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| committer | nfenwick <nfenwick@pglaf.org> | 2025-03-04 22:21:03 -0800 |
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diff --git a/75530-h/75530-h.htm b/75530-h/75530-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8d909f6 --- /dev/null +++ b/75530-h/75530-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9613 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + A high wind in Jamaica | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + + h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +p { + margin-top: .51em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .49em; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;} +hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;} +@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} } + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} +h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} + +table { + margin-left: -0.2em; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: small; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; + font-weight: normal; + font-variant: normal; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.indentright2 {padding-right: 5em;} +.indentright {padding-right: 2em;} + +.blockquot { + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +.blockquot2 { + margin-left: 5%; + margin-right: 5%; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .blockquot { + margin-left: 7.5%; + margin-right: 7.5%; +} + +.center {text-align: center;} + +.right {text-align: right;} + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +.allsmcap {font-variant: small-caps; text-transform: lowercase;} + +.ph1 {text-align: center; font-size: large; font-weight: bold;} +.ph2 {text-align: center; font-size: xx-large; font-weight: bold;} + +div.titlepage {text-align: center; page-break-before: always; page-break-after: always;} +div.titlepage p {text-align: center; font-weight: bold; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: 2em;} + +.xxxlarge {font-size: 250%;} +.xxlarge {font-size: 200%;} +.xlarge {font-size: 150%;} +.large {font-size: 125%;} + +.x-ebookmaker .hide {display: none; visibility: hidden;} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +.footnote {margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + +.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 75%; text-align: right;} + +.fnanchor { + vertical-align: super; + font-size: .8em; + text-decoration: + none; +} + +p.drop-cap { + text-indent: -0.35em; +} +p.drop-cap2 { + text-indent: -0.75em; +} +p.drop-cap:first-letter, p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + float: left; + margin: 0em 0.15em 0em 0em; + font-size: 250%; + line-height:0.85em; + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2 { + text-indent: 0em; +} +.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter, .x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap2:first-letter +{ + float: none; + margin: 0; + font-size: 100%; +} + +.poetry-container {display: flex; justify-content: center;} +.poetry-container {text-align: center;} +.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;} +.poetry .verse {text-indent: -2.5em; padding-left: 3em;} + +.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; + color: black; + font-size:smaller; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; + padding: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-family:sans-serif, serif; } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75530 ***</div> + +<div class="figcenter hide"><img src="images/coversmall.jpg" width="450" alt=""></div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<h1>A HIGH WIND<br> +IN<br> +JAMAICA</h1> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="ph1">By Richard Hughes</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Short Stories</i></p> + +<p class="center">A MOMENT OF TIME</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Poems</i></p> + +<p class="center">CONFESSIO JUVENIS</p> + +<p class="center"><i>Drama</i></p> + +<p class="center">PLAYS: <span class="allsmcap">IN ONE VOL.</span><br> +<i>Also available separately</i></p> + +<p class="center">Chatto & Windus</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="xxlarge">*</span></p> + +<p class="center"><i>Mr. Hughes has also edited a<br> +selection of Skelton’s Poems,<br> +published by Wm. Heinemann<br> +Ltd.</i></p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlepage.jpg" alt="title page"></div> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="titlepage"> +<p><span class="xxlarge">A HIGH WIND<br> +IN JAMAICA</span></p> + +<p><span class="xlarge">RICHARD HUGHES</span></p> + +<p>1929<br> + +<span class="large">CHATTO & WINDUS</span><br> +LONDON</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="center">Printed in Great Britain by T. and A. Constable Ltd.<br> +at the University Press, Edinburgh<br> +<br> +Third Impression<br> +<br> +All rights reserved<br> +<br> +Copyright in the U.S.A. by Richard Hughes, 1929,<br> +under the title of ‘The Innocent Voyage.’</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span> + +<p class="ph2">A HIGH WIND<br> +IN JAMAICA</p> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 1</i></h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap">ONE of the fruits of Emancipation in the +West Indian islands is the number of the +ruins, either attached to the houses that +remain or within a stone’s throw of them: ruined +slaves’ quarters, ruined sugar-grinding houses, +ruined boiling houses; often ruined mansions that +were too expensive to maintain. Earthquake, fire, +rain, and deadlier vegetation, did their work quickly.</p> + +<p>One scene is very clear in my mind, in Jamaica. +There was a vast stone-built house called Derby +Hill (where the Parkers lived). It had been the +centre of a very prosperous plantation. With +Emancipation, like many others, that went <i>bung</i>. +The sugar buildings fell down. Bush smothered +the cane and guinea-grass. The field negroes left +their cottages in a body, to be somewhere less disturbed +by even the possibility of work. Then the +house negroes’ quarters burned down, and the three +remaining faithful servants occupied the mansion. +The two heiresses of all this, the Miss Parkers, +grew old; and were by education incapable. And<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span> +the scene is this: coming to Derby Hill on some +business or other, and wading waist-deep in bushes +up to the front door, now lashed permanently open +by a rank plant. The jalousies of the house had +been all torn down, and then supplanted as darkeners, +by powerful vines: and out of this crumbling +half-vegetable gloom an old negress peered, +wrapped in filthy brocade. The two old Miss +Parkers lived in bed, for the negroes had taken +away all their clothes: they were nearly starved. +Drinking water was brought in two cracked Worcester +cups and three coconut shells on a silver +salver. Presently one of the heiresses persuaded +her tyrants to lend her an old print dress, and +came and pottered about in the mess half-heartedly: +tried to wipe the old blood and feathers of +slaughtered chickens from a gilt and marble table: +tried to talk sensibly: tried to wind an ormolu +clock: and then gave it up and mooned away back +to bed. Not long after this, I believe, they were +both starved altogether to death. Or, if that were +hardly possible in so prolific a country, perhaps +given ground glass—rumour varied. At any +rate, they died.</p> + +<p>That is the sort of scene which makes a deep +impression on the mind; far deeper than the +ordinary, less romantic, everyday thing which +shows the real state of an island in the statistical<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span> +sense. Of course, even in the transition period +one only found melodrama like this in rare patches. +More truly typical was Ferndale, for instance, an +estate about fifteen miles away from Derby Hill. +Only the overseer’s house here remained: the +Big House had altogether collapsed and been +smothered over. It consisted of a ground floor of +stone, given over to goats and the children, and a +first floor of wood, the inhabited part, reached +from outside by a double flight of wooden steps. +When the earthquakes came the upper part only +slid about a little, and could be jacked back into +position with big levers. The roof was of +shingles: after very dry weather it leaked like a +sieve, and the first few days of the rainy season +would be spent in a perpetual general-post of beds +and other furniture to escape the drips, until the +wood swelled.</p> + +<p>The people who lived there at the time I have in +mind were the Bas-Thorntons: not natives of the +Island, ‘Creoles,’ but a family from England. +Mr. Bas-Thornton had a business of some kind in +St. Anne’s, and used to ride there every day on a +mule. He had such long legs that his stunted +mount made him look rather ridiculous: and being +quite as temperamental as a mule himself, a quarrel +between the two was generally worth watching.</p> + +<p>Close to the dwelling were the ruined grinding<span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span> +and boiling houses. These two are never quite +cheek by jowl: the grinding-house is set on higher +ground, with a water-wheel to turn the immense +iron vertical rollers. From these the cane juice +runs down a wedge-shaped trough to the boiling +house, where a negro stands and rinses a little +lime-wash into it with a grass brush to make it +granulate. Then it is emptied into big copper +vats, over furnaces burning faggots and ‘trash,’ or +squeezed-out cane. There a few negroes stand, +skimming the poppling vats with long-handled +copper ladles, while their friends sit round, eating +sugar or chewing trash, in a mist of hot vapour. +What they skim off oozes across the floor with an +admixture of a good deal of filth—insects, even +rats, and whatever sticks to negroes’ feet—into +another basin, thence to be distilled into rum.</p> + +<p>This, at any rate, is how it used to be done. I +know nothing of modern methods—or if there are +any, never having visited the island since 1860, +which is a long time ago now.</p> + +<p>But long before that year all this was over at +Ferndale: the big copper vats were overturned, +and up in the grinding-house the three great rollers +lay about loose. No water reached it: the stream +had gone about its own business elsewhere. The +Bas-Thornton children used to crawl into the cut-well +through the vent, among dead leaves and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span> +wreck of the wheel. There, one day, they found +a wild-cat’s nest, with the mother away. The +kittens were tiny, and Emily tried to carry them +home in her pinafore; but they bit and scratched +so fiercely, right through her thin frock, that she +was very glad—except for pride—that they all +escaped but one. This one, Tom, grew up: +though he was never really tamed. Later he begat +several litters on an old tame cat they had, Kitty +Cranbrook; and the only survivor of this progeny, +Tabby, became rather a famous cat in his +way. (But Tom soon took to the jungle altogether.) +Tabby was faithful, and a good swimmer, +which he would do for pleasure, sculling around +the bathing-pool behind the children, giving an +occasional yowl of excitement. Also, he had +mortal sport with snakes: would wait for a rattler +or a black-snake like a mere mouse: drop on it +from a tree or somewhere, and fight it to death. +Once he got bitten, and they all wept bitterly, expecting +to see a spectacular death-agony; but he +just went off into the bush and probably ate something, +for he came back in a few days quite cock-a-hoop +and as ready to eat snakes as ever.</p> + +<p>Red-headed John’s room was full of rats: he +used to catch them in big gins, and then let them +go for Tabby to despatch. Once the cat was so +impatient he seized trap and all and caterwauled off<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span> +into the night banging it on the stones and sending +up showers of sparks. Again he returned in a few +days, very sleek and pleased: but John never saw +his trap again. Another plague of his were the +bats, which also infested his room in hundreds. +Mr. Bas-Thornton could crack a stockwhip, and +used to kill a bat on the wing with it most neatly. +But the din this made in that little box of a room +at midnight was infernal: earsplitting cracks, and +the air already full of the tiny penetrating squeaks +of the vermin.</p> + +<p>It was a kind of paradise for English children to +come to, whatever it might be for their parents: +especially at that time, when no one lived in at all +a wild way at home. Here one had to be a little +ahead of the times: or decadent, whichever you +like to call it. The difference between boys and +girls, for instance, had to be left to look after itself. +Long hair would have made the evening search +for grass-ticks and nits interminable: Emily and +Rachel had their hair cut short, and were allowed +to do everything the boys did—to climb trees, +swim, and trap animals and birds: they even had +two pockets in their frocks.</p> + +<p>It was round the bathing-pool their life centred, +more than the house. Every year, when the rains +were over, a dam was built across the stream, so +that all through the dry season there was quite<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span> +a large pool to swim in. There were trees all +round: enormous fluffed cotton-trees, with coffee +trees between their paws, and log-wood, and gorgeous +red and green peppers: amongst them, the +pool was almost completely shaded. Emily and +John set tree-springes in them—Lame-foot Sam +taught them how. Cut a bendy stick, and tie a +string to one end. Then sharpen the other, so +that it can impale a fruit as bait. Just at the base +of this point flatten it a little, and bore a hole +through the flat part. Cut a little peg that will +just stick in the mouth of this hole. Then make a +loop in the end of the string: bend the stick, as in +stringing a bow, till the loop will thread through +the little hole, and jam it with the peg, along which +the loop should lie spread. Bait the point, and +hang it in a tree among the twigs: the bird alights +on the peg to peck the fruit, the peg falls out, the +loop whips tight round its ankles: then away up +out of the water like pink predatory monkeys, and +decide by ‘Eena, deena, dina, do,’ or some such +rigmarole, whether to twist its neck or let it go free—thus +the excitement and suspense, both for child +and bird, can be prolonged beyond the moment +of capture.</p> + +<p>It was only natural that Emily should have great +ideas of improving the negroes. They were, of +course, Christians, so there was nothing to be done<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span> +about their morals: nor were they in need of soup, +or knitted things; but they were sadly ignorant. +After a good deal of negotiation they consented in +the end to let her teach Little Jim to read: but she +had no success. Also she had a passion for catching +house-lizards without their dropping their tails +off, which they do when frightened: it needed +endless patience to get them whole and unalarmed +into a match-box. Catching green grass-lizards +was also very delicate. She would sit and whistle, +like Orpheus, till they came out of their crannies +and showed their emotion by puffing out their +pink throats: then, very gently, she would lasso +them with a long blade of grass. Her room was +full of these and other pets, some alive, others +probably dead. She also had tame fairies; and a +familiar, or oracle, the White Mouse with an +Elastic Tail, who was always ready to settle any +point in question, and whose rule was a rule of +iron—especially over Rachel, Edward, and Laura, +the little ones (or Liddlies, as they came to be +known in the family). To Emily, his interpreter, +he allowed, of course, certain privileges: and with +John, who was older than Emily, he quite wisely +did not interfere.</p> + +<p><i>He</i> was omnipresent: the fairies were more +localised, living in a small hole in the hill guarded +by two dagger-plants.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>The best fun at the bathing-pool was had with a +big forked log. John would sit astride the main +stem, and the others pushed him about by the two +prongs. The little ones, of course, only splashed +about the shallow end: but John and Emily dived. +John, that is to say, dived properly, head-foremost: +Emily only jumped in feet first, stiff as a +rod; but she, on the other hand, would go off +higher boughs than he would. Once, when she +was eight, Mrs. Thornton had thought she was +too big to bathe naked any more. The only +bathing-dress she could rig was an old cotton +night-gown. Emily jumped in as usual: first the +balloons of air tipped her upside down, and then +the wet cotton wrapped itself round her head and +arms and nearly drowned her. After that, decency +was let go hang again: it is hardly worth being +drowned for—at least, it does not at first sight +appear to be.</p> + +<p>But once a negro really was drowned in the pool. +He had gorged himself full of stolen mangoes: +and feeling guilty, thought he might as well also +cool himself in the forbidden pond, and make +one repentance cover two crimes. He could not +swim, and had only a child (Little Jim) with him. +The cold water and the surfeit brought on an +apoplexy: Jim poked at him with a piece of stick +a little, and then ran away in a fright. Whether<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span> +the man died of the apoplexy or the drowning was +a point for an inquest; and the doctor, after staying +at Ferndale for a week, decided it was from +drowning, but that he was full of green mangoes +right up to his mouth. The great advantage of +this was that no negro would bathe there again, +for fear the dead man’s ‘duppy,’ or ghost, should +catch him. So if any black even came near while +they were bathing, John and Emily would pretend +the duppy had grabbed at them, and off he would +go, terribly upset. Only one of the negroes at +Ferndale had ever actually seen a duppy: but that +was quite enough. They cannot be mistaken for +living people, because their heads are turned backwards +on their shoulders, and they carry a chain: +moreover one must never call them duppies to +their faces, as it gives them power. This poor +man forgot, and called out ‘<i>Duppy!</i>’ when he +saw it. He got terrible rheumatics.</p> + +<p>Lame-foot Sam told most stories. He used to sit +all day on the stone barbecues where the pimento +was dried, digging maggots out of his toes. This +seemed at first very horrid to the children, but he +seemed quite contented: and when jiggers got +under their own skins, and laid their little bags of +eggs there, it was not absolutely unpleasant. John +used to get quite a sort of thrill from rubbing the +place. Sam told them the Anansi stories: Anansi<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span> +and the Tiger, and how Anansi looked after the +Crocodile’s nursery, and so on. Also he had a +little poem which impressed them very much:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> +<div class="poetry"> +<div class="verse">Quacko Sam</div> +<div class="verse">Him bery fine man:</div> +<div class="verse">Him dance all de dances dat de darkies can:</div> +<div class="verse">Him dance de schottische, him dance de Cod Reel:</div> +<div class="verse">Him dance ebery kind of dance till him foot-bottom peel.</div> +</div></div> + +<p>Perhaps that was how old Sam’s own affliction +first came about: he was very sociable. He was +said to have a great many children.</p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>The stream which fed the bathing-hole ran into +it down a gully through the bush which offered an +enticing vista for exploring: but somehow the +children did not often go up it very far. Every +stone had to be overturned in the hope of finding +cray-fish: or if not, John had to take a sporting +gun, which he bulleted with spoonfuls of water to +shoot humming-birds on the wing, too tiny frail +quarry for any solider projectile. For, only a few +yards up, there was a Frangipani tree: a mass of +brilliant blossom and no leaves, which was almost +hidden in a cloud of humming-birds so vivid as +much to outshine the flowers. Writers have often<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span> +lost their way trying to explain how brilliant a +jewel the humming-bird is: it cannot be done.</p> + +<p>They build their wee woollen nests on the tops +of twigs, where no snake can reach them. They +are devoted to their eggs, and will not move +though you touch them. But they are so delicate +the children never did that: they held their breath +and stared and stared—and were out-stared.</p> + +<p>Somehow the celestial vividness of this barrier +generally arrested them: it was seldom they explored +further: only once, I think, on a day when +Emily was feeling peculiarly irritated.</p> + +<p>It was her own tenth birthday. They had +frittered away all the morning in the glass-like +gloom of the bathing-hole. Now John sat naked +on the bank making a wicker trap. In the shallows +the small ones rolled and chuckled. Emily, for +coolness, sat up to her chin in water, and hundreds +of infant fish were tickling with their inquisitive +mouths every inch of her body, a sort of expressionless +light kissing.</p> + +<p>Anyhow she had lately come to hate being +touched—but this was abominable. At last, when +she could stand it no longer, she clambered out +and dressed. Rachel and Laura were too small +for a long walk: and the last thing, she felt, that +she wanted was to have one of the boys with her: +so she stole quietly past John’s back, scowling<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span> +balefully at him for no particular reason. Soon +she was out of sight among the bushes.</p> + +<p>She pushed on rather fast, not taking much +notice of things, up the river bed for about three +miles. She had never been so far afield before. +Then her attention was caught by a clearing leading +down to the water: and here was the source +of the river. She caught her breath delightedly: +it bubbled up clear and cold, through three distinct +springs, under a clump of bamboos, just as a +river should: the greatest possible find, and a +private discovery of her own. She gave instantaneous +inward thanks to God for thinking of such +a perfect birthday treat, especially as things had +seemed to be going all wrong: and then began to +ferret in the limestone sources with the whole +length of her arm, among the ferns and cresses.</p> + +<p>Hearing a splash, she looked round. Some +half-dozen strange negro children had come down +the clearing to fetch water and were staring at her +in astonishment. Emily stared back. In sudden +terror they flung down their calabashes and galloped +away up the clearing like hares. Immediately, +but with dignity, Emily followed them. +The clearing narrowed to a path, and the path led +in a very short time to a village.</p> + +<p>It was all ragged and unkempt, and shrill with +voices. There were small one-storey wattle huts<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span> +dotted about, completely overhung by the most +enormous trees. There was no sort of order: +they appeared anywhere: there were no railings, +and only one or two of the most terribly starved, +mangy cattle to keep in or out. In the middle of +all was an indeterminate quagmire or muddy pond, +where a group of half-naked negroes, and totally +naked black children, and a few brown ones, were +splashing with geese and ducks.</p> + +<p>Emily stared: they stared back. She made a +movement towards them: they separated at once +into the various huts, and watched her from there. +Encouraged by the comfortable feeling of inspiring +fright she advanced, and at last found an old +creature who would talk: Dis Liberty Hill, dis +Black Man’s Town, Old-time niggers, dey go fer +run from de bushas (overseers), go fer live here. +De piccaninnies, dey never see buckras (whites).... +And so on. It was a refuge, built by runaway +slaves, and still inhabited.</p> + +<p>And then, that her cup of happiness might be +full, some of the bolder children crept out and respectfully +offered her flowers—really to get a better +look at her pallid face. Her heart bubbled up in +her, she swelled with glory: and taking leave with +the greatest condescension she trod all the long +way home on veritable air, back to her beloved +family, back to a birthday cake wreathed with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> +stephanotis, lit with ten candles, and in which it so +happened that the sixpenny piece was invariably +found in the birthday-person’s slice.</p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>This was, fairly typically, the life of an English +family in Jamaica. Mostly these only stayed a few +years. The Creoles—families who had been in +the West Indies for more than one generation—gradually +evolved something a little more distinctive. +They lost some of the traditional mental +mechanism of Europe, and the outlines of a new +one began to appear.</p> + +<p>There was one such family the Bas-Thorntons +were acquainted with, who had a ramshackle +estate to the eastward. They invited John and +Emily to spend a couple of days with them, +but Mrs. Thornton was in two minds about +letting them go, lest they should learn bad ways. +The children there were a wildish lot, and, in the +morning at least, would often run about barefoot +like negroes, which is a very important point in a +place like Jamaica where the whites have to keep +up appearances. They had a governess whose +blood was possibly not pure, and who used to beat +the children ferociously with a hair-brush. However, +the climate at the Fernandez’s place was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span> +healthy, and also Mrs. Thornton thought it good +for them to have some intercourse with other children +outside their own family, however undesirable: +and she let them go.</p> + +<p>It was the afternoon after that birthday, and a +long buggy-ride. Both fat John and thin Emily +were speechless and solemn with excitement: it +was the first visit they had ever paid. Hour after +hour the buggy laboured over the uneven road. +At last the lane to Exeter, the Fernandez’s place, +was reached. It was evening, the sun about to do +his rapid tropical setting. He was unusually large +and red, as if he threatened something peculiar. +The lane, or drive, was gorgeous: for the first few +hundred yards it was entirely hedged with ‘seaside +grapes,’ clusters of fruit half-way between a gooseberry +and a golden pippin, with here and there the +red berries of coffee trees newly planted among the +burnt stumps in a clearing, but already neglected. +Then a massive stone gateway in a sort of Colonial-Gothic +style. This had to be circumvented: no +one had taken the trouble to heave open the heavy +gates for years. There was no fence, nor ever had +been, so the track simply passed it by.</p> + +<p>And beyond the gates an avenue of magnificent +cabbage-palms. No tree, not oldest beech nor +chestnut, is more spectacular in an avenue: rising +a sheer hundred feet with no break in the line<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span> +before the actual crown of plumes; and palm upon +palm, palm upon palm, like a heavenly double +row of pillars, leading on interminably, till even +the huge house was dwarfed into a sort of ultimate +mouse-trap.</p> + +<p>As they journeyed on between these palms the +sun went suddenly down, darkness flooded up +round them out of the ground, retorted to almost +immediately by the moon. Presently, shimmering +like a ghost, an old blind white donkey stood in +their way. Curses did not move him: the driver +had to climb down and push him aside. The air +was full of the usual tropic din: mosquitoes humming, +cicalas trilling, bull-frogs twanging like +guitars. That din goes on all night and all day +almost: is more insistent, more memorable than +the heat itself, even, or the number of things that +bite. In the valley beneath the fire-flies came to +life: as if at a signal passed along, wave after wave +after wave of light swept down the gorge. From +a neighbouring hill the cockatoos began their +serenade, an orchestration of drunk men laughing +against iron girders tossed at each other and sawn +up with rusty hack-saws: the most awful noise. +But Emily and John, so far as they noticed it at all, +found it vaguely exhilarating. Through it could +presently be distinguished another sound: a negro +praying. They soon came near him: where an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span> +orange tree loaded with golden fruit gleamed dark +and bright in the moonlight, veiled in the pinpoint +scintillation of a thousand fire-flies sat the old +black saint among the branches, talking loudly, +drunkenly, and confidentially with God.</p> + +<p>Almost unexpectedly they came on the house, +and were whisked straight off to bed. Emily +omitted to wash, since there seemed such a hurry, +but made up for it by spending an unusually long +time over her prayers. She pressed her eyeballs +devoutly with her fingers to make sparks appear, +in spite of the slightly sick feeling it always induced: +and then, already sound asleep, clambered, +I suppose, into bed.</p> + +<p>The next day the sun rose as he had set: large, +round, and red. It was blindingly hot, foreboding. +Emily, who woke early in a strange bed, stood at +the window watching the negroes release the hens +from the chicken-houses, where they were shut up +at night for fear of John-crows. As each bird +hopped sleepily out, the black passed his hand over +its stomach to see if it meditated an egg that day: +if so, it was confined again, or it would have gone +off and laid in the bush. It was already as hot as +an oven. Another black, with eschatological yells +and tail-twistings and lassoings, was confining a +cow in a kind of pillory, that it might have no +opportunity of sitting down while being milked.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span> +The poor brute’s hooves were aching with the +heat, its miserable tea-cup of milk fevered in its +udder. Even as she stood at the shady window +Emily felt as sweaty as if she had been running. +The ground was fissured with drought.</p> + +<p>Margaret Fernandez, whose room Emily was +sharing, slipped out of bed silently and stood beside +her, wrinkling the short nose in her pallid face.</p> + +<p>‘Good morning,’ said Emily politely.</p> + +<p>‘Smells like an earthquake,’ said Margaret, and +dressed. Emily remembered the awful story about +the governess and the hair-brush: certainly Margaret +did not use one for its ordinary purpose, +though she had long hair: so it must be true.</p> + +<p>Margaret was ready long before Emily, and +banged out of the room. Emily followed later, +neat and nervous, to find no one. The house was +empty. Presently she spied John under a tree, +talking to a negro boy. By his off-hand manner +Emily guessed he was telling <i>disproportionate</i> stories +(not <i>lies</i>) about the importance of Ferndale compared +with Exeter. She did not call him, because +the house was silent and it was not her place, as +guest, to alter anything: so she went out to him. +Together they circumnavigated: they found a +stable-yard, and negroes preparing ponies, and the +Fernandez children, barefoot even as Rumour had +whispered. Emily caught her breath, shocked.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> +Even at that moment a chicken, scuttling across +the yard, trod on a scorpion and tumbled over +stark dead as if shot. But it was not so much the +danger which upset Emily as the unconventionality.</p> + +<p>‘Come on,’ said Margaret: ‘it’s much too hot +to stay about here. We’ll go down to Exeter +Rocks.’</p> + +<p>The cavalcade mounted—Emily very conscious +of her boots, buttoned respectably half-way up +her calf. Somebody had food, and calabashes of +water. The ponies evidently knew the way. +The sun was still red and large: the sky above +cloudless, and like blue glaze poured over baking +clay: but close over the ground a dirty grey haze +hovered. As they followed the lane towards the +sea they came to a place where, yesterday, a fair-sized +spring had bubbled up by the roadside. +Now it was dry. But even as they passed a kind +of gout of water gushed forth: and then it was +dry again, although gurgling inwardly to itself. +But the cavalcade were hot, far too hot to speak to +one another: they sat their ponies as loosely as +possible, longing for the sea.</p> + +<p>The morning advanced. The heated air grew +quite easily hotter, as if from some reserve of +enormous blaze on which it could draw at will. +Bullocks only shifted their stinging feet when they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span> +could bear the soil no longer: even the insects +were too languorous to pipe, the basking lizards +hid themselves and panted. It was so still you +could have heard the least buzz a mile off. Not +a naked fish would willingly move his tail. The +ponies advanced because they must. The children +ceased even to muse.</p> + +<p>They all very nearly jumped out of their skins; +for close at hand a crane had trumpeted once desperately. +Then the broken silence closed down +as flawless as before. They perspired twice as +violently with the stimulus. Their pace grew +slower and slower. It was no faster than a procession +of snails that at last they reached the sea.</p> + +<p>Exeter Rocks is a famous place. A bay of the +sea, almost a perfect semicircle, guarded by the +reef: shelving white sands to span the few feet +from the water to the under-cut turf: and then, +almost at the mid point, a jutting-out shelf of rocks +right into deep water—fathoms deep. And a +narrow fissure in the rocks, leading the water into +a small pool, or miniature lagoon, right inside +their bastion. There it was, safe from sharks or +drowning, that the Fernandez children meant to +soak themselves all day, like turtles in a crawl. +The water of the bay was as smooth and immovable +as basalt, yet clear as the finest gin: albeit +the swell muttered a mile away on the reef. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span> +water within the pool itself could not reasonably +be smoother. No sea-breeze thought of stirring. +No bird trespassed on the inert air.</p> + +<p>For a while they had not energy to get into the +water, but lay on their faces, looking down, down, +down, at the sea-fans and sea-feathers, the scarlet-plumed +barnacles and corals, the black and yellow +schoolmistress-fish, the rainbow-fish—all that forest +of ideal Christmas trees which is a tropical sea-bottom. +Then they stood up, giddy and seeing +black, and in a trice were floating suspended in +water like drowned ones, only their noses above +the surface, under the shadow of a rocky ledge.</p> + +<p>An hour or so after noon they clustered together, +puffy from the warm water, in the insufficient +shade of a Panama fern: ate such of the +food they had brought as they had appetite for; +and drank all the water, wishing for more. Then +a very odd thing happened: for even as they sat +there they heard the most peculiar sound: a +strange, rushing sound that passed overhead like a +gale of wind—but not a breath of breeze stirred, +that was the odd thing: followed by a sharp +hissing and hurtling, like a flight of rockets, or +gigantic swans—very distant rocs, perhaps—on the +wing. They all looked up: but there was nothing +at all. The sky was empty and lucid. Long +before they were back in the water again all was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span> +still. Except that after a while John noticed a sort +of tapping, as if some one were gently knocking +the outside of a bath you were in. But the bath +they were in had no outside, it was solid world. +It was funny.</p> + +<p>By sunset they were so weak from long immersion +they could barely stand up, and as salted as +bacon: but, with some common impulse, just before +the sun went down they all left the rocks and +went and stood by their clothes, where the ponies +were tethered, under some palms. As he sank +the sun grew even larger: and instead of red was +now a sodden purple. Down he went, behind the +western horn of the bay, which blackened till its +water-line disappeared and substance and reflection +seemed one sharp symmetrical pattern.</p> + +<p>Not a breath of breeze even yet ruffled the water: +yet momentarily it trembled of its own accord, +shattering the reflections: then was glassy again. +On that the children held their breath, waiting for +it to happen.</p> + +<p>A school of fish, terrified by some purely sub-marine +event, thrust their heads right out of the +water, squattering across the bay in an arrowy +rush, dashing up sparkling ripples with the tiny +heave of their shoulders: yet after each disturbance +all was soon like hardest, dark, thick, glass.</p> + +<p>Once things vibrated slightly, like a chair in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span> +concert-room: and again there was that mysterious +winging, though there was nothing visible +beneath the swollen iridescent stars.</p> + +<p>Then it came. The water of the bay began to +ebb away, as if some one had pulled up the plug: a +foot or so of sand and coral gleamed for a moment +new to the air: then back the sea rushed in miniature +rollers which splashed right up to the feet of +the palms. Mouthfuls of turf were torn away: +and on the far side of the bay a small piece of cliff +tumbled into the water: sand and twigs showered +down, dew fell from the trees like diamonds: birds +and beasts, their tongues at last loosed, screamed +and bellowed: the ponies, though quite unalarmed, +lifted up their heads and yelled.</p> + +<p>That was all: a few moments. Then silence, +with a rapid countermarch, recovered all his rebellious +kingdom. Stillness again. The trees +moved as little as the pillars of a ruin, each leaf laid +sleekly in place. The bubbling foam subsided: +the reflections of the stars came out among it as if +from clouds. Silent, still, dark, placid, as if there +could never have been a disturbance. The naked +children too continued to stand motionless beside +the quiet ponies, dew on their hair and eyelashes, +shine on their infantile round paunches.</p> + +<p>But as for Emily, it was too much. The earthquake +went completely to her head. She began<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> +to dance, hopping laboriously from one foot on to +another. John caught the infection. He turned +head over heels on the damp sand, over and over +in an elliptical course, till before he knew it he was +in the water, and so giddy as hardly to be able to +tell up from down.</p> + +<p>At that, Emily knew what it was she wanted to +do. She scrambled on to a pony and galloped +him up and down the beach, trying to bark like a +dog. The Fernandez children stared, solemn but +not disapproving. John, shaping a course for +Cuba, was swimming as if sharks were paring his +toe-nails. Emily rode her pony into the sea, and +beat and beat him till he swam: and so she followed +John towards the reef, yapping herself +hoarse.</p> + +<p>It must have been fully a hundred yards before +they were spent. Then they turned for the shore, +John holding on to Emily’s leg, puffing and gasping, +both a little overdone, their emotion run +down. Presently John gasped:</p> + +<p>‘You shouldn’t ride on your bare skin, you’ll +catch ringworm.’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t care if I do,’ said Emily.</p> + +<p>‘You would if you did,’ said John.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t care!’ chanted Emily.</p> + +<p>It seemed a long way to the shore. When they +reached it the others had dressed and were preparing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span> +to start. Soon the whole party were on their +way home in the dark. Presently Margaret said:</p> + +<p>‘So that’s that.’</p> + +<p>No one answered.</p> + +<p>‘I could smell it was an earthquake coming +when I got up. Didn’t I say so, Emily?’</p> + +<p>‘You and your smells!’ said Jimmie Fernandez. +‘You’re always smelling things!’</p> + +<p>‘She’s awfully good at smells,’ said the youngest, +Harry, proudly, to John. ‘She can sort out +people’s dirty clothes for the wash by smell: who +they belong to.’</p> + +<p>‘She can’t really,’ said Jimmie: ‘she fakes it. +As if every one smelt different!’</p> + +<p>‘I can!’</p> + +<p>‘Dogs can, anyway,’ said John.</p> + +<p>Emily said nothing. Of course people smelt +different: it didn’t need arguing. She could +always tell her own towel from John’s, for instance: +or even knew if one of the others had used +it. But it just showed what sort of people Creoles +were, to <i>talk</i> about Smell, in that open way.</p> + +<p>‘Well, anyhow I said there was going to be an +earthquake and there was one,’ said Margaret.</p> + +<p>That was what Emily was waiting for! So it +really had been an Earthquake (she had not liked +to ask, it seemed so ignorant: but now Margaret +had said in so many words that it was one).</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>If ever she went back to England, she could +now say to people, ‘<i>I have been in an Earthquake</i>.’</p> + +<p>With that certainty, her soused excitement began +to revive. For there was nothing, no adventure +from the hands of God or Man, to equal it. +Realise that if she had suddenly found she could +fly it would not have seemed more miraculous to +her. Heaven had played its last, most terrible +card; and small Emily had survived, where even +grown men (such as Korah, Dathan, and Abiram) +had succumbed.</p> + +<p>Life seemed suddenly a little empty: for never +again could there happen to her anything so +dangerous, so sublime.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Margaret and Jimmie were still +arguing:</p> + +<p>‘Well, there’s one thing, there’ll be plenty of +eggs to-morrow,’ said Jimmie. ‘There’s nothing +like an earthquake for making them lay.’</p> + +<p>How funny Creoles were! They didn’t seem +to realise the difference it made to a person’s whole +after-life to have been in an Earthquake.</p> + +<p>When they got home, Martha, the black housemaid, +had hard things to say about the sublime +cataclysm. She had dusted the drawing-room +china only the day before: and now everything +was covered again in a fine penetrating film of +dust.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p> + +<h3>iv</h3> + +<p>The next morning, Sunday, they went home. +Emily was still so saturated in earthquake as to be +dumb. She ate earthquake and slept earthquake: +her fingers and legs were earthquake. With John +it was ponies. The earthquake had been fun: but +it was the ponies that mattered. But at present it +did not worry Emily that she was alone in her +sense of proportion. She was too completely +possessed to be able to see anything, or realise that +any one else pretended to even a self-delusive +fiction of existence.</p> + +<p>Their mother met them at the door. She +bubbled questions: John chattered ponies, but +Emily was still tongue-tied. She was, in her mind, +like a child who has eaten too much even to be +able to be sick.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thornton got a little worried about her at +times. This sort of life was very peaceful, and +might be excellent for nervy children like John: +but a child like Emily, thought Mrs. Thornton, +who is far from nervy, really needs some sort of +stimulus and excitement, or there is a danger of her +mind going to sleep altogether for ever. This life +was too vegetable. Consequently Mrs. Thornton +always spoke to Emily in her brightest manner, as +if everything was of the greatest possible interest.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> +She had hoped, too, the visit to Exeter might liven +her up: but she had come back as silent and expressionless +as ever. It had evidently made no +impression on her at all.</p> + +<p>John marshalled the small ones in the cellar, and +round and round they marched, wooden swords +at the slope, singing ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers.’ +Emily did not join them. What did it now matter, +that earlier woe, that being a girl she could never +when grown up become a real soldier with a real +sword? She had been in an Earthquake.</p> + +<p>Nor did the others keep it up very long. (Sometimes +they would go on for three or four hours.) +For, whatever it might have done for Emily’s soul, +the earthquake had done little to clear the air. It +was as hot as ever. In the animal world there +seemed some strange commotion, as if they had +wind of something. The usual lizards and mosquitoes +were still absent: but in their place the +earth’s most horrid progeny, creatures of darkness, +sought the open: land-crabs wandered about aimlessly, +angrily twiddling their claws: and the +ground seemed almost alive with red ants and +cockroaches. Up on the roof the pigeons were +gathered, talking to each other fearfully.</p> + +<p>The cellar (or rather, ground floor), where they +were playing, had no communication with the +wooden structure above, but had an opening of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span> +its own under the twin flight of steps leading to +the front door; and there the children presently +gathered in the shadow. Out in the compound +lay one of Mr. Thornton’s best handkerchiefs. He +must have dropped it that morning. But none of +them felt the energy to go and retrieve it, out into +the sun. Then, as they stood there, they saw +Lame-foot Sam come limping across the yard. +Seeing the prize, he was about to carry it off. +Suddenly he remembered it was Sunday. He +dropped it like a hot brick, and began to cover it +with sand, exactly where he had found it.</p> + +<p>‘Please God, I thieve you to-morrow,’ he explained +hopefully. ‘Please God, you still there?’</p> + +<p>A low mutter of thunder seemed to offer grudging +assent.</p> + +<p>‘Thank you, Lord,’ said Sam, bowing to a low +bank of cloud. He hobbled off: but then, not too +sure perhaps that Heaven would keep Its promise, +changed his mind: snatched up the handkerchief +and made off for his cottage. The thunder muttered +louder and more angrily: but Sam ignored +the warning.</p> + +<p>It was the custom that, whenever Mr. Thornton +had been to St. Anne’s, John and Emily should +run out to meet him, and ride back with him, one +perched on each of his stirrups.</p> + +<p>That Sunday evening they ran out as soon as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span> +they saw him coming, in spite of the thunderstorm +that by now was clattering over their very heads—and +not only over their heads either, for in the +Tropics a thunderstorm is not a remote affair up in +the sky, as it is in England, but is all round you: +lightning plays ducks and drakes across the water, +bounds from tree to tree, bounces about the +ground, while the thunder seems to proceed from +violent explosions in your own very core.</p> + +<p>‘Go back! Go back, you damned little fools!’ +he yelled furiously: ‘Get into the house!’</p> + +<p>They stopped, aghast: and began to realise that +after all it was a storm of more than ordinary violence. +They discovered that they were drenched +to the skin—must have been the moment they left +the house. The lightning kept up a continuous +blaze: it was playing about their father’s very +stirrup-irons; and all of a sudden they realised that +he was afraid. They fled to the house, shocked to +the heart: and he was in the house almost as soon +as they were. Mrs. Thornton rushed out:</p> + +<p>‘My dear, I’m so glad....’</p> + +<p>‘I’ve never seen such a storm! Why on earth +did you let the children come out?’</p> + +<p>‘I never dreamt they would be so silly! And +all the time I was thinking—but thank Heaven +you’re back!’</p> + +<p>‘I think the worst is over now.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>Perhaps it was; but all through supper the +lightning shone almost without flickering. And +John and Emily could hardly eat: the memory of +that momentary look on their father’s face haunted +them.</p> + +<p>It was an unpleasant meal altogether. Mrs. +Thornton had prepared for her husband his ‘favourite +dish’: than which no action could more +annoy a man of whim. In the middle of it all in +burst Sam, ceremony dropped: he flung the handkerchief +angrily on the table and stumped out.</p> + +<p>‘What on earth ...’ began Mr. Thornton.</p> + +<p>But John and Emily knew: and thoroughly +agreed with Sam as to the cause of the storm. +Stealing was bad enough anyway, but on a +Sunday!</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the lightning kept up its play. The +thunder made talking arduous, but no one was +anyhow in a mood to chatter. Only thunder +was heard, and the hammering of the rain. But +suddenly, close under the window, there burst +out the most appalling inhuman shriek of terror.</p> + +<p>‘Tabby!’ cried John, and they all rushed to +the window.</p> + +<p>But Tabby had already flashed into the house: +and behind him was a whole club of wild cats +in hot pursuit. John momentarily opened the +dining-room door and puss slipped in, dishevelled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span> +and panting. Not even then did the brutes desist: +what insane fury led these jungle creatures to +pursue him into the very house is unimaginable; +but there they were, in the passage, caterwauling +in concert: and as if at their incantation the +thunder awoke anew, and the lightning nullified +the meagre table lamp. It was such a din +as you could not speak through. Tabby, his fur +on end, pranced up and down the room, his eyes +blazing, talking and sometimes exclaiming in a +tone of voice the children had never heard him +use before and which made their blood run cold. +He seemed like one inspired in the presence of +Death, he had gone utterly Delphic: and without +in the passage Hell’s pandemonium reigned +terrifically.</p> + +<p>The check could only be a short one. Outside +the door stood the big filter, and above the door the +fanlight was long since broken. Something black +and yelling flashed through the fanlight, landing +clean in the middle of the supper table, scattering +the forks and spoons and upsetting the lamp. And +another and another—but already Tabby was +through the window and streaking again for the +bush. The whole dozen of those wild cats leapt +one after the other from the top of the filter clean +through the fanlight onto the supper table, and +away from there only too hot in his tracks: in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span> +a moment the whole devil-hunt and its hopeless +quarry had vanished into the night.</p> + +<p>‘Oh Tabby, my darling Tabby!’ wailed John; +while Emily rushed again to the window.</p> + +<p>They were gone. The lightning behind the +creepers in the jungle lit them up like giant cobwebs: +but of Tabby and his pursuers there was +nothing to be seen.</p> + +<p>John burst into tears, the first time for several +years, and flung himself on his mother: Emily +stood transfixed at the window, her eyes glued in +horror on what she could not, in fact, see: and all +of a sudden was sick.</p> + +<p>‘God, what an evening!’ groaned Mr. Bas-Thornton, +groping in the darkness for what might +be left of their supper.</p> + +<p>Shortly after that Sam’s hut burst into flames. +They saw, from the dining-room, the old negro +stagger dramatically out into the darkness. He +was throwing stones at the sky. In a lull they +heard him cry: ‘I gib it back, didn’t I? I gib de +nasty t’ing back?’</p> + +<p>Then there was another blinding flash, and Sam +fell where he stood. Mr. Thornton pulled the +children roughly back and said something like +‘I’ll go and see. Keep them from the window.’</p> + +<p>Then he closed and barred the shutters, and +was gone.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span>John and the little ones kept up a continuous +sobbing. Emily wished some one would light a +lamp, she wanted to read. Anything, so as not to +think about poor Tabby.</p> + +<p>I suppose the wind must have begun to rise +some while before this, but now, by the time Mr. +Thornton had managed to carry old Sam’s body +into the house, it was more than a gale. The old +man, stiff in the joints as he might have been in +life, had gone as limp as a worm. Emily and +John, who had slipped unbeknownst into the +passage, were thrilled beyond measure at the way +he dangled: they could hardly tear themselves +away, and be back in the dining-room, before they +should be discovered.</p> + +<p>There Mrs. Thornton sat heroically in a chair, +her brood all grouped round her, saying the +Psalms, and the poems of Sir Walter Scott, over by +heart: while Emily tried to keep her mind off +Tabby by going over in her head all the details of +her Earthquake. At times the din, the rocketing +of the thunder and torrential shriek of the wind, +became so loud as almost to impinge on her inner +world: she wished this wretched thunderstorm +would hurry up and get over. First she held an +actual performance of the earthquake, went over +it direct, as if it was again happening. Then she +put it into Oratio Recta, told it as a story, beginning<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span> +with that magic phrase, ‘Once I was in an +Earthquake.’ But before long the dramatic element +reappeared—this time, the awed comments +of her imaginary English audience. When that +was done, she put it into the Historical—a Voice, +declaring that a girl called Emily was once in an +Earthquake. And so on, right through the whole +thing a third time.</p> + +<p>The horrid fate of poor Tabby appeared suddenly +before her eyes, caught her unawares: and +she was all but sick again. Even her earthquake +had failed her. Caught by the incubus, her mind +struggled frantically to clutch at even the outside +world, as an only remaining straw. She tried to +fix her interest on every least detail of the scene +around her—to count the slats in the shutters, any +least detail that was <i>outward</i>. So it was that for the +first time she really began to notice the weather.</p> + +<p>The wind by now was more than redoubled. +The shutters were bulging as if tired elephants +were leaning against them, and Father was trying +to tie the fastening with that handkerchief. But +to push against this wind was like pushing against +rock. The handkerchief, shutters, everything +burst: the rain poured in like the sea into a sinking +ship, the wind occupied the room, snatching +pictures from the wall, sweeping the table bare. +Through the gaping frames the lightning-lit scene<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span> +without was visible. The creepers, which before +had looked like cobwebs, now streamed up into +the sky like new-combed hair. Bushes were lying +flat, laid back on the ground as close as a rabbit +lays back his ears. Branches were leaping about +loose in the sky. The negro huts were clean gone, +and the negroes crawling on their stomachs across +the compound to gain the shelter of the house. +The bouncing rain seemed to cover the ground +with a white smoke, a sort of sea in which the +blacks wallowed like porpoises. One nigger-boy +began to roll away: his mother, forgetting caution, +rose to her feet: and immediately the fat old beldam +was blown clean away, bowling along across +fields and hedgerows like some one in a funny +fairy-story, till she fetched up against a wall and +was pinned there, unable to move. But the others +managed to reach the house, and soon could be +heard in the cellar underneath.</p> + +<p>Moreover the very floor began to ripple, as a +loose carpet will ripple on a gusty day: in opening +the cellar door the blacks had let the wind in, and +now for some time they could not shut it again. +The wind, to push against, was more like a solid +block than a current of air.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton went round the house—to see +what could be done, he said. He soon realised +that the next thing to go would be the roof. So<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> +he returned to the Niobe-group in the dining-room. +Mrs. Thornton was half-way through <i>The +Lady of the Lake</i>, the smaller children listening +with rapt attention. Exasperated, he told them +that they would probably not be alive in half an +hour. No one seemed particularly interested in +his news: Mrs. Thornton continued her recitation +with faultless memory.</p> + +<p>After another couple of cantos the threatened +roof went. Fortunately, the wind taking it from +inside, most of it was blown clear of the house: +but one of the couples collapsed skew-eyed, and +was hung up on what was left of the dining-room +door—within an ace of hitting John. Emily, to +her intense resentment, suddenly felt cold. All at +once, she found she had had enough of the storm: +it had become intolerable, instead of a welcome +distraction.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton began to look for something to +break through the floor. If only he could make a +hole in it, he might get his wife and children down +into the cellar. Fortunately he did not have to look +far: one arm of the fallen couple had already done +the work for him. Laura, Rachel, Emily, Edward +and John, Mrs. Thornton and finally Mr. Thornton +himself, were passed down into the darkness +already thronged with negroes and goats.</p> + +<p>With great good sense, Mr. Thornton brought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span> +with him from the room above a couple of decanters +of madeira, and every one had a swig, from +Laura to the oldest negro. All the children made +the most of this unholy chance, but somehow to +Emily the bottle got passed twice, and each time +she took a good pull. It was enough, at their age; +and while what was left of the house was blown +away over their heads, through the lull and the +ensuing aerial return match, John, Emily, Edward, +Rachel, and Laura, blind drunk, slept in a heap on +the cellar floor: a sleep over which the appalling +fate of Tabby, torn to pieces by those fiends almost +under their very eyes, dominated with the easy +empire of nightmare.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 2</i></h2> +</div> + + +<p class="drop-cap2">ALL night the water poured through the +house floor onto the people sheltering below: +but (perhaps owing to the madeira) +it did them no harm. Shortly after the second +bout of blowing, however, the rain stopped; and +when dawn came Mr. Thornton crept out to assess +the damage.</p> + +<p>The country was quite unrecognisable, as if it +had been swept by a spate. You could hardly tell, +geographically speaking, where you were. It is +vegetation which gives the character to a tropic +landscape, not the shape of the ground: and all +the vegetation, for miles, was now pulp. The +ground itself had been ploughed up by instantaneous +rivers, biting deep into the red earth. The +only living thing in sight was a cow: and she had +lost both her horns.</p> + +<p>The wooden part of the house was nearly all gone. +After they had succeeded in reaching shelter, one +wall after another had blown down. The furniture +was splintered into matchwood. Even the +heavy mahogany dining-table, which they loved, +and had always kept with its legs in little glass +baths of oil to defeat the ants, was spirited right<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span> +away. There were some fragments which might +be part of it, or they might not: you could not +tell.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton returned to the cellar and helped +his wife out: she was so cramped as hardly to be +able to move. They knelt down together and +thanked God for not having treated them any +worse. Then they stood up and stared about +them rather stupidly. It seemed not credible that +all this had been done by a current of air. Mr. +Thornton patted the atmosphere with his hand. +When still, it was so soft, so rare: how could one +believe that Motion, itself something impalpable, +had lent it a hardness: that this gentle, hind-like +Meteor should have last night seized Fat Betsy +with the rapacity of a tiger and the lift of a roc, and +flung her, as he had seen her flung, across two fair-sized +fields?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thornton understood his gesture.</p> + +<p>‘Remember who is its Prince,’ she said.</p> + +<p>The stable was damaged, though not completely +destroyed: and Mr. Thornton’s mule was so much +hurt he had to tell a negro to cut its throat. The +buggy was smashed beyond repair. The only +building undamaged was a stone chamber which +had been the hospital of the old sugar-estate: so +they woke the children, who were feeling ill and +beyond words unhappy, and moved into this:<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> +where the negroes, with an unexpected energy and +kindliness, did everything they could to make +them comfortable. It was paved and unlighted: +but solid.</p> + +<p>The children were bilious for a few days, and +inclined to dislike each other: but they accepted +the change in their lives practically without noticing +it. It is a fact that it takes experience before +one can realise what is a catastrophe and what is +not. Children have little faculty of distinguishing +between disaster and the ordinary course of their +lives. If Emily had known this was a <i>Hurricane</i>, +she would doubtless have been far more impressed, +for the word was full of romantic terrors. But it +never entered her head: and a thunderstorm, +however severe, is after all a commonplace affair. +The mere fact that it had done incalculable damage, +while the earthquake had done none at all, gave it +no right whatever to rival the latter in the hierarchy +of cataclysms: an Earthquake is a thing +apart. If she was silent, and inclined to brood +over some inward terror, it was not the hurricane +she was thinking of, it was the death of Tabby. +That, at times, seemed a horror beyond all bearing. +It was her first intimate contact with death—and a +death of violence, too. The death of Old Sam +had no such effect: there is, after all, a vast difference +between a negro and a favourite cat.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>There was something enjoyable, too, in camping +in the hospital: a sort of everlasting picnic in +which their parents for once were taking part. +Indeed it led them to begin for the first time to +regard their parents as rational human beings, +with understandable tastes—such as sitting on the +floor to eat one’s dinner.</p> + +<p>It would have surprised Mrs. Thornton very +much to have been told that hitherto she had +meant practically nothing to her children. She +took a keen interest in Psychology (the Art Babblative, +Southey calls it). She was full of theories +about their upbringing which she had not time to +put into effect; but nevertheless she thought she +had a deep understanding of their temperaments +and was the centre of their passionate devotion. +Actually, she was congenitally incapable of telling +one end of a child from the other. She was a +dumpy little woman—Cornish, I believe. When +she was herself a baby she was so small they carried +her about on a cushion for fear a clumsy human +arm might damage her. She could read when she +was two and a half. Her reading was always +serious. Nor had she been backward in the +humaner studies: her mistresses spoke of her +Deportment as something rarely seen outside the +older Royal Houses: in spite of a figure like a +bolster, she could step into a coach like an angel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span> +getting onto a cloud. She was very quick-tempered.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bas-Thornton also had every accomplishment, +except two: that of primogeniture, and +that of making a living. Either would have provided +for them.</p> + +<p>If it would have surprised the mother, it would +undoubtedly have surprised the children also to +be told how little their parents meant to them. +Children seldom have any power of quantitative +self-analysis: whatever the facts, they believe as +an article of faith that they love Father and Mother +first and equally. Actually, the Thornton children +had loved Tabby first and foremost in all the world, +some of each other second, and hardly noticed +their mother’s existence more than once a week. +Their father they loved a little more: partly owing +to the ceremony of riding home on his stirrups.</p> + +<p>Jamaica remained, and blossomed anew, its +womb being inexhaustible. Mr. and Mrs. Thornton +remained, and with patience and tears tried to +reconstruct things, in so far as they could be reconstructed. +But the danger which their beloved +little ones had been through was not a thing to +risk again. Heaven had warned them. The children +must go.</p> + +<p>Nor was the only danger physical.</p> + +<p>‘That awful night!’ said Mrs. Thornton, once,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> +when discussing their plan of sending them home +to school: ‘Oh my dear, what the poor little +things must have suffered! Think how much +more acute Fear is to a child! And they were so +brave, so English.’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t believe they realised it.’ (He only said +that to be contradictious: he could hardly expect +it to be taken seriously.)</p> + +<p>‘You know, I am terribly afraid what permanent, +<i>inward</i> effect a shock like that may have on +them. Have you noticed they never so much as +mention it? In England they would at least be +safe from dangers of that sort.’</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the children, accepting the new life +as a matter of course, were thoroughly enjoying it. +Most children, on a railway journey, prefer to +change at as many stations as possible.</p> + +<p>The rebuilding of Ferndale, too, was a matter of +absorbing interest. For there is one advantage to +these match-box houses—easy gone, easy come: +and once begun, the work proceeded apace. Mr. +Thornton himself led the building gang, employing +no end of mechanical devices of his own devising, +and it was not long before the day came +when he stood with his handsome head emerging +through the fast dwindling hole in the new roof, +shouting directions to the two black carpenters, +who, lying spread-eagle in their check shirts,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> +pinned on shingle after shingle—walling him in, +like the victim in some horrid story. At last he +had to draw in his head, and where it had been the +last few shingles were clapped into place.</p> + +<p>An hour later the children had looked their last +on Ferndale.</p> + +<p>When they had been told they were to go to +England, they had received it as an isolated fact: +thrilling in itself, but without any particular causation—for +it could hardly be due to the death of the +cat, and nothing else of importance had occurred +lately.</p> + +<p>The first stage of their journey was by land, to +Montego Bay, and the notable thing about it was +that the borrowed wagonette was drawn not by a +pair of horses or a pair of mules, but by one horse +and one mule. Whenever the horse wanted to go +fast the mule fell asleep in the shafts: and if the +driver woke it up it set off at a gallop, which +angered the horse. Their progress would have +been slow anyhow, as all the roads were washed +away.</p> + +<p>John was the only one who could remember +England. What he remembered was sitting at +the top of a flight of stairs, which was fenced off +from him by a little gate, playing with a red toy +milk-cart: and he knew, without having to look, +that in the room on the left Baby Emily was lying<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span> +in her cot. Emily <i>said</i> she could remember something +which sounded like a Prospect of the Backs +of some Brick Houses at Richmond: but she +might have invented it. The others had been +born in the Island—Edward only just.</p> + +<p>They all had, nevertheless, most elaborate ideas +about England, built up out of what their parents +had told them, and from the books and old magazines +they sometimes looked at. Needless to +say it was a very Atlantis, a land at the back of +the North Wind: and going there was about +as exciting as it would be to die and go to +Heaven.</p> + +<p>John told them all about the top of the stairs for +the hundredth time as they drove along; the +others listening attentively (as the Believing do to +a man remembering his reincarnations).</p> + +<p>Suddenly Emily recalled sitting at a window +and seeing a big bird with a beautiful tail. At the +same time there had been a horrid screeching +going on, or perhaps something else disagreeable—she +could not quite remember which sense was +offended. It did not occur to her that it was this +self-same bird which had screeched: and anyhow +it was all too vague for her to try to describe it. +She switched off to wondering how it was possible +actually to <i>sleep</i> when walking, as the driver said +the mule did.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>They put up for the first night at St. Anne’s, and +there another notable thing occurred. Their host +was a hardened Creole: and at supper he ate Cayenne +pepper with a spoon. Not ordinary Cayenne +pepper, mind, such as is sold in shops, which is +heavily adulterated with log-wood: but the far +fierier pure original. This indeed was an Event +of the first water: none of them ever forgot it.</p> + +<p>The desolation through which they drove is indescribable. +Tropical scenery is anyhow tedious, +prolific, and gross: the greens more or less uniform: +great tubular stems supporting thick leaves: +no tree has an outline because it is crushed up +against something else—no <i>room</i>. In Jamaica this +profusion swarms over the very mountain ranges: +and even the peaks are so numerous that on the +top of one you are surrounded by others, and can +see nothing. There are hundreds of flowers. +Then imagine all this luxuriance smashed, as with +a pestle and mortar—crushed, pulped, and already +growing again! Mr. Thornton and his wife were +ready to shout with relief when they caught their +first glimpse of the sea, and at last came out in view +of the whole beautiful sweep of Montego Bay +itself.</p> + +<p>In the open sea there was a considerable swell: +but within the shelter of the coral reef, with its +pinhole entrance, all was still as a mirror, where<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span> +three ships of different sizes lay at anchor, the +whole of each beautiful machine repeated in the +water under it. Within the Roads lay the Bogue +Islands; and immediately to the left of the islands, +in the low land at the base of the hills, was the +mouth of a small river—swampy, and (Mr. Thornton +informed John) infested with crocodiles. The +children had never seen a crocodile, and hoped +one might venture as far as the town, where they +presently arrived: but none did. It was with +considerable disappointment that they found they +were to go on board the barque at once; for they +still hoped that round some corner of the street a +crocodile might yet appear.</p> + +<p>The <i>Clorinda</i> had let go her anchor in six +fathoms: the water so clear, and the light so +bright, that as they drew near the reflection suddenly +disappeared, and instead they found themselves +looking right underneath her and out the +other side. The refraction made her seem as +flat-bellied as a turtle, as if practically all of her +were above the surface: and the anchor on its +cable seemed to stream out flatly, like a downwards +kite, twisting and twining (owing to the undulating +surface) in the writhing coral.</p> + +<p>This was the only impression Emily retained of +going on board the ship: but the ship itself was a +strange enough object, requiring all her attention.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> +John was the only one who could remember the +journey out at all clearly. Emily thought she +could, but was really only remembering her visualisations +of what she had been told: in fact, she +found that a real ship was totally unlike the thing +she thought she remembered.</p> + +<p>By some last whim of the captain’s the shrouds +were being set up—tauter than seemed good to the +sailors, who grumbled as they strained the creaking +lanyards. John did not envy them, winding +away at that handle in the hot sun: but he did +envy the chap whose job it was to dip his hand in +a great pot of aromatic Stockholm tar, and work +it into the dead-eyes. He was tarred up to the +elbows: and John itched to be so too.</p> + +<p>In a moment the children were scattered all over +the ship, smelling here, miaowing, sniffing there, +like cats in a new home. Mr. and Mrs. Thornton +stood by the main companion-way, a little disconsolate +at their children’s happy preoccupation, +a little regretting the lack of proper emotional +scene.</p> + +<p>‘I think they will be happy here, Frederic,’ said +Mrs. Thornton. ‘I wish we could have afforded +to send them by the steamboat: but children find +amusement even in discomfort.’</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton grunted.</p> + +<p>‘I wish schools had never been invented!’ he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span> +suddenly burst out: ‘they wouldn’t then be so +indispensable!’</p> + +<p>There was a short pause for the logic of this to +cross the footlights: then he went on:</p> + +<p>‘I know what will happen; they’ll come away +... <i>mugs</i>! Just ordinary little mugs, like any one +else’s brats! I’m dashed if I don’t think a hundred +hurricanes would be better than that.’</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thornton shuddered: but she continued +bravely:</p> + +<p>‘You know, I think they were getting almost +<i>too</i> devoted to us? We have been such an unrivalled +centre of their lives and thoughts. It +doesn’t do for minds developing to be completely +dependent on one person.’</p> + +<p>Captain Marpole’s grizzled head emerged from +the scuttle. A sea-dog: clear blue eyes of a +translucent trustworthiness: a merry, wrinkled, +morocco-coloured face: a rumbling voice.</p> + +<p>‘He’s too good to be true,’ whispered Mrs. +Thornton.</p> + +<p>‘Not at all! It’s a sophism to imagine people +don’t conform to type!’ barked Mr. Thornton. +He felt at sixes and sevens.</p> + +<p>Captain Marpole certainly looked the ideal Children’s +Captain. He would, Mrs. Thornton decided, +be careful without being fussy—for she was +all in favour of courageous gymnastics, though<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span> +glad she would not have to witness them herself. +Captain Marpole cast his eyes benignantly over the +swarming imps.</p> + +<p>‘They’ll worship him,’ she whispered to her +husband. (She meant, of course, that he would +worship them.) It was an important point, this, +of the captain: important as the personality of a +headmaster.</p> + +<p>‘So that’s the nursery, eh?’ said the captain, +crushing Mrs. Thornton’s hand. She strove to +answer, but found her throat undoubtedly paralysed. +Even Mr. Thornton’s ready tongue was +at a loss. He looked hard at the captain, jerked +his thumb towards the children, wrestled in his +mind with an elaborate speech, and finally enunciated +in a small, unlikely voice:</p> + +<p>‘Smack ’em.’</p> + +<p>Then the captain had to go about his duties: +and for an hour the father and mother sat disconsolately +on the main-hatch, quite deserted. Even +when all was ready for departure it was impossible +to muster the flock for a collective good-bye.</p> + +<p>Already the tug was fulminating in its gorge: +and ashore they must go. Emily and John +had been captured, and stood talking uneasily to +their parents, as if to strangers, using only a +quarter of their minds. With a rope to be climbed +dangling before his very nose, John simply did not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> +know how this delay was to be supported, and +lapsed into complete silence.</p> + +<p>‘Time to go ashore, Ma’am,’ said the captain: +‘we must be off now.’</p> + +<p>Very formally the two generations kissed each +other, and said farewell. Indeed the elders were +already at the gangway before the meaning of it all +dawned in Emily’s head. She rushed after her +mother, gripped her ample flesh in two strong +fists, and sobbed and wept, ‘Come too, Mother, +oh, do come too!’</p> + +<p>Honestly, it had only occurred to her that very +moment that this was a <i>parting</i>.</p> + +<p>‘But think what an adventure it will be,’ said +Mrs. Thornton bravely: ‘much more than if I +come too!—You’ll have to look after the Liddlies +just as if you were a real grown-up!’</p> + +<p>‘But I don’t want any more adventures!’ +sobbed Emily: ‘I’ve <i>got</i> an <i>Earthquake</i>!’</p> + +<p>Passions were running far too high for any one +to be aware how the final separation took place. +The next thing Mrs. Thornton could remember +was how tired her arm had been, after waving and +waving at that dwindling speck which bore away +on the land breeze, hung awhile stationary in the +intervening calm, then won the Trade and climbed +up into the blue.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, at the rail stood Margaret Fernandez,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span> +who, with her little brother Harry, was going +to England by the same boat. No one had come +to see them off: and the brown nurse who was +accompanying them had gone below the moment +she came on board, so as to be ill as quickly as +possible. How handsome Mr. Bas-Thornton had +looked, with his English distinction! Yet every +one knew he had no money. Her set white face +was turned towards the land, her chin quivering at +intervals. Slowly the harbour disappeared: the +disordered profligacy of the turbulent, intricate +mass of hills sunk lower in the sky. The occasional +white houses, and white puffs of steam and +smoke from the sugar-mills, vanished. At last the +land, all palely shimmering like the bloom on +grapes, settled down into the mirror of emerald +and blue.</p> + +<p>She wondered whether the Thornton children +would prove companionable, or a nuisance. They +were all younger than she was: which was a pity.</p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>On the journey back to Ferndale both father +and mother were silent, actuated by that tug of +jealousy against sympathy which a strong common +emotion begets in familiar rather than passionate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> +companions. They were above the ordinary sentimentalities +of grass-bereavement (above choking +over small shoes found in cupboards): but not +above a rather strong dose of the natural instincts +of parenthood, Frederic no less than his wife.</p> + +<p>But when they were nearly home, Mrs. Thornton +began to chuckle to herself.</p> + +<p>‘Funny little thing, Emily! Did you notice +almost the last thing she said? She said “I’ve +got an earthquake.” She must have got it mixed +up in her silly old head with earache.’</p> + +<p>There was a long pause: and then she remarked +again:</p> + +<p>‘John is so much the most sensitive: he was +absolutely too full to speak.’</p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>When they got home it was many days before +they could bring themselves openly to mention the +children. When some reference had to be made, +they spoke round them, in an uncomfortable way, +as if they had died.</p> + +<p>But after a few weeks they had a most welcome +surprise. The <i>Clorinda</i> was calling at the Caymans, +and taking the Leeward Passage: and while riding +off the Grand Cayman Emily and John wrote<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span> +letters, and a vessel bound for Kingston had taken +charge of them and eventually they reached Ferndale. +It had not even occurred to either parent +that this would be possible.</p> + +<p>This was Emily’s:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dear Parents</span>,—This ship is full of Turtles. +We stopped here and they came out in boats. There +is turtles in the saloon under the tables for you to put +your feet on, and turtles in the passages and on the +deck, and everywhere you go. The captain says we +mustn’t fall overboard now because his boats are full +of turtles too, with water. The sailors bring the +others on deck every day to have a wash and when +you stand them up they look just as if they had pinafores +on. They make such a funny sighing and +groaning in the night, at first I thought it was everybody +being ill, but you get used to it, it is just like +people being ill.—Your loving daughter,</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Emily.</span></p> +</div> + +<p>And John’s:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> + +<p><span class="smcap">My dearest Parents</span>,—The captain’s son Henry +is a wonderful chap, he goes up the rigging with his +hands alone, he is ever so strong. He can turn +round under a bellying pin without touching the +deck, I can’t but I hang from the ratlines by my heels +which the sailors say is very brave, but they don’t +like Emily doing it, funny. I hope you are both in +excellent health, one of the sailors has a monkey but +its tail is Sore.—Your affectionate Son,</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">John.</span></p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>That was the last news they could expect for +many months. The <i>Clorinda</i> was not touching +anywhere else. It gave Mrs. Thornton a cold +feeling in the stomach to measure just <i>how</i> long. +But she argued, logically enough, that the time +must come to an end, all time does: there is nothing +so inexorable as a ship, plodding away, plodding +away, all over the place, till at last it quite +certainly reaches that small speck on the map +which all the time it had intended to reach. Philosophically +speaking, a ship in its port of departure +is just as much in its port of arrival: two point-events +differing in time and place, but not in +degree of reality. <i>Ergo</i>, that first letter from +England was as good as written, only not quite ... +legible yet. And the same applied to seeing +them. (But here one must stop, for the same +argument applied to old age and death, it wouldn’t +do.)</p> + +<p>Yet, a bare fortnight after the arrival of this +first budget, still another letter arrived, from +Havana. The <i>Clorinda</i> had put in there unexpectedly, +it appeared: the letter was from Captain +Marpole.</p> + +<p>‘What a dear man he is,’ said Alice. ‘He must +have known how anxious we would be for every +scrap of news.’</p> + +<p>Captain Marpole’s letter was not so terse and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span> +vivid as the children’s had been: still, for the news +it contained, I give it in full:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Havana de Cuba.</span></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Honoured Sir and Madam</span>,—I hasten to write to +you to relieve you of any uncertainty!</p> + +<p>After leaving the Caymans we stood for the Leeward +Passage, and sighted the Isle of Pines and False +Cape on the morning of the 19th and Cape S. Antonio +in the evening, but were prevented from rounding +the same by a true Norther, the first of the season, on +the 22nd, however, the wind coming round sufficiently +we rounded the cape in a lively fashion and +stood N½E. well away from the Coloradoes which +are a dangerous reef lying off this part of the Cuban +coast. At six o’clock on the morning of the 23rd +there being light airs only I sighted three sail in the +North-East, evidently merchantmen bound on the +same course as ourselves, at the same time a schooner +of similar character was observed standing out towards +us from the direction of Black Key, and I +pointed her out to my mate just before going below, +having the wind of us he was within hailing distance +by ten in the morning, judge then of our astonishment +when he rudely opened ten or twelve disguised +gun-ports and unmasked a whole broadside of +artillery trained upon us, ordering us at the same +time in the most peremptory manner to heave-to or +he would sink us instanter. There was nothing to +do but to comply although considering the friendly +relations at present existing between the English and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span> +all other governments my mate was quite at a loss to +account for his action, and imagined it due to a mistake +which would be speedily explained, we were +immediately boarded by about fifty or seventy +ruffians of the worst Spanish type, armed with knives +and cutlasses, who took possession of the ship and +confined me in my cabin and my mate and crew forward +while they ransacked the vessel committing +every possible excess broaching rum-casks and breaking +the necks off wine-bottles and soon a great +number of them were lying about the deck in an intoxicated +condition, their leader then informed me +he was aware I had a considerable sum in specie on +board and used <i>every possible threat which villainy could +devise</i> to make me disclose its hiding-place, it was +useless for me to assure him that beyond the fifty or +so pounds they had already discovered I carried +none, he grew even more insistent in his demands, +declaring that his information was certain, tearing +down the panelling in my cabin in his search. He +carried off my instruments, my clothes, and all my +personal possessions, even taking from me the poor +Locket in which I was used to carry the portrait of +my Wife, and no appeal to his sensibility, tho’ I shed +tears, would make him return this to him worthless +object, he also tore down and carried away the cabin +bell-pulls, which could be of no possible use to him +and was an act of the most open <i>piracy</i>, at length, +seeing I was obdurate, he threatened to blow up the +ship <i>and all in it</i> if I would not yield, he prepared the +train and would have proceeded to carry out this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span> +devilish threat if I had not in this last extremity, +consented.</p> + +<p>I come now to the latter part of my tale. The +children had taken refuge in the deck-house and had +been up to now free from harm, except for a cuff or +two and the Degrading Sights they must have witnessed, +but no sooner was the specie some five thousand +pounds in all mostly my private property and +most of our cargo (chiefly rum sugar coffee and +arrowroot) removed to the schooner than her captain, +in sheer infamous wantonness, had them all brought +out from their refuge your own little ones and the +two Fernandez children who were also on board +and murdered them, every one. That anything so +wicked should look like a man I should not have +believed, had I been told, tho’ I have lived long and +seen all kinds of men, I think he is mad: indeed I am +sure of it; and I take Oath that he shall be brought +to at least that tithe of justice which is in Human +hands, for two days we drifted about in a helpless +condition, for our rigging had all been cut, and at last +fell in with an American man-of-war, who gave us +some assistance, and would have proceeded in pursuit +of the miscreants himself had he not most explicit +orders to elsewhere. I then put in to the port +of Havana, where I informed the correspondent +of Lloyds, the government, and the representative of +the <i>Times</i> newspaper, and take the opportunity of +writing you this melancholy letter before proceeding +to England.</p> + +<p>There is one point on which you will still feel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span> +some anxiety, considering the sex of some of the +poor innocents, and on which I am glad to be able +to set your minds at rest, the children were taken onto +the other vessel in the evening and I am glad to say +there done to death <i>immediately</i>, and their little bodies +cast into the sea, as I saw with great relief with my +own eyes. There was no time for what you might +fear to have occurred, and this consolation I am glad +to be able to give you.—I have the honour to be,</p> + +<p class="right"><span class="indentright2">Your obedient servant,</span><br> +<span class="indentright"><span class="smcap">Jas. Marpole</span>,</span><br> +Master, barque <i>Clorinda</i>.</p> +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 3</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE passage from Montego Bay to the Caymans, +where the children had written their +letters, is only a matter of a few hours: +indeed, in clear weather one can look right across +from Jamaica to the peak of Turquino in Cuba.</p> + +<p>There is no harbour; and the anchorage, owing +to the reefs and ledges, is difficult. The <i>Clorinda</i> +brought up off the Grand Cayman, the look-out +man in the chains feeling his way to a white, sandy +patch of bottom which affords the only safe resting-place +there, and causing the anchor to be let +go to windward of it. Luckily, the weather was +fine.</p> + +<p>The island, a longish one at the western end of +the group, is low, and covered with palms. Presently +a succession of boats brought out a quantity +of turtles, as Emily described. The natives also +brought parrots to sell to the sailors: but failed to +dispose of many.</p> + +<p>At last, however, the uncomfortable Caymans +were left behind, and they set their course towards +the Isle of Pines, a large island in a gulf of the +Cuban coast. One of the sailors, called Curtis, +had once been wrecked there, and was full of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span> +stories about it. It is a very unpleasant place; +sparsely inhabited, and covered with labyrinthine +woods. The only food available is a kind of +tree. There is also a species of bean which looks +tempting: but it is deadly poison. The crocodiles, +Curtis said, were so fierce they chased him +and his companions into trees: the only way to +escape from them was to throw them your cap +to worry: or if you were bold, to disable them +with a blow of a stick on the loins. There were +also a great many snakes, including a kind of +boa.</p> + +<p>The current off the Isle of Pines sets strongly to +the east: so the <i>Clorinda</i> kept close inshore, to +cheat it. They passed Cape Corrientes—looking, +when first sighted, like two hummocks in the sea: +they passed Holandes Point, known as False C. +Antonio: but were prevented for some time, as +Captain Marpole told in his letter, from rounding +the true one. For to attempt C. Antonio in a +Norther is to waste your labour.</p> + +<p>They lay-to in sight of that long, low, rocky, +treeless promontory in which the great island of +Cuba terminates, and waited. They were so close +that the fisherman’s hut on its southern side was +clearly discernible.</p> + +<p>For the children, those first few days at sea had +flashed by like a kind of prolonged circus. There<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> +is no machine invented for sober purposes so well +adapted also to play as the rigging of a ship: and +the kindly captain, as Mrs. Thornton had divined, +was willing to give them a lot of freedom. First +came the climbing of a few rungs of the ratlines in +a sailor’s charge: higher each time, till John +attained a gingerly touching of the yard: then +hugged it: then straddled it. Soon, running up +the ratlines and prancing on the yard (as if it were +a mere table-top) had no further thrill for John or +Emily either. (To go out on the yard was not +allowed.)</p> + +<p>But when the ratlines had palled, the most lasting +joy undoubtedly lay in that network of foot-ropes +and chains and stays which spreads out under +and on each side of the bowsprit. Here, familiarity +only bred content. Here, in fine weather, one +could climb or be still: stand, sit, hang, swing, or +lie: now this end up, now that: and all with the +cream of the blue sea being whipt up for one’s own +especial pleasure, almost within touching distance: +and the big white wooden lady (Clorinda herself), +bearing the whole vessel so lightly on her back, +her knees in the hubble-bubble, her cracks almost +filled up with so much painting, vaster than any +living lady, as a constant and unannoying companion.</p> + +<p>In the midst there was a kind of spear, its haft<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> +set against the under-side of the bowsprit, its point +perpendicularly down towards the water—the +dolphin-striker. Here it was that the old monkey +(who had the Sore tail) loved to hang, by the mere +stub which was all a devouring cancer had left him, +chattering to the water. He took no notice of the +children, nor they of him: but both parties grew +attached to each other, for all that.</p> + +<p>—How small the children all looked, on a ship, +when you saw them beside the sailors! It was +as if they were a different order of beings! Yet +they were living creatures just the same, full of +promise.</p> + +<p><i>John</i>, with his downy, freckled face, and general +round energeticalness.</p> + +<p><i>Emily</i>, with her huge palm-leaf hat, and colourless +cotton frock tight over her minute impish +erect body: her thin, almost expressionless face: +her dark grey eyes contracted to escape the blaze, +yet shining as it were in spite of themselves: and +her really beautiful lips, that looked almost as if +they were sculptured.</p> + +<p><i>Margaret Fernandez</i>, taller (as midgets go: she +was just thirteen), with her square white face and +tangled hair, her elaboratish clothes.</p> + +<p>Her little brother <i>Harry</i>, by some throw-back +for all the world like a manikin Spaniard.</p> + +<p>And the smaller Thorntons: <i>Edward</i>, mouse-coloured,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span> +with a general mousy (but pleasing) expression: +<i>Rachel</i>, with tight short gold curls and +a fat pink face (John’s colouring watered down): +and last of all <i>Laura</i>, a queer mite of three with +heavy dark eyebrows, and blue eyes, a big head-top +and a receding chin—as if the Procreative +Spirit was getting a little hysterical by the time it +reached her. A silver-age conception, Laura’s, +decidedly.</p> + +<p>When the Norther blew itself out, it soon fell +away almost dead calm. The morning they finally +rounded Cape San Antonio was hot, blazing hot. +But it is never stuffy at sea: there is only this disadvantage, +that while on land a shady hat protects +you from the sun, at sea nothing can protect you +from that second sun which is mirrored upwards +from the water, strikes under all defences, and +burns the unseasoned skin from all your under-sides. +Poor John! His throat and chin were +a blistered red.</p> + +<p>From the point itself there is a whitish bank in +two fathoms, bowed from north to north-east. +The outer side is clean and steep-to, and in fine +weather one can steer along it by eye. It ends in +Black Key, a rock standing out of the water like a +ship’s hull. Beyond that lies a channel, very foul +and difficult to navigate: and beyond that again +the Coloradoes Reef begins, the first of a long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span> +chain of reefs following the coast in a north-easterly +direction as far as Honde Bay, two-thirds the way +to Havana. Within the reefs lies the intricate +Canal de Guaniguanico, of which this channel is +the westernmost outlet, with its own rather dubious +little ports. But ocean traffic, needless to say, +shuns the whole box of tricks: and the <i>Clorinda</i> +advisedly stood well away to the northward, keeping +her course at a gentle amble for the open +Atlantic.</p> + +<p>John was sitting outside the galley with the +sailor called Curtis, who was instructing him in the +neat mystery of a Turk’s-head. Young Henry +Marpole was steering. Emily was messing around—not +talking, just being by him.</p> + +<p>As for the other sailors, they were all congregated +in a ring, up in the bows, so that one saw +nothing but their backs. But every now and then +a general guffaw, and a sudden surging of the +whole group, showed they were up to something +or other.</p> + +<p>John presently tiptoed forward, to see what it +might be. He thrust his bullet-head among their +legs, and worked his way in till he had as good a +view as the earliest comer.</p> + +<p>He found they had got the old monkey, and +were filling him up with rum. First they gave +him biscuit soaked in it: then they dipped rags in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span> +a pannikin of the stuff, and squeezed them into his +mouth. Then they tried to make him drink +direct: but that he would not do—it only wasted +a lot of spirit.</p> + +<p>John felt a vague horror at all this: though of +course he did not guess the purpose behind it.</p> + +<p>The poor brute shivered and chattered, rolled +his eyes, spluttered. I suppose it must have been +an excruciatingly funny sight. Every now and +then he would seem altogether overcome by the +spirit. Then one of them would lay him on the +top of an old beef barrel—but hey presto, he would +be up like lightning, trying to streak through the +air over their heads. But he was no bird: they +caught him each time, and set to work to dope +him again.</p> + +<p>As for John, he could no more have left the +scene now than Jacko the monkey could.</p> + +<p>It was astonishing what a lot of spirit the +wizened little brute could absorb. He was drunk, +of course: hopelessly, blindly, madly drunk. But +he was not paralytic, not even somnolent: and it +seemed as if nothing could overcome him. So at +last they gave up the attempt. They fetched a +wooden box, and cut a notch in the edge. Then +they put him on the barrel-top, and clapped the +box over him, and after much manœuvring his +gangrenous tail was made to come out through<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> +the notch. Anaesthetised or not, the operation +on him was to proceed. John stared, transfixed, +at that obscene wriggling stump which was all one +could see of the animal: and out of the corner of +his eye he could see at the same time the uproarious +operators, the tar-stained knife.</p> + +<p>But the moment the blade touched flesh, with an +awful screech the mommet contrived to fling off his +cage—leapt on the surgeon’s head—leapt from +there high in the air—caught the forestay—and +in a twinkling was away and up high in the fore-rigging.</p> + +<p>Then began the hue and cry. Sixteen men +flinging about in lofty acrobatics, all to catch one +poor old drunk monkey. For he was drunk as a +lord, and sick as a cat. His course varied between +wild and hair-raising leaps (a sort of inspired gymnastics), +and doleful incompetent reelings on a +taut rope which threatened at every moment to +catapult him into the sea. But even so they +could never quite catch him.</p> + +<p>No wonder that all the children, now, stood +open-mouthed and open-eyed on the deck beneath +in the sun till their necks nearly broke—<i>such</i> a Free +Fun Fair and Circus!</p> + +<p>And no wonder that on that passenger-schooner +which Marpole, before going below, had sighted +drifting towards them from the direction of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span> +Black Key channel, the ladies had left the shade of +the awning and were crowding at the rail, parasols +twirling, lorgnettes and opera-glasses in action, +all twittering like a cage of linnets. Just too far +off to distinguish the tiny quarry, they might well +have wondered what sort of a bedlam-vessel of +sea-acrobats the light easterly air was bearing them +down upon.</p> + +<p>They were so interested that presently a boat +was hoisted out, and the ladies—and some gentlemen +as well—crowded into it.</p> + +<p>Poor little Jacko missed his hold at last: fell +plump on the deck and broke his neck. That was +the end of him—and of the hunt too, of course. +The aerial ballet was over, in its middle, with no +final tableau. The sailors began, in twos and +threes, to slide to the deck.</p> + +<p>But the visitors were already on board.</p> + +<p>That is how the <i>Clorinda</i> really was taken. +There was no display of artillery—but then, Captain +Marpole could hardly know this, seeing he +was below in his bunk at the time. Henry was +steering by that sixth sense which only comes into +operation when the other five are asleep. The +mate and crew had been so intent on what they +were doing that the Flying Dutchman himself +might have laid alongside, for all they cared.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span></p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>Indeed, the whole manœuvre was executed so +quietly that Captain Marpole never even woke—incredible +though this will seem to a seaman. +But then, Marpole had begun life as a successful +coal-merchant.</p> + +<p>The mate and crew were bundled into the +fo’c’sle (the Fox-hole, the children thought it was +called), and confined there, the scuttle being +secured with a couple of nails.</p> + +<p>The children themselves were shepherded, as +related, into the deck-house, where the chairs, and +perfectly useless pieces of old rope, and broken +tools, and dried-up paint-pots were kept, without +taking alarm. But the door was immediately shut +on them. They had to wait for hours and hours +before anything else happened—nearly all day, in +fact: and they got very bored, and rather cross.</p> + +<p>The actual number of the men who had effected +the capture cannot have been more than eight or +nine, most of them ‘women’ at that, and not +armed—at least with any visible weapon. But a +second boatload soon followed them from the +schooner. These, for form’s sake, were armed +with muskets. But there was no possible resistance +to fear. Two long nails through the scuttle +can secure any number of men pretty effectually.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>With this second boatload came both the captain +and the mate. The former was a clumsy great +fellow, with a sad, silly face. He was bulky; yet +so ill-proportioned one got no impression of +power. He was modestly dressed in a drab shore-going +suit: he was newly shaven, and his sparse +hair was pomaded so that it lay in a few dark +ribbons across his baldish head-top. But all this +shore-decency of appearance only accentuated his +big splodgy brown hands, stained and scarred and +corned with his calling. Moreover, instead of +boots he wore a pair of gigantic heel-less slippers +in the Moorish manner, which he must have sliced +with a knife out of some pair of dead sea-boots. +Even his great spreading feet could hardly keep +them on, so that he was obliged to walk at the +slowest of shuffles, flop-flop along the deck. He +stooped, as if always afraid of banging his head on +something; and carried the backs of his hands +forward, like an orang-outang.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the men set to work methodically +but very quietly to remove the wedges that held +the battens of the hatches, getting ready to haul +up the cargo.</p> + +<p>Their leader took several turns up and down the +deck before he seemed able to make up his mind to +the interview: then lowered himself into Marpole’s +cabin, followed by his mate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span>This mate was a small man: very fair, and intelligent-looking +beside his chief. He was almost +dapper, in a quiet way, in his dress.</p> + +<p>They found Captain Marpole even now only +half awake: and the stranger stood for a moment +in silence, nervously twiddling his cap in his hands. +When he spoke at last, it was with a soft German +accent:</p> + +<p>‘Excuse me,’ he began, ‘but would you have +the goodness to lend me a few stores?’</p> + +<p>Captain Marpole stared in astonishment, first at +him and then at the much be-painted faces of the +‘ladies’ pressed against his cabin skylight.</p> + +<p>‘Who the devil are you?’ he contrived to ask +at last.</p> + +<p>‘I hold a commission in the Columbian navy,’ +the stranger explained: ‘and I am in need of a +few stores.’</p> + +<p>(Meanwhile his men had the hatches off, and +were preparing to help themselves to everything +in the ship.)</p> + +<p>Marpole looked him up and down. It was +barely conceivable that even the Columbian navy +should have such a figure of an officer. Then his +eye wandered back to the skylight:</p> + +<p>‘If you call yourself a man-of-war, sir, who in +Heaven’s name are <i>those</i>?’ As he pointed, the +smirking faces hastily retreated.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>The stranger blushed.</p> + +<p>‘They are rather difficult to explain,’ he admitted +ingenuously.</p> + +<p>‘If you had said <i>Turkish</i> navy, that would have +been more reasonable-sounding!’ said Marpole.</p> + +<p>But the stranger did not seem to take the joke. +He stood, silent, in a characteristic attitude: rocking +himself from foot to foot, and rubbing his +cheek on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Marpole’s ear caught the muffled +racketing forward. Almost at the same time a +bump that shivered the whole barque told that the +schooner had been laid alongside.</p> + +<p>‘What’s that?’ he exclaimed. ‘Is there some +one in my hold?’</p> + +<p>‘Stores ...’ mumbled the stranger.</p> + +<p>Marpole up to now had lain growling in his +bunk like a dog in its kennel. Now for the first +time realising that something serious was afoot he +flung himself out and made for the companion-way. +The little silent fair man tripped him up, +and he fell against the table.</p> + +<p>‘You had much better stay here, yes?’ said +the big man. ‘My fellows shall keep a tally, +you shall be paid in full for everything we +take.’</p> + +<p>The eyes of the marine coal-merchant gleamed +momentarily:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>‘You’ll have to pay for this outrage to a pretty +tune!’ he growled.</p> + +<p>‘I will pay you,’ said the stranger, with a sudden +magnificence in his voice, ‘at the very least five +thousand pounds!’</p> + +<p>Marpole stared in astonishment.</p> + +<p>‘I will write you an order on the Columbian +government for that amount,’ the other went on.</p> + +<p>Marpole thumped the table, almost speechless:</p> + +<p>‘D’you think I believe that cock-and-bull +story?’ he thundered.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonsen made no protest.</p> + +<p>‘Do you realise that you are technically guilty +of <i>piracy</i>, making a forced requisition on a British +ship like this, even if you pay every farthing?’</p> + +<p>Still Jonsen made no reply: though the bored +expression of his mate was lit up for a moment by +a smile.</p> + +<p>‘You’ll pay me in <i>cash</i>!’ Marpole concluded. +Then he went off on a fresh tack: ‘Though how +the devil you got on board without being called +beats me!—Where’s my mate?’</p> + +<p>Jonsen began in a toneless voice, as if by rote: +‘I will write you an order for five thousand +pounds: three thousand for the stores, and two +thousand you will give me in money.’</p> + +<p>‘We know you’ve got specie on board,’ interjected +the little fair mate, speaking for the first time.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>‘Our information is certain!’ declared Jonsen.</p> + +<p>Marpole at last went white and began to sweat. +It took even Fear an extraordinarily long time to +penetrate his thick skull. But he denied that he +had any treasure on board.</p> + +<p>‘Is that your answer?’ said Jonsen. He drew +a heavy pistol from his side pocket. ‘If you do not +tell us the truth, your life shall pay the forfeit.’ +His voice was peculiarly gentle, and mechanical, +as if he did not attach much meaning to what he +said. ‘Do not expect mercy, for this is my profession, +and in it I am inured to blood.’</p> + +<p>A frightful squawking from the deck above told +Marpole that his chickens were being moved to +new quarters.</p> + +<p>In an agony of feeling Marpole told him that he +had a wife and children, who would be left destitute +if his life was taken.</p> + +<p>Jonsen, with rather a perplexed look on his face, +put the gun back in his pocket, and the two of +them began to search for themselves, at the same +time stripping the saloon and cabins of everything +they contained: firearms, wearing apparel, the +bedclothes, and even (as Marpole with a rare touch +of accuracy mentioned in his report) the bell-pulls.</p> + +<p>Overhead there was a continuous bumping: +the rolling of casks, cases, etc.</p> + +<p>‘Remember,’ Jonsen went on over his shoulder<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span> +while he searched, ‘money cannot recall life, nor +in the least avail you when you are dead. If you +regard your life in the least, at once acquaint me +with the hiding-place, and your life shall be safe.’</p> + +<p>Marpole’s only reply was again to invoke the +thought of his wife and children (he was, as a +matter of fact, a widower: and his only relative, +a niece, would be the better off by his death to the +tune of some ten thousand pounds).</p> + +<p>But this reiteration seemed to give the mate an +idea: and he began to talk to his chief rapidly in a +language Marpole had never even heard. For a +moment a curious glint came into Jonsen’s eye: +but soon he was chuckling in the sentimentalest +manner, and rubbing his hands.</p> + +<p>The mate went on deck to prepare things.</p> + +<p>Marpole had no inkling of what was afoot. +The mate went on deck to prepare his plan, whatever +it was: and Jonsen busied himself with a last +futile search for the hiding-place, in silence.</p> + +<p>Presently the mate shouted down to him, and +he ordered Marpole on deck.</p> + +<p>Poor Marpole groaned. Unloading cargo is inclined +to be a messy business anyway: but these +visitors had been none too careful. There is no +smell in the world worse than when molasses and +bilge-water marry: now it was let loose like ten +thousand devils. His heart was almost broken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span> +when he saw the havoc that had been made with +the cargo: broken cases, casks, bottles, all about +the deck: everything in the greatest confusion: +tarpaulins cut to pieces: hatches broken.</p> + +<p>From the deck-house came the piercing voice +of Laura:</p> + +<p>‘<i>I want to come out!</i>’</p> + +<p>The Spanish ladies seemed to have returned to +the schooner. His own men were shut up in the +fo’c’sle. It was obvious where all the children +were, for Laura was not the only vociferator. But +the only persons to be seen were six members of +the visiting crew, who stood in a line, facing the +deck-house, a musket apiece.</p> + +<p>It was the little mate who now took charge of +the situation:</p> + +<p>‘Where is your specie hid, Captain?’</p> + +<p>The musketeers having their backs to him, ‘Go +to the Devil!’ replied Marpole.</p> + +<p>A startling volley rang out: six neat holes were +punctured in the top of the deck-house.</p> + +<p>‘Hi! Steady there, what are you doing?’ +John cried out indignantly from within.</p> + +<p>‘If you refuse to tell us, next time their aim will +be a foot lower.’</p> + +<p>‘You fiends!’ cried Marpole.</p> + +<p>‘Will you tell me?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>No!</i>’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>‘<i>Fire!</i>’</p> + +<p>The second row of holes can only have missed +the taller children by a few inches.</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s silence: then a sudden +wild shriek from within the deck-house. It was +so terrified a sound not their own mothers could +have told which throat it came from. One only, +though.</p> + +<p>The stranger-captain had been slouching about +in an agitated way: but at that shriek he turned on +Marpole, his face purple with a sudden fury:</p> + +<p>‘<i>Now</i> will you say?’</p> + +<p>But Marpole was now completely master of +himself. He did not hesitate:</p> + +<p>‘NO!’</p> + +<p>‘Next time he gives the order it will be to shoot +right through their little bodies!’</p> + +<p>So that was what Marpole had meant in his +letter by ‘<i>every possible threat which villainy could +devise</i>’! But even by this he was not to be +daunted:</p> + +<p>‘No, I tell you!’</p> + +<p>Heroic obstinacy! But instead of giving the +fatal order, Jonsen lifted a paw like a bear’s, and +banged Marpole’s jaw with it. The latter fell to +the deck, stunned.</p> + +<p>It was then they took the children out of the +deck-house.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>They were not really much frightened; except +Margaret, who did seem to be taking it all to heart +rather. Being shot at is so unlike what one expects +it to be that one can hardly connect the two +ideas enough to have the appropriate emotions, +the first few times. It is not half so startling as +some one jumping out on you with a ‘<i>Boo!</i>’ in the +dark, for instance. The boys were crying a little: +the girls were hot and cross and hungry.</p> + +<p>‘What were you doing?’ Rachel asked brightly +of one of the firing-party.</p> + +<p>But only the captain and the mate could speak +English. The latter, ignoring Rachel’s question, +explained that they were all to go on board the +schooner—‘to have some supper,’ he said.</p> + +<p>He had all a sailor’s reassuring charm of manner. +So under the charge of two Spanish seamen they +were helped over the bulwarks onto the smaller +vessel, which was just casting off.</p> + +<p>There the strange sailors broke open a whole +case of crystallised fruits, on which they might turn +the edge of their long appetites as much as they +would.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>When poor stunned Captain Marpole came to +his senses, it was to find himself tied to the mainmast. +Several handfuls of shavings and splintered +wood were piled round his feet, and Jonsen was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> +sprinkling them plentifully with gun-powder—though +not perhaps enough, it is true, to ‘blow +up the ship and all in it.’</p> + +<p>The small fair mate stood at hand in the gathering +dusk with a lighted torch, ready to fire the +pyre.</p> + +<p>What could a man do in such straits? At that +dreadful moment the gallant old fellow had to +admit that he was beaten at last. He told them +where his freight-money—some £900—was hidden: +and they let him go.</p> + +<p>Just as the darkness closed in, the last of the +pirates returned to their ship. Not a sound was +to be heard of the children: but Marpole guessed +that they had been taken there too.</p> + +<p>Before releasing his crew he lit a lantern and +began a sort of inventory of what was gone. It +was heart-breaking enough: besides the cargo, all +his spare sails, cordage, provisions, guns, paint, +powder: all his wearing apparel, and that of his +mate: all nautical instruments gone, cabin stores—the +saloon in fact gutted of everything, not even +a knife or spoon left, tea or sugar, nor a second +shirt to his back left. Only the children’s luggage +was left untouched: and the turtles. Their melancholy +sighing was the sole sound to be heard.</p> + +<p>But it was almost as heart-breaking to see what +the pirates had <i>left</i>: anything damaged, such worn-out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span> +and useless gear as he had been only waiting +for some ‘storm’ to wash overboard—not one of +these eyesores was missing.</p> + +<p>What, in Heaven’s name, was the use of an +insurance policy? He began to collect the rubbish +himself and dump it over the side.</p> + +<p>But Captain Jonsen saw him:</p> + +<p>‘Hi!’ he shouted: ‘You dirty svindler! I +will write to Lloyds and expose you! I will write +myself!’ He was horribly shocked at the other’s +dishonesty.</p> + +<p>So Marpole had to give it up, for the time at +any rate: took a spike and broke open the fo’c’sle: +and as well as the sailors found Margaret’s brown +nurse. She had hidden there the whole day: +probably from motives of fright.</p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>You would have thought that supper on the +schooner that night would have been a hilarious +affair. But, somehow, it was <i>manqué</i>.</p> + +<p>A prize of such value had naturally put the crew +in the best of humours: and a meal which consisted +mainly of crystallised fruit, followed as an +afterthought by bread and chopped onions served +in one enormous communal bowl, eaten on the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span> +open deck under the stars, after bed-time, should +have done the same by the children. But nevertheless +both parties were seized by a sudden, overpowering, +and most unexpected fit of shyness. +Consequently no state banquet was ever so formal, +or so boring.</p> + +<p>I suppose it was the lack of a common language +which first generated the infection. The Spanish +sailors, used enough to this difficulty, grinned, +pointed, and bobbed: but the children retired +into a display of good manners which it would +certainly have surprised their parents to see. +Whereon the sailors became equally formal: and +one poor monkeyfied little fellow who by nature +belched continually was so be-nudged and be-winked +by his companions, and so covered in confusion +of his own accord, that presently he went +away to eat by himself. Even then, so silent was +this revel, he could still be heard faintly belching, +half the ship’s length away.</p> + +<p>Perhaps it would have gone better if the captain +and mate had been there, with their English. But +they were too busy, looking over the personal belongings +they had brought from the barque, sorting +out by the light of a lantern anything too +easily identifiable and reluctantly committing it to +the sea.</p> + +<p>It was at the loud splashes made by a couple of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> +empty trunks, stamped in large letters <span class="allsmcap">JAS. MARPOLE</span>, +that a roar of unassumed indignation arose +from the neighbouring barque. The two paused +in their work, astonished: why should a crew +already spoiled of all they possessed take it so +hardly when one heaved a couple of old worthless +trunks in the sea?</p> + +<p>It was inexplicable.</p> + +<p>They continued their task, taking no further +notice of the <i>Clorinda</i>.</p> + +<p>Once supper was over, the social situation became +even more awkward. The children stood +about, not knowing what to do with their hands, +or even their legs: unable to talk to their hosts, +and feeling it would be rude to talk to each other, +wishing badly that it was time to leave. If only it +had been light they could have been happy enough +exploring: but in the darkness there was nothing +to do, nothing whatever.</p> + +<p>The sailors soon found occupations of their +own: and the captain and mate, as I have said, +were already busy.</p> + +<p>Once the sorting was over, however, there was +nothing for Jonsen to do except return the children +to the barque, and get well clear while the +breeze and the darkness lasted.</p> + +<p>But on hearing those splashes, Marpole’s lively +imagination had interpreted them in his own way.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span> +They suggested that there was now no reason to +wait: indeed, every reason to be gone.</p> + +<p>I think he was quite honestly misled.</p> + +<p>It was after all but a small slip to say he had ‘seen +with his own eyes’ what he had heard with his +own ears: and the intention was pious.</p> + +<p>He set his men feverishly to work: and when +Captain Jonsen looked his way again, the <i>Clorinda</i>, +with every stitch spread in the starlight, was already +half a mile to leeward.</p> + +<p>To pursue her, right in the track of shipping, +was out of the question. Jonsen had to content +himself with staring after her through his night-glass.</p> + +<h3>iv</h3> + +<p>Captain Jonsen set the little monkeyfied sailor, +who had been so mortified earlier in the evening, +to clear the schooner’s fore-hold. The warps and +brooms and fenders it contained were all piled to +one side, and a sufficiency of bedclothes for the +guests was provided from the plunder.</p> + +<p>But nothing could now thaw them. They +clambered down the ladder and received their +blanket apiece in an uncomfortable silence. Jonsen +hung about, anxious to be helpful in this +matter of getting into beds which were not there, +but not knowing how to set about it. So he gave<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span> +it up at last, and swung himself up through the +fore-hatch, talking to himself.</p> + +<p>The last they saw of him was his fantastic slippers, +hanging each from a big toe, outlined against +the stars: but it never entered their heads to laugh.</p> + +<p>Once, however, the familiar comfort of a +blanket under their chins had begun to have its +effect, and they were obviously quite alone, a little +life did begin to return into these dumb statues.</p> + +<p>The darkness was profound, only accentuated +by the starlit square of the open hatchway. First +the long silence was broken by some one turning +over, almost freely. Then presently:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura</span> (<i>in slow sepulchral tones</i>). I don’t like +this bed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rachel</span> (<i>ditto</i>). I do.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura.</span> It’s a horrid bed; there isn’t any!</p> + +<table> +<tr><td><span class="smcap">Emily.</span></td><td rowspan="2"><span class="xxxlarge">}</span></td><td rowspan="2">Sh! Go to sleep!</td></tr> + +<tr><td><span class="smcap">John.</span></td></tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="smcap">Edward.</span> I smell cockroaches.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily.</span> Sh!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Edward</span> (<i>loudly and hopefully</i>). They’ll bite all +our nails off, because we haven’t washed, and our +skin, and our hair, and——</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura.</span> There’s a cockroach in my bed! Get +out!</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>You could hear the brute go zooming away. +But Laura was already out too.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span><span class="smcap">Emily.</span> Laura! Go back to bed!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura.</span> I can’t when there’s a cockroach in it!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> Get into bed again, you little fool! +He’s gone long ago!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura.</span> But I expect he has left his wife.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> They don’t have wives, they’re wives +themselves.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rachel.</span> Ow!—Laura, stop it!—Emily, +Laura’s walking on me!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily.</span> Lau-<span class="allsmcap">RER</span>!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura.</span> Well, I must walk on something!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily.</span> Go to sleep!</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>Silence for a while.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Laura.</span> I haven’t said my prayers.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily.</span> Well, say them lying down.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rachel.</span> She mustn’t, that’s lazy.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> Shut up, Rachel, she must.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rachel.</span> It’s wicked! You go to sleep in the +middle then. People who go to sleep in the middle +ought to be damned, they ought.—Oughtn’t they? +(<i>Silence.</i>) Oughtn’t they? (<i>Still silence.</i>) Emily, +I say, oughtn’t they?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> NO!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rachel</span> (<i>dreamily</i>). I think there’s lots more +people ought to be damned than are.</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>Silence again.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> Marghie.</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>Silence.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>Marghie!</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>Silence.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> What’s up with Marghie? Won’t she +speak?</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>A faint sob is heard.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> I don’t know.</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>Another sob.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> Is she often like this?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> She’s an awful ass sometimes.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> Marghie, what’s up?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> (<i>miserably</i>). Let me alone!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Rachel.</span> I believe she’s frightened! (<i>Chants +tauntingly</i>) Marghie’s got the bogies, the bogies, +the bogies!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> (<i>sobbing out loud</i>). <i>Oh</i> you little +fools!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> Well, what’s the matter with you then?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> (<i>after a pause</i>). I’m older than any +of you.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> Well, <i>that’s</i> a funny reason to be +frightened!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret.</span> It isn’t.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> It is!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> (<i>warming to the argument</i>). It isn’t, I +tell you!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> <i>It is!</i></p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Margaret</span> (<i>smugly</i>). That’s simply because +you’re all too young to know....</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span><span class="smcap">John.</span> Oh, hit her, Emily!</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily</span> (<i>sleepily</i>). Hit her yourself.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> But, Marghie, why are we here?</p> + +<div class="blockquot2"> + +<p>(<i>No answer.</i>)</p> +</div> + +<p>Emily, why are we here?</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily</span> (<i>indifferently</i>). I don’t know. I expect +they just wanted to change us.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> I expect so. But they never <i>told</i> us +we were going to be changed.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">Emily.</span> Grown-ups never <i>do</i> tell us things.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 4</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE children all slept late, and all woke at +the same moment as if by clockwork. +They sat up, and yawned uniformly, and +stretched the stiffness out of their legs and backs +(they were lying on solid wood, remember).</p> + +<p>The schooner was steady, and people tramping +about the deck. The main-hold and fore-hold +were all one: and from where they were they +could see the main-hatch had been opened. The +captain appeared through it legs first, and dropped +onto the higgledy-piggledy of the <i>Clorinda’s</i> +cargo.</p> + +<p>For some time they simply stared at him. He +looked uneasy, and was talking to himself as he +tapped now this case with his pencil, now that; +and presently shouted rather fiercely to people +on deck.</p> + +<p>‘All right, all right,’ came from above the injured +voice of the mate. ‘There’s no such hurry +as all that.’</p> + +<p>On which the captain’s mutterings to himself +swelled, as if ten people were conversing at once +in his chest.</p> + +<p>‘May we get up yet?’ asked Rachel.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>Captain Jonsen spun round—he had forgotten +their existence.</p> + +<p>‘Eh?’</p> + +<p>‘May we get up, please?’</p> + +<p>‘You can go to the debble.’ He muttered this +so low the children did not hear it. But it was not +lost on the mate.</p> + +<p>‘Hey! Ey! Ey!’ he called down, reprovingly.</p> + +<p>‘Yes! Get up! Go on deck! Here!’ The +captain viciously set up a short ladder for them to +climb through the hatch.</p> + +<p>They were greatly astonished to find the +schooner was no longer at sea. Instead, she was +snugly moored against a little wooden wharf, in a +pleasant land-locked bay; with a pleasant but untidy +village, of white wooden houses with palm-leaf +roofs, behind it; and the tower of a small +sandstone church emerging from the abundant +greenery. On the quay were a few well-dressed +loungers, watching the preparations for unloading. +The mate was directing the labours of the crew, +who were rigging the cargo-gaff and getting ready +for a hot morning’s work.</p> + +<p>The mate nodded cheerfully to the children, but +thereafter took no notice of them, which was +rather mortifying. The truth is that the man +was busy.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>At the same time there emerged from somewhere +aft a collection of the oddest-looking young +men. Margaret decided she had never seen such +beautiful young men before. They were slim, yet +nicely rounded: and dressed in exquisite clothes +(if a trifle threadbare). But their faces! Those +beautiful olive-tinted ovals! Those large, black-ringed, +soft brown eyes, those unnaturally carmine +lips! They minced across the deck, chattering to +each other in high-pitched tones, ‘twittering like +a cage of linnets ...’ and made their way on shore.</p> + +<p>‘Who are they?’ Emily asked the captain, who +had just re-emerged from below.</p> + +<p>‘Who are who?’ he murmured absently, without +looking round. ‘Oh, those? Fairies.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Hey! Yey! Yey!</i>’ cried the mate, more +disapprovingly than ever.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Fairies?</i>’ cried Emily in astonishment.</p> + +<p>But Captain Jonsen began to blush. He went +crimson from the nape of his neck to the bald +patches on the top of his head, and left.</p> + +<p>‘He is <i>silly</i>!’ said Emily.</p> + +<p>‘I wonder if we go onto the land yet,’ said +Edward.</p> + +<p>‘We’d better wait until we’re told, hadn’t we, +Emily?’ said Harry.</p> + +<p>‘I didn’t know England would be like this,’ +said Rachel: ‘it’s very like Jamaica.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>‘This isn’t England,’ said John, ‘you stupid!’</p> + +<p>‘But it must be,’ said Rachel: ‘England’s +where we’re going.’</p> + +<p>‘We don’t get to England yet,’ said John: ‘it +must be somewhere we’re stopping at, like when +we got all those turtles.’</p> + +<p>‘I like stopping at places,’ said Laura.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t,’ said Rachel.</p> + +<p>‘I do, though,’ pursued Laura.</p> + +<p>‘Where are those young men gone?’ Margaret +asked the mate. ‘Are they coming back?’</p> + +<p>‘They’ll just come back to be paid, after we’ve +sold the cargo,’ he answered.</p> + +<p>‘Then they’re not living on the ship?’ she +pursued.</p> + +<p>‘No, we hired them from Havana.’</p> + +<p>‘But what for?’</p> + +<p>He looked at her in surprise: ‘Why, those are +the “ladies” we had on board, to look like +passengers—You didn’t think they were real +ladies, did you?’</p> + +<p>‘What, were they dressed up?’ asked Emily +excitedly: ‘What fun!’</p> + +<p>‘I like dressing up,’ said Laura.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t,’ said Rachel, ‘I think it’s babyish.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>I</i> thought they were real ladies,’ admitted +Emily.</p> + +<p>‘We’re a respectable ship’s crew, we are,’ said<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span> +the mate, a trifle stiffly—and without too good +logic, when you come to think of it. ‘Here, you +go on shore and amuse yourselves.’</p> + +<p>So the children went ashore, holding hands in a +long row, and promenaded the town in a formal +sort of way. Laura wanted to go off by herself, +but the others would not let her: and when they +returned, the line was still unbroken. They had +seen all there was to see, and no one had taken the +least notice of them (so far as they were aware), +and they wanted to start asking questions again.</p> + +<p>It was, then, a charming little sleepy old place, +in its way, this Santa Lucia: isolated on the forgotten +western end of Cuba between Nombre de +Dios and the Rio de Puercos: cut off from the +open sea by the intricate nature of the channels +through the reefs and the Banks of Isabella, +channels only navigable to the practised and creeping +local coasting craft and shunned like poison +by bigger traffic: on land isolated by a hundred +miles of forest from Havana.</p> + +<p>Time was, these little ports of the Canal de +Guaniguanico had been pretty prosperous, as bases +for pirates: but it was a fleeting prosperity. +There came the heroic attack of an American +squadron under Captain Allen, in 1823, on the +Bay of Sejuapo, their headquarters. From that +blow (although it took many years to take full<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span> +effect) the industry never really recovered: it +dwindled and dwindled, like hand-weaving. One +could make money much faster in a city like +Havana, and with less risk (if less respectably). +Piracy had long since ceased to pay, and should +have been scrapped years ago: but a vocational +tradition will last on a long time after it has ceased +to be economic, in a decadent form. Now, Santa +Lucia—and piracy—continued to exist because +they always had: but for no other reason. Such +a haul as the <i>Clorinda</i> did not come once in a blue +moon. Every year the amount of land under +cultivation dwindled, and the pirate schooners +were abandoned to rot against the wharves or +ignominiously sold as traders. The young men +left for Havana or the United States. The maidens +yawned. The local grandees increased in dignity +as their numbers and property dwindled: an +idyllic, simple-minded country community, oblivious +of the outer world and of its own approaching +oblivion.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t think I should like to live here,’ John +decided, when they got back to the ship.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the cargo had been unloaded onto +the quay: and after the siesta a crowd of about a +hundred people gathered round, poking and discussing. +The auction was about to begin. Captain +Jonsen tramped about rather in the way of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> +everybody, but especially annoying the mate by +shouting contrary directions every minute. The +latter had a ledger, and a number of labels with +numbers on them which he was pasting onto the +various bales and packages. The sailors were +building a kind of temporary stage—the thing was +to be done in style.</p> + +<p>Every moment the crowd increased. Because +they all talked Spanish it was a pantomime to the +children: like puppets acting, not like real people +moving and talking. So they discovered what a +fascinating game it is to watch foreigners, whose +very simplest words mean nothing to you, and try +to guess what they are about.</p> + +<p>Moreover, these were all such funny-looking +people: they moved about as if they were kings, +and spat all the time, and smoked thin black cigars, +the blue smoke of which ascended from their +enormous hats as from censers.</p> + +<p>At one moment there was a diversion—the +crowd suddenly gaped, and there staggered onto +the stage the whole crew of the schooner carrying +a huge pair of scales: it was always on the point +of being too much for them, and running suddenly +away with them in another direction.</p> + +<p>There were quite a number of ladies in the +crowd—old ones, they seemed to the children. +Some were thin and dried up, like monkeys: but<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span> +most were fat, and one was fatter than all of them +and treated with the greatest respect (perhaps for +her moustache). She was the wife of the Chief +Magistrate—Señora del Illustrious Juzgado del +Municipal de Santa Lucia, to give her her title. +She had a rocking-chair of suitable strength and +width, which was carried by a short squinting +negro and set in the very middle of the scene, +right in front of the platform. There she throned +herself: and the negro stood behind her, holding +a violet silk sunshade over her head.</p> + +<p>No one can doubt that she immediately became +the most noticeable thing in the picture.</p> + +<p>She had a powerful bass voice, and when she +uttered some jocundity (as she repeatedly did), +every one heard it, however much they were +chattering among themselves.</p> + +<p>The children, as was their custom, wormed their +way without any excess of civility through the +crowd and grouped themselves round her throne.</p> + +<p>The captain either did not know, or suddenly +refused to know, a single word of Spanish: so the +auctioneering devolved on the mate. The latter +mounted the stage: and with a great assumption +of competence began.</p> + +<p>But auctioneering is an art: it is as easy to write +a sonnet in a foreign tongue as to conduct a successful +auction. One must have at one’s command<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span> +eloquence without a hitch: the faculty of +kindling an audience, amusing them, castigating +them, converting them, till they rattle out increments +as a camp-meeting rattles out Amens: till +they totally forget the worth (and even the nature) +of the lot, and begin to take a real pride in a long +run of bidding—as a champion does in a long +break at billiards.</p> + +<p>This little Viennese had been to a good school, +it is true: for he had once resided in Wales, where +one sees auctioneering in its finest flower. In +Welsh, or English, or even in his native tongue, +he could have acquitted himself fairly well: but in +Spanish, just that margin of power was lacking to +him. The audience remained stern, cold, critical, +bidding grudgingly.</p> + +<p>As if this language difficulty were not in itself +enough, there sat that overpowering old dame on +her throne, distracting with her jokes whatever +vestige of attention he might otherwise have +managed to arouse.</p> + +<p>When the third lot of coffee came to be dealt +with, there was even the beginning of a rather +nasty row. The children were highly scandalised: +they had never seen grown-ups being rude to one +another before. The captain had undertaken the +weighing: and it was something to do with a +habit he had of leaning against the scales while he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span> +read them. Being short-sighted, he could see the +figures much more clearly like that: but it displeased +the buyers, and they had a lot to say +about it.</p> + +<p>The captain, mortified, wrung his hands, and +began to answer them in Danish. They rejoined +in Spanish even more stingingly. He stumped +off in a sulk: they could all conduct his affairs +without him, if they weren’t prepared to treat +him with a little consideration.</p> + +<p>But who would be less partial? The mate, +angry, maintained that to elect one of the buyers +was equally objectionable.</p> + +<p>Thereon an earthquake began in the fat old lady, +and gradually gathered enough force to lift her +onto her feet. She took John by the shoulders, +and pushed him before her to the scales. Then +in a few witty, ringing words she suggested her +solution—<i>he</i> should do the weighing.</p> + +<p>The audience were pleased: but as soon as +John understood he went very red, and wanted to +escape. The rest of the children, on the other +hand, were eaten with envy.</p> + +<p>‘Mayn’t I help too?’ piped Rachel.</p> + +<p>The despairing mate thought he saw just a forlorn +hope in this. While John was being instructed, +he gathered the other children: and out +of the heap of miscellaneous clothing rigged them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span> +all out in a sort of fancy dress. Then he gave +them the samples to carry round, and the sale +began anew.</p> + +<p>It had now assumed rather the character of a +parochial bazaar. Even the Vicar was present—though +less well shaved than he would have been +in England, and cunninger-looking. He was one +of the only buyers.</p> + +<p>The children thoroughly enjoyed themselves, +and minced and pranced and tugged each other’s +turbans. But the crowd was a Latin one, not +Nordic: and their endearing tricks failed altogether +to arouse any interest. The sale went +worse than ever.</p> + +<p>There was only one exception, and that was the +important old lady. Once her attention had been +called (by her own act) to the children, it fixed +itself on one of them, on Edward. She drew him +to her bosom, like a mother in melodrama, and +with her hairy mouth gave him three resounding +kisses.</p> + +<p>Edward could no more have struggled than if +caught by a boa. Moreover, the portentous +woman fascinated him, as if she had been a boa +indeed. He lay in her arms limp, self-conscious, +and dejected: but without active thought of +escape.</p> + +<p>And so the business went on: on the one hand<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> +the unheeded drone of the mate, on the other the +great creature still keeping up her witticisms, still +dominating everything: all of a sudden remembering +Edward, and giving him a couple of kisses +like so many bombs: then clean forgetting all +about him: then remembering him again, and +hugging him: then dropping her salts: then +nearly dropping Edward: then suddenly twisting +round to launch a dart into the crowd behind her—she +was the despair of that unhappy auctioneer, +who saw lot after lot fall for a tenth of its value, +or even find no bidder at all.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonsen, however, had his own idea of +how to enliven a parochial bazaar that is proving +a frost. He went on board, and mixed several +gallons of that potion known in alcoholic circles +as Hangman’s Blood (which is compounded of +rum, gin, brandy, and porter). Innocent (merely +beery) as it looks, refreshing as it tastes, it has the +property of increasing rather than allaying thirst, +and so, once it has made a breach, soon demolishes +the whole fort.</p> + +<p>This he poured out into mugs, merely remarking +that it was a noted English cordial, and gave it +to the children to distribute among the crowd.</p> + +<p>At once the Cubans began to show more interest +in them than when they came bearing samples of +arrowroot: and with their popularity their happiness<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span> +increased, and like rococo Ganymedekins and +Hebelettes they darted about the crowd, distributing +the enticing poison to all who would.</p> + +<p>When he saw what was on foot, the mate wiped +his mouth in despair.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Oh</i> you fool!’ he groaned.</p> + +<p>But the captain himself was highly pleased with +his ruse: kept rubbing his hands, and grinning, +and winking.</p> + +<p>‘That’ll liven ’em, eh?’</p> + +<p>‘Wait and see!’ was all the mate let himself +say. ‘You just wait and see!’</p> + +<p>‘Look at Edward!’ said Emily to Margaret +in a pause. ‘It’s perfectly sickening!’</p> + +<p>It was. The very first mug rendered the fat +señora even more motherly. Edward by now +was fascinated, was in her power completely. He +sat and gazed up in her little black eyes, his own +large brown ones glazed with sentiment. He +avoided her moustache, it is true: but on her +cheek he was returning her kisses earnestly. All +this, of course, without the possibility of their +exchanging a single word—pure instinct. ‘With +a fork drive Nature out ...’ one would gladly +have taken a fork to Nature, on that occasion.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, on the rest of the crowd the liquor +was having exactly the effect the mate had foreseen. +Instead of stimulating them, it dissolved completely<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> +whatever vestiges of attention they were +still giving to the sale. He stepped down from +the platform—gave it all up in despair. For they +had now broken up into little groups, which discussed +and argued their own affairs as if they were +in a café. He in his turn went on board, and shut +himself in his cabin—Captain Jonsen could deal +with the mess he had made himself!</p> + +<p>But alas! No worse host than Jonsen was ever +born: he was utterly incapable of either understanding +or controlling a crowd. All he could +think of doing was plying them with more.</p> + +<p>For the children the spectacle was an absorbing +one. The whole nature of these people, as they +drank, seemed to be changing: under their very +eyes something seemed to be breaking up, like +ice melting. Remember that to them this was a +pantomime: no word spoken to explain, and so +the eyes exercised a peculiar clearness.</p> + +<p>It was rather as if the whole crowd had been +immersed in water, and something dissolved out +of them while the general structure yet remained. +The tone of their voices changed, and they began +to talk much slower, to move more slowly and +elaborately. The expression of their faces became +more candid, and yet more mask-like: hiding less, +there was also less to hide. Two men even began +to fight: but they fought so incompetently it was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span> +like a fight in a poetic play. Conversation, which +before had a beginning and an end, now grew +shapeless and interminable, and the women +laughed a lot.</p> + +<p>One old gentleman in most respectable clothes +settled himself on the dirty ground at full length, +with his head in the shade of the throned lady, +spread a handkerchief over his face, and went to +sleep: three other middle-aged men, holding +each other with one hand to establish contact and +using the other for emphasis, kept up a continuous +clacking talk, that faltered intolerably +though never quite stopping—like a very old +engine.</p> + +<p>A dog ran in and out among them all wagging +its tail, but no one kicked it. Presently it found +the old gentleman who was asleep on the ground, +and began licking his ear excitedly: it had never +had such a chance before.</p> + +<p>The old lady also had fallen asleep, a little crookedly—she +might even have slipped off her chair if +her negro had not buttressed her up. Edward +got off her, and went and joined the other children +rather shamefacedly: but they would not speak +to him.</p> + +<p>Jonsen looked round him perplexedly. Why +had Otto abandoned the sale, now the crowd were +all primed and ready? Probably he had some<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span> +good reason, though. He was an incomprehensible +man, that mate: but clever.</p> + +<p>The truth is that Captain Jonsen was himself a +man with a very weak head for liquor, and so he +very seldom touched it, and knew little of the +subtler aspects of its effects.</p> + +<p>He paced up and down the dusty wharf at his +usual slow shuffle, his head sunk forward in +wretchedness, occasionally wringing his hands in +the naturalest way, and even whimpering. When +the priest came up to him confidentially and +offered him a price for all that remained unsold +he simply shook his head and continued his +shuffle.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There was something a little nightmare-like in +the whole scene which riveted the children’s +attention, and was very near the border of frightening +them. It was with something of a struggle +that at last Margaret said ‘Let’s go on the ship.’ +So they all went on board: and feeling a little unprotected +even there, descended into the hold, +which was the safest place because they had already +slept in it. They sat down on the kelson without +doing or saying much, still with a vague apprehension, +till boredom at last eliminated it.</p> + +<p>‘Oh I <i>wish</i> I had brought my paint-box!’ said +Emily, with a sigh fetched right up from her boots.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>That night, after they had all gone to bed, they +saw in a half-asleep state a lantern bobbing up and +down in the open hatch. It was held by José, the +little monkeyfied one (they had already decided he +was the nicest of the crew). He was grinning +winningly, and beckoning to them.</p> + +<p>Emily was too sleepy to move, and so were +Laura and Rachel: so leaving them to lie, the +others—Margaret, Edward, and John—scrambled +on deck.</p> + +<p>It was mysteriously quiet. Not a sign of the +crew, but for José. In the bright starlight the +town looked unnormally beautiful: there was +music coming from one of the big houses up by +the church. José conducted them ashore and up +to this house: tiptoed up to the jalousies and +signed to them to follow him.</p> + +<p>As the light struck his face it became transfigured, +so affected was he by the opulence +within.</p> + +<p>The children craned up to the level of the +windows and peered in too, oblivious of the +mosquitoes making havoc of their necks.</p> + +<p>It was a very grand sight. This was the house +of the Chief Magistrate: and he was giving a +dinner in honour of Captain Jonsen and his mate.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> +There he sat at the head of the table, in uniform; +very stiff, yet his little beard even stiffer than himself. +His was the kind of dignity that grows from +reserve and stillness, from freezing every minute +like game which scents the hunter: while in total +contrast to him there sat his wife (the important +señora who had made so much of Edward), far +more impressive than her husband, but doing it +not by dignity but by that calculated abandon and +vulgarity which transcends dignity. Indeed, her +flinging about got the greater part of its effect from +the very formality of her setting.</p> + +<p>When the children arrived at the window she +must even have been discussing the size of her own +belly: for she suddenly seized the shy hand of the +mate, and made him, willy-nilly, feel it, as if to +clench an argument.</p> + +<p>As for her husband, he did not seem to see her: +nor did the servants: she was such a very great +lady.</p> + +<p>But it was not her, it was the meal which raped +José’s attention. It was certainly an impressive +one. Together on the table were tomato soup, +mountain mullet, cray-fish, a huge red-snapper, +land-crabs, rice and fried chicken, a young turkey, +a small joint of goat-mutton, a wild duck, beef +steak, fried pork, a dish of wild pigeons, sweet +potatoes, yuca, wine, and guavas and cream.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>It was a meal which would take a long time.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonsen and the lady appeared to be on +excellent terms: he pressing some project on her, +and she, without the least loss of amiability, putting +it on one side. What they were talking +about, of course, the children could not hear. As +a matter of fact, it was themselves. Captain +Jonsen was trying to get the lady to discuss the +disposal of his impromptu nursery: the most +reasonable solution being plainly to leave them at +Santa Lucia, more or less in her charge. But she +was adept at eluding the importunate. It was not +till the banquet was over that he realised he had +failed to make any arrangement whatever.</p> + +<p>But long before this, before the dinner was +ended and the dance began, the children were tired +of the peep-show. So José tiptoed away with +them, down to the back streets by the dock. +Presently they came to a mysterious door at the +bottom of a staircase, with a negro standing as if +on guard. But he made no effort to stop them, +and, José leading them, they climbed several +flights to a large upper room.</p> + +<p>The air was one you could hardly push through. +The place was crowded with negroes, and a few +rather smudgy whites: among whom they recognised +most of the rest of the crew of the schooner. +At the far end was the most primitive stage you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span> +ever saw: there was a cradle on it, and a large +star swung on the end of a piece of string. There +was to be a nativity-play—rather early in the +season. While the Chief Magistrate entertained +the pirate captain and mate, the priest had got this +up in honour of the pirate crew.</p> + +<p>A nativity-play, with real cattle.</p> + +<p>The whole audience had arrived an hour early, +so as to see the entry of the cow. The children +were just in time for this.</p> + +<p>The room was in the upper part of a warehouse, +which had been built, through some freak of +vanity, in the English fashion, several stories high; +and was provided with the usual large door opening +onto nothingness, with a beam-and-tackle over +it. Many the load of gold-dust and arrowroot +which must have once been hoisted into it: now, +like most of the others at Santa Lucia, it had long +since ceased to be used.</p> + +<p>But to-day a new rope had been rove through +the block: and a broad belly-band put round the +waist of the priest’s protesting old cow.</p> + +<p>Margaret and Edward lingered timidly near the +top of the stairs; but John, putting his head down +and burrowing like a mole, was not content till he +had reached the open doorway. There he stood +looking out into the darkness: where he saw a +slowly revolving cow treading the air a yard from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span> +the sill, while at each revolution a negro reached +out to the utmost limit of balance, trying to catch +her by the tail and draw her to shore.</p> + +<p>John, in his excitement, leaned out too far. He +lost his balance and fell clear to the ground, forty +feet, right on his head.</p> + +<p>José gave a cry of alarm, sprang onto the cow’s +back, and was instantly lowered away—just as if +the cinema had already been invented. He must +have looked very comic. But what was going on +inside him the while it is difficult to know. Such +a responsibility does not often fall on an old sailor; +and he would probably feel it all the more for that +reason. As for the crowd beneath, they made no +attempt to touch the body till José had completed +his descent: they stood back and let him have a +good look at it, and shake it, and so on. But the +neck was quite plainly broken.</p> + +<p>Margaret and Edward, however, had not any +clear idea of what was going on, since they had +not actually seen John fall. So they were rather +annoyed when two of the schooner’s crew appeared +and insisted on their coming back to bed at +once. They wanted to know where John was: +but even more they wanted to know where José +was, and why they weren’t to be allowed to stay. +However they obeyed, in the impossibility of +asking questions, and started back to bed.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>Just as they were about to go on board the +schooner, they heard a huge report on their left, +like a cannon. They turned; and looking past +the quiet, silver town, with its palm-groves, to the +hills behind, they saw a large ball of fire, travelling +at a tremendous rate. It was quite close to the +ground: and not very far off either—just beyond +the Church. It left a wake of the most brilliant +blue, green, and purple blobs of light. For a +while it hovered: then it burst, and the air was +shortly charged with a strong sulphurous smell.</p> + +<p>They were all frightened, the sailors even more +than the children, and hastened on board.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>In the small hours, Edward suddenly called +Emily in his sleep. She woke up: ‘What is it?’</p> + +<p>‘It’s rather cow-catching, isn’t it?’ he asked +anxiously, his eyes tight shut.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter?’</p> + +<p>He did not answer, so she roused him—or +thought she had.</p> + +<p>‘I only wanted to see if you were a <i>real</i> Cow-catching +Zomfanelia,’ he explained in a kind voice: +and was immediately deep asleep again.</p> + +<p>In the morning they might easily have thought +the whole thing a dream—if John’s bed had not +been so puzzlingly empty.</p> + +<p>Yet, as if by some mute flash of understanding,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> +no one commented on his absence. No one questioned +Margaret, and she offered no information. +Neither then nor thereafter was his name ever +mentioned by anybody: and if you had known +the children intimately you would never have +guessed from <i>them</i> that he had ever existed.</p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>The children’s only enemy on board the schooner +(which presently put to sea again, with them still +on board) was the big white pig. (There was a +little black fellow, too.)</p> + +<p>He was a pig with no decision of mind. He +could never choose a place to lie for himself; but +was so ready to follow any one else’s opinion, that +whatever position you took up he immediately +recognised as the best, the only site: and came +and routed you out of it. Seeing how rare shady +patches of deck are in a calm, or dry patches in +a stiff breeze, this was a most infernal nuisance. +One is so defenceless against big pigs when lying +on one’s back.</p> + +<p>The little black one could be a nuisance also, it +is true—but that was only from excess of friendliness. +He hated to be left out of any party: nay +more, he hated lying on inanimate matter if a +living couch was to be found.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>On the north beach of Cape San Antonio it is +possible to land a boat, if you pick your spot. +About fifty yards through the bushes there are a +couple of acres of open ground: cross this, and +among some sharp coral rocks in the scrub on the +far side are two wells, the northernmost the better +of the two.</p> + +<p>So, being becalmed off the Mangrove Keys +one morning, Jonsen sent a boat on shore to get +water.</p> + +<p>The heat was extreme. The ropes hung like +dead snakes, the sails as heavy as ill-sculptured +drapery. The iron stanchion of the awning blistered +any hand that touched it. Where the deck +was unsheltered, the pitch boiled out of the seams. +The children lay gasping together in the small +shade, the little black pig squealing anxiously till +he found a comfortable stomach to settle down on.</p> + +<p>The big white pig had not found them yet.</p> + +<p>From the silent shore came an occasional gun-shot. +The water-party were potting pigeons. +The sea was like a smooth pampas of quicksilver: +so steady you could not split shore from reflection, +till the casual collision of a pelican broke the +phantom. The crew were mending sails, under +the awning, with infinite slowness: all except one +negro, who straddled the bowsprit in his trousers, +admiring his own grin in the mirror beneath.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span> +The sun lit an iridescent glimmer on his shoulders: +in such a light even a negro could not be black.</p> + +<p>Emily was missing John badly: but the little +black pig snuffled in supreme content, his snout +buried amicably in her armpit.</p> + +<p>When the boatload returned, they had other +game besides pigeons and grey land-crabs. They +had stolen a goat from some lonely fisherman.</p> + +<p>It was just as they came up over the side that the +big white pig discovered the party under the awning, +and prepared for the attack. But the goat at +that moment bounded nimbly from the bulwarks: +and without even stopping to look round, swallowed +his chin and charged. He caught the old +pig full in the ribs, knocking his wind out completely.</p> + +<p>Then the battle began. The goat charged, the +pig screamed and hustled. Each time the goat +arrived at him the pig yelled as if he was killed; +but each time the goat drew back the pig advanced +towards him. The goat, his beard flying like a +prophet’s, his eyes crimson and his scut as lively as +a lamb’s at the teat, bounded in, bounded back +into the bows for a fresh run: but at each charge +his run grew shorter and shorter. The pig was +hemming him in.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the pig gave a frightful squeal, chiefly +in surprise at his own temerity, and pounced. He<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span> +had got the goat cornered against the windlass: +and for a few flashing seconds bit and trampled.</p> + +<p>It was a very chastened goat which was presently +led off to his quarters: but the children were +prepared to love him for ever, for the heroic bangs +he had given the old tyrant.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>But he was not entirely inhuman, that pig. +That same afternoon, he was lying on the hatch +eating a banana. The ship’s monkey was swinging +on a loose tail of rope; and spotting the prize, +swung further and further till at last he was able +to snatch it from between his very trotters. You +would never have thought that the immobile mask +of a pig could wear a look of such astonishment, +such dismay, such piteous injury.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 5</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">WHEN Destiny knocks the first nail in +the coffin of a tyrant, it is seldom long +before she knocks the last.</p> + +<p>It was the very next morning that the schooner, +in the lightest of airs, was sidling gently to leeward. +The mate was at the wheel, shifting his +weight from foot to foot with that rhythmic +motion many steersmen affect, the better to get +the feel of a finicky helm; and Edward was teaching +the captain’s terrier to beg, on the cabin-top. +The mate shouted to him to hang on to something.</p> + +<p>‘Why?’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Hang on!</i>’ cried the mate again, spinning the +wheel over as fast as he could to bring her into +the wind.</p> + +<p>The howling squall took her, through his +promptness, almost straight in the nose; or it +would have carried all away. Edward clung to +the skylight. The terrier skidded about alarmedly +all over the cabin-top, slipped off onto the +deck, and was kicked by a dashing sailor clean +through the galley door. But not so that poor +big pig, who was taking an airing on deck at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> +time. Overboard he went, and vanished to windward, +his snout (sometimes) sticking up manfully +out of the water. God, Who had sent him the +goat and the monkey for a sign, now required his +soul of him. Overboard, too, went the coops +of fowls, three new-washed shirts, and—of all +strange things to get washed away—the grind-stone.</p> + +<p>Up out of his cabin appeared the captain’s +shapeless brown head, cursing the mate as if it was +<i>he</i> who had upset the apple-cart. He came up +without his boots, in grey wool socks, and his +braces hanging down his back.</p> + +<p>‘Get below!’ muttered the mate furiously. +‘I can manage her!’</p> + +<p>The captain did not, however: still in his socks, +he came up on deck and took the wheel out of the +mate’s hand. The latter went a dull brick-red: +walked for’ard: then aft again: then went below +and shut himself in his cabin.</p> + +<p>In a few moments the wind had combed up +some quite hearty waves: then it blew their tops +off, and so flattened the sea out again, a sea that +was black except for little whipt-up fountains +of iridescent foam.</p> + +<p>‘Get my boots!’ bellowed Jonsen at Edward.</p> + +<p>Edward dashed down the companion with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span> +alacrity. It is a great moment, one’s first order at +sea; especially when it comes in an emergency. +He reappeared with a boot in each hand, and a +lurch flung him boots and all at the captain’s feet. +‘Never carry things in both hands,’ said the captain, +smiling pleasantly.</p> + +<p>‘Why?’ asked Edward.</p> + +<p>‘Keep one hand to lay hold with.’</p> + +<p>There was a pause.</p> + +<p>‘Some day I will teach you the three Sovereign +Rules of Life.’ He shook his head meditatively. +‘They are very wise. But not yet. You are too +young.’</p> + +<p>‘Why not?’ asked Edward. ‘When shall I be +old enough?’</p> + +<p>The captain considered, going over the Rules +in his head.</p> + +<p>‘When you know which is windward and +which is leeward, then I will teach you the first +rule.’</p> + +<p>Edward made his way forward, determined to +qualify as soon as he possibly could.</p> + +<p>When the worst of the squall was over they got +the advantage of it, the schooner lying over +lissomly and spinning along like a race-horse. +The crew were in great spirits—chaffing the carpenter, +who, they declared, had thrown his grind-stone +overboard as a lifebuoy for the pig.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>The children were in good spirits also. Their +shyness was all gone now. The schooner lying +over as she did, her wet deck made a most admirable +toboggan-slide; and for half an hour they +tobogganed happily on their bottoms from windward +to leeward, shrieking with joy, fetching up +in the lee-scuppers, which were mostly awash, and +then climbing from thing to thing to the windward +bulwarks raised high in the air, and so all +over again.</p> + +<p>Throughout that half hour, Jonsen at the wheel +said not a single word. But at last his pent-up +irritation broke out:</p> + +<p>‘Hi! You! Stop that!’</p> + +<p>They gazed at him in astonishment and disillusion.</p> + +<p>There is a period in the relations of children +with any new grown-up in charge of them, the +period between first acquaintance and the first reproof, +which can only be compared to the primordial +innocence of Eden. Once a reproof has +been administered, this can never be recovered +again.</p> + +<p>Jonsen now had done it.</p> + +<p>But he was not content with that—he was still +bursting with rage:</p> + +<p>‘Stop it! Stop it, I tell you!’</p> + +<p>(They had already done so, of course.)</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>The whole unreasonableness, the monstrousness +of the imposition of these brats on his ship +suddenly came over him, and summed itself up +in a single symbol:</p> + +<p>‘If you go and wear holes in your drawers, do +you think <i>I</i> am going to mend them?—Lieber +Gott! What do you think I am, eh? What do +you think this ship is? What do you think we all +are? To mend your drawers for you, eh? <i>To +mend ... your ... drawers?</i>’</p> + +<p>There was a pause, while they all stood thunderstruck.</p> + +<p>But even now he had not finished:</p> + +<p>‘Where do you think you’ll get new ones, eh?’ +he asked, in a voice explosive with rage. Then he +added, with an insulting coarseness of tone: ‘And +I’ll not have you going about my ship without +them! See?’</p> + +<p>Scarlet to the eyes with outrage they retreated +to the bows. They could hardly believe so unspeakable +a remark had crossed human lips. They +assumed an air of lightness, and talked together in +studied loud voices: but their joy was dashed for +the day.</p> + +<p>So it was that—small as a man’s hand—a spectre +began to show over their horizon: the suspicion +at last that this was <i>not</i> all according to plan, that +they might even not be wanted. For a while their<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span> +actions showed the unhappy wariness of the uninvited +guest.</p> + +<p>Later in the afternoon, Jonsen, who had not +spoken again, but looked from time to time acutely +miserable, was still at the wheel. The mate had +shaved himself and put on shore clothes, as a +parable: he now appeared on deck: pretended +not to see the captain, but strolled like a passenger +up to the children and entered into conversation +with them.</p> + +<p>‘If I’m not fit to steer in foul weather, I’m not +fit to steer in fair!’ he muttered, but without +glancing at the captain. ‘He can take the helum +all day and night, for all the help <i>I’ll</i> give him!’</p> + +<p>The captain appeared equally not to see the +mate. He looked quite ready to take both +watches till kingdom come.</p> + +<p>‘If <i>he’d</i> been at the wheel when that squall struck +us,’ said the mate under his voice but with biting +passion, ‘he’d have lost the ship! He’s no more +eye for a squall coming than a sucker-fish! And +he knows it, too: that’s what makes him go on +this way!’</p> + +<p>The children did not answer. It shocked them +deeply to have to see a grown-up, a should-be +Olympian, displaying his feelings. In exact opposition +to the witnesses at the Transfiguration, +they felt it would have been good for them to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span> +almost anywhere rather than there. He was totally +unconscious of their discomfort, however: too +self-occupied to notice how they avoided catching +his eye.</p> + +<p>‘Look! There’s a steamship!’ exclaimed +Margaret, with much too bright a brightness.</p> + +<p>The mate glowered at it.</p> + +<p>‘Aye, they’ll be the death of us, those steamers,’ +he said. ‘Every year there’s more of them. +They’ll be using them for men-of-war next, and +then where’ll we be? Times are bad enough +without steamers.’</p> + +<p>But while he spoke he wore a preoccupied expression, +as if he were more concerned with what +was going on at the back of his mind than with +what went on in the front.</p> + +<p>‘Did you ever hear about what happened when +the first steamer put to sea in the Gulf of Paria?’ +he asked, however.</p> + +<p>‘No, what?’ asked Margaret, with an eagerness +that even exceeded the necessities of politeness +in its falsity.</p> + +<p>‘She was built on the Clyde, and sailed over. +(Nobody thought of using steam for a long ocean +voyage in those days.) The Company thought +they ought to make a to-do—to popularise her, so +to speak. So the first time she put to sea under +her own power, they invited all the big-wigs on<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> +board: all the Members of Assembly in Trinidad, +and the Governor and his Staff, and a Bishop. It +was the Bishop what did the trick.’</p> + +<p>His story died out: he became completely +absorbed in watching sidelong the effect of his +bravado on the captain.</p> + +<p>‘Did what?’ asked Margaret.</p> + +<p>‘Ran ’em aground.’</p> + +<p>‘But what did they let him steer for?’ asked +Edward. ‘They might have known he couldn’t!’</p> + +<p>‘Edward! How dare you talk about a Bishop +in that rude way!’ admonished Rachel.</p> + +<p>‘It wasn’t the steamer he ran aground, sonny,’ +said the mate: ‘it was a poor innocent little devil +of a pirate craft, that was just beating up for the +Boca Grande in a northerly breeze.’</p> + +<p>‘Good for him!’ said Edward. ‘How did +he do it?’</p> + +<p>‘They were all sea-sick, being on a steamer for +the first time: the way she rolls, not like a decent +sailing-vessel. There wasn’t a man who could +stay on deck—except the Bishop, and he just +thrived on it. So when the poor little pirate cut +under her bows, and seen her coming up in the eye +of the wind, no sail set, with a cloud of smoke +amidships and an old Bishop bung in the middle +of the smoke, and her paddles making as much +turmoil as a whale trying to scratch a flea in its ear,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> +he just beached his vessel and took to the woods. +Never went to sea again, he didn’t; started growing +cocoa-nuts. But there was one poor fish was +in such a hurry he broke his leg, and they came +ashore and found him. When he saw the Bishop +coming for him he started yelling out it was the +Devil.’</p> + +<p>‘O-oh!’ gasped Rachel, horror-struck.</p> + +<p>‘How silly of him,’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know so much!’ said the mate. ‘He +wasn’t too far wrong! Ever since that, they’ve +been the death of our profession, Steam and the +Church ... what with steaming, and what with +preaching, and steaming and preaching.... Now +that’s a funny thing,’ he broke off, suddenly interested +by what he was saying: ‘<i>Steam</i> and the +<i>Church</i>! What have they got in common, eh? +Nothing, you’d say: you’d think they’d fight +each other cat-and-dog: but no: they’re thick +as two thieves ... thick as thieves.—Not like in +the days of Parson Audain.’</p> + +<p>‘Who was he?’ asked Margaret helpfully.</p> + +<p>‘He was a right sort of a parson, he was, <i>yn wyr +iawn</i>! He was Rector of Roseau—oh, a long +time back.’</p> + +<p>‘Here! Come and take this wheel while I have +a spell!’ grunted the captain.</p> + +<p>‘I couldn’t well say <i>how</i> long back,’ continued<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span> +the mate in a loud, unnatural, and now slightly +exultant voice: ‘forty years or more.’</p> + +<p>He began to tell the story of the famous Rector +of Roseau: one of the finest pathetic preachers of +his age, according to contemporaries; whose +appearance was fine, gentle, and venerable, and +who supplemented his stipend by owning a small +privateer.</p> + +<p>‘Here! Otto!’ called Jonsen.</p> + +<p>But the mate had a long recital of the parson’s +misfortunes before him: beginning with the capture +of his schooner (while smuggling negroes to +Guadaloupe) by another privateer, from Nevis; +and how the parson went to Nevis, posted his +rival’s name on the court-house door, and stood +on guard there with loaded pistols for three days +in the hope the man would come and challenge +him.</p> + +<p>‘What, to fight a <i>duel</i>?’ asked Harry.</p> + +<p>‘But wasn’t he a clergyman, you said?’ asked +Emily.</p> + +<p>But duels, it appeared, did not come amiss to +this priest. He fought thirteen altogether in his +life, the mate told them: and on one occasion, +while waiting for the seconds to reload, he went +up to his opponent, suggested ‘just a little something +to fill in time, good sir’—and knocked him +flat with his fist.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>This time, however, his enemy lay low: so he +fitted out a second schooner, and took command +of her, week-days, himself. His first quarry was +an apparently harmless Spanish merchantman: +but she suddenly opened fourteen masked gun-ports +and it was he who had to surrender. All his +crew were massacred but himself and his carpenter, +who hid behind a water-cask all night.</p> + +<p>‘But I don’t understand,’ said Margaret: ‘was +he a pirate?’</p> + +<p>‘Of course he was!’ said Otto the mate.</p> + +<p>‘Then <i>why</i> did you say he was a clergyman?’ +pursued Emily.</p> + +<p>The mate looked as puzzled as she did. ‘Well, +he was Rector of Roseau, wasn’t he? And B.A., +B.D.? Anyway, he was Rector until the new +Governor listened to some cock-and-bull story +against him, and made him resign. He was the +best preacher they ever had—he’d have been a +Bishop one day, if some one hadn’t slandered him +to the Governor!’</p> + +<p>‘Otto!’ called the captain in a conciliatory +voice. ‘Come over here, I want to speak to you.’</p> + +<p>But the deaf and exulting mate had plenty of his +story still to run: how Audain now turned trader, +and took a cargo of corn to San Domingo, and +settled there: how he challenged two black +generals to a duel, and shot them both, and Christophe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span> +threatened to hang him if they died. But +the parson (having little faith in Domingan doctors) +escaped by night in an open boat and went to St. +Eustatius. There he found many religions but no +ministers; so he recommenced clergyman of +every kind: in the morning he celebrated a mass +for the Catholics, then a Lutheran service in +Dutch, then Church of England matins: in the +evening he sang hymns and preached hell-fire to +the Methodists. Meanwhile his wife, who had +more tranquil tastes, lived at Bristol: so he now +married a Dutch widow, resourcefully conducting +the ceremony himself.</p> + +<p>‘But I <i>don’t</i> understand!’ said Emily despairingly: +‘Was he a real clergyman?’</p> + +<p>‘Of course he wasn’t,’ said Margaret.</p> + +<p>‘But he couldn’t have married himself <i>himself</i> +if he wasn’t,’ argued Edward. ‘Could he?’</p> + +<p>The mate heaved a sigh.</p> + +<p>‘But the English Church aren’t like that nowadays,’ +he said. ‘They’re all against us.’</p> + +<p>‘I should think not, indeed!’ pronounced +Rachel slowly, in a deep indignant voice. ‘He +was a very wicked man!’</p> + +<p>‘He was a most respectable person,’ replied the +mate severely, ‘and a <i>wonderful</i> pathetic preacher!—You +may take it they were chagrined at Roseau, +when they heard St. Eustatius had got him!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span>Captain Jonsen had lashed the wheel, and came +up, his face piteous with distress.</p> + +<p>‘Otto! Mein Schatz...!’ he began, laying +his great bear’s-arm round the mate’s neck. +Without more ado they went below together, and +a sailor came aft unbidden and took the wheel.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Ten minutes later the mate reappeared on deck +for a moment, and sought out the children.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the captain been saying to you?’ he +asked. ‘Flashed out at you about something, +did he?’</p> + +<p>He took their complex, uncomfortable silence +for assent.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t you take too much notice of what he +says,’ he went on. ‘He flashes out like that sometimes; +but a minute after he could eat himself, +fair eat himself!’</p> + +<p>The children stared at him in astonishment: +what on earth was he trying to say?</p> + +<p>But he seemed to think he had explained his +mission fully: turned, and once more went +below.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>For hours a merry but rather tedious hubble-bubble, +suggesting liquor, was heard ascending +from the cabin skylight. As evening drew on, +the breeze having dropped away almost to a calm,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span> +the steersman reported that both Jonsen and Otto +were now fast asleep, their heads on each other’s +shoulders across the cabin table. As he had long +forgotten what the course was, but had been +simply steering by the wind, and there was now no +wind to steer by, he (the steersman) concluded the +wheel could get on very well without him.</p> + +<p>The reconciliation of the captain and the mate +deserved to be celebrated by all hands with a +blind.</p> + +<p>A rum-cask was broached: and the common +sailors were soon as unconscious as their betters.</p> + +<p>Altogether this was one of the unpleasantest +days the children had spent in their lives.</p> + +<p>When dawn came, every one was still pretty +incapable, and the neglected vessel drooped uncertainly. +Jonsen, still rather unsteady on his +feet, his head aching and his mind Napoleonic but +muddled, came on deck and looked about him. +The sun had come up like a searchlight: but it +was about all there was to be seen. No land was +anywhere in sight, and the sea and sky seemed +very uncertain as to the most becoming place to +locate their mutual firmament. It was not till he +had looked round and round a fair number of +times that he perceived a vessel, up in what by all +appearances must be sky, yet not very far distant.</p> + +<p>For some little while he could not remember<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> +what it is a pirate captain does when he sees a sail; +and he felt in no mood to overtax his brain by +trying to. But after a time it came back unbidden—one +gives chase.</p> + +<p>‘Give chase!’ he ordered solemnly to the +morning air: and then went below again and +roused the mate, who roused the crew.</p> + +<p>No one had the least idea where they were, or +what kind of a craft this quarry might be: but +such considerations were altogether too complicated +for the moment. As the sun parted further +from his reflection a breeze sprang up: so the +sails were trimmed after a fashion, and chase was +duly given.</p> + +<p>In an hour or two, as the air grew clearer, it was +plain their quarry was a merchant brig, not too +heavily laden, and making a fair pace: a pace, +indeed, which in their incompetently trimmed +condition they were finding it pretty difficult to +equal. Jonsen shuffled rapidly up and down the +deck like a shuttle, passing his woof backwards +and forwards through the real business of the +ship. He was hugging himself with excitement, +trying to evolve some crafty scheme of capture. +The chase went on: but noon passed, the distance +between the two vessels was barely, if at all, +lessened. Jonsen, however, was much too optimistic +to realise this.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>It used to be a common device of pirates when +in chase of a vessel to tow behind them a spare +topmast, or some other bulky object. This would +act as a drogue, or brake: and the pursued, seeing +them with all sail set apparently doing their utmost, +would under-estimate their powers of speed. +Then when night fell the pirate would haul the +spar on board, overtake the other vessel rapidly, +and catch it unprepared.</p> + +<p>There were several reasons why this device +was unsuitable to the present occasion. First and +most obviously, it was doubtful whether, in their +present condition, they were capable of overtaking +the brig at all, leaving such handicaps altogether +out of consideration. A second was that the brig +showed no signs of alarm. She was proceeding +on her voyage at her natural pace, quite unaware +of the honour they were doing her.</p> + +<p>However, Captain Jonsen was nothing if not a +crafty man; and during the afternoon he gave +orders for a spare spar to be towed behind as I +have described. The result was that the schooner +lost ground rapidly: and when night fell they +were at least a couple of miles further from the brig +than they had been at dawn. When night fell, of +course, they hauled the spar on board and prepared +for the last act. They followed the brig by +compass through the hours of darkness, without<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> +catching sight of her. When morning came, all +hands crowded expectantly at the rail.</p> + +<p>But the brig was vanished. The sea was as +bare as an egg.</p> + +<p>If they were lost before, now they were double-lost. +Jonsen did not know where he might be +within two hundred miles; and being no sextant-man, +but an incurable dead-reckoner, he had no +means of finding out. This did not worry him +very greatly, however, because sooner or later one +of two things might happen: he might catch +sight of some bit of land he recognised, or he +might capture some vessel better informed than +himself. Meanwhile, since he had no particular +destination, one bit of sea was much the same to +him as another.</p> + +<p>The piece he was wandering in, however, was +evidently out of the main track of shipping; for +days went by, and weeks, without his coming even +so near to effecting a capture as he had been in the +case of the brig.</p> + +<p>But Captain Jonsen was not sorry to be out of +the public eye for a while. Before he had left +Santa Lucia, news had reached him of the <i>Clorinda</i> +putting into Havana; and of the fantastic tale +Marpole was telling. The ‘twelve masked gun-ports’ +had amused him hugely, since he was +altogether without artillery: but when he heard<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span> +Marpole accused him of murdering the children—Marpole, +that least reputable of skunks—his anger +had broken out in one of its sudden explosions. +For it was unthinkable—during those first few +days—that he would ever touch a hair of their +heads, or even speak a cross word to them. They +were still a sort of holy novelty then: it was not +till their shyness had worn off that he had begun +to regret so whole-heartedly the failure of his +attempt to leave them behind with the Chief +Magistrate’s wife.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 6</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE weeks passed in aimless wandering. +For the children, the lapse of time acquired +once more the texture of a dream: +things ceased happening: every inch of the +schooner was now as familiar to them as the +<i>Clorinda</i> had been, or Ferndale: they settled down +quietly to grow, as they had done at Ferndale, and +as they would have done, had there been time, on +the <i>Clorinda</i>.</p> + +<p>And then an event did occur, to Emily, of considerable +importance. She suddenly realised who +she was.</p> + +<p>There is little reason that one can see why it +should not have happened to her five years earlier, +or even five later; and none, why it should have +come that particular afternoon.</p> + +<p>She had been playing houses in a nook right in +the bows, behind the windlass (on which she had +hung a devil’s-claw as a door-knocker); and tiring +of it was walking rather aimlessly aft, thinking +vaguely about some bees and a fairy queen, when +it suddenly flashed into her mind that she was <i>she</i>.</p> + +<p>She stopped dead, and began looking over all of +her person which came within the range of eyes.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span> +She could not see much, except a fore-shortened +view of the front of her frock, and her hands +when she lifted them for inspection: but it was +enough for her to form a rough idea of the little +body she suddenly realised to be hers.</p> + +<p>She began to laugh, rather mockingly. ‘Well!’ +she thought, in effect: ‘Fancy <i>you</i>, of all people, +going and getting caught like this!—You can’t +get out of it now, not for a very long time: you’ll +have to go through with being a child, and growing +up, and getting old, before you’ll be quit of +this mad prank!’</p> + +<p>Determined to avoid any interruption of this +highly important occasion, she began to climb the +ratlines, on her way to her favourite perch at the +mast-head. Each time she moved an arm or a leg +in this simple action, however, it struck her with +fresh amusement to find them obeying her so +readily. Memory told her, of course, that they +had always done so before: but before, she had +never realised how surprising this was.</p> + +<p>Once settled on her perch, she began examining +the skin of her hands with the utmost care: for it +was <i>hers</i>. She slipped a shoulder out of the top +of her frock; and having peeped in to make sure +she really was continuous under her clothes, she +shrugged it up to touch her cheek. The contact +of her face and the warm bare hollow of her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span> +shoulder gave her a comfortable thrill, as if it was +the caress of some kind friend. But whether the +feeling came to her through her cheek or her +shoulder, which was the caresser and which the +caressed, that no analysis could tell her.</p> + +<p>Once fully convinced of this astonishing fact, +that she was now Emily Bas-Thornton (why she +inserted the ‘now’ she did not know, for she +certainly imagined no transmigrational nonsense +of having been any one else before), she began +seriously to reckon its implications.</p> + +<p>First, what agency had so ordered it that out of +all the people in the world who she might have +been, she was this particular one, this Emily: born +in such-and-such a year out of all the years in Time, +and encased in this particular rather pleasing little +casket of flesh? Had she chosen herself, or had +God done it?</p> + +<p>At this, another consideration: who was God? +She had heard a terrible lot about Him, always: +but the question of His identity had been left vague, +as much taken for granted as her own. Wasn’t +she perhaps God, herself? Was it that she was +trying to remember? However, the more she +tried, the more it eluded her. (How absurd, to +disremember such an important point as whether +one was God or not!) So she let it slide: perhaps +it would come back to her later.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>Secondly, why had all this not occurred to her +before? She had been alive for over ten years +now, and it had never once entered her head. She +felt like a man who suddenly remembers at eleven +o’clock at night, sitting in his own arm-chair, that +he had accepted an invitation to go out to dinner +that night. There is no reason for him to remember +it now: but there seems equally little +why he should not have remembered it in time to +keep his engagement. How could he have sat +there all the evening without being disturbed by +the slightest misgiving? How could Emily have +gone on being Emily for ten years without once +noticing this apparently obvious fact?</p> + +<p>It must not be supposed that she argued it all out +in this ordered, but rather long-winded fashion. +Each consideration came to her in a momentary +flash, quite innocent of words: and in between +her mind lazed along, either thinking of nothing +or returning to her bees and the fairy queen. If +one added up the total of her periods of conscious +thought, it would probably reach something between +four and five seconds; nearer five, perhaps; +but it was spread out over the best part of an +hour.</p> + +<p>Well then, granted she was Emily, what were +the consequences, besides enclosure in that particular +little body (which now began on its own<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span> +account to be aware of a sort of unlocated itch, +most probably somewhere on the right thigh), and +lodgment behind a particular pair of eyes?</p> + +<p>It implied a whole series of circumstances. In +the first place, there was her family, a number of +brothers and sisters from whom, before, she had +never entirely dissociated herself; but now she +got such a sudden feeling of being a discrete +person that they seemed as separate from her as +the ship itself. However, willy-nilly she was +almost as tied to them as she was to her body. +And then there was this voyage, this ship, this +mast round which she had wound her legs. She +began to examine it with almost as vivid an illumination +as she had studied the skin of her hands. +And when she came down from the mast, what +would she find at the bottom? There would be +Jonsen, and Otto, and the crew: the whole fabric +of a daily life which up to now she had accepted as +it came, but which now seemed vaguely disquieting. +What was going to happen? Were there +disasters running about loose, disasters which her +rash marriage to the body of Emily Thornton +made her vulnerable to?</p> + +<p>A sudden terror struck her: did any one know? +(Know, I mean, that she was some one in particular, +Emily—perhaps even God—not just any +little girl.) She could not tell why, but the idea<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span> +terrified her. It would be bad enough if they +should discover she was a particular person—but +if they should discover she was God! At all costs +she must hide <i>that</i> from them.—But suppose they +knew already, had simply been hiding it from her +(as guardians might from an infant king)? In +that case, as in the other, the only thing to do was +to continue to behave as if she did not know, and +so outwit them.</p> + +<p>But if she was God, why not turn all the sailors +into white mice, or strike Margaret blind, or cure +somebody, or do some other Godlike act of the +kind? Why should she hide it? She never +really asked herself why: but instinct prompted +her strongly of the necessity. Of course, there +was the element of doubt (suppose she had made +a mistake, and the miracle missed fire): but more +largely it was the feeling that she would be able to +deal with the situation so much better when she was +a little older. Once she had declared herself there +would be no turning back; it was much better to +keep her godhead up her sleeve for the present.</p> + +<p>Grown-ups embark on a life of deception with +considerable misgiving, and generally fail. But +not so children. A child can hide the most appalling +secret without the least effort, and is practically +secure against detection. Parents, finding +that they see through their child in so many places<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> +the child does not know of, seldom realise that, if +there is some point the child really gives his mind +to hiding, their chances are nil.</p> + +<p>So Emily had no misgivings when she determined +to preserve her secret, and needed have none.</p> + +<p>Down below on the deck the smaller children +were repeatedly crowding themselves into a huge +coil of rope, feigning sleep and then suddenly +leaping out with yelps of panic and dancing round +it in consternation and dismay. Emily watched +them with that impersonal attention one gives to +a kaleidoscope. Presently Harry spied her, and +gave a hail.</p> + +<p>‘Emilee-ee! Come down and play House-on-fire!’</p> + +<p>At that, her normal interests momentarily revived. +Her stomach as it were leapt within her +sympathetically toward the game. But it died in +her as suddenly; and not only died, but she did +not even feel disposed to waste her noble voice on +them. She continued to stare without making any +reply whatever.</p> + +<p>‘Come on!’ shouted Edward.</p> + +<p>‘Come and play!’ shouted Laura. ‘Don’t be +a pig!’</p> + +<p>Then in the ensuing stillness Rachel’s voice +floated up:</p> + +<p>‘Don’t call her, Laura, we don’t really want her.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>But Emily was completely unaffected—only +glad that for the present they were all right by +themselves. She was already beginning to feel +the charge of the party a burden.</p> + +<p>It had automatically devolved on her with the +defection of Margaret.</p> + +<p>It was puzzling, this Margaret business. She +could not understand it, and it disturbed her. It +dated back really to that night, about a week ago, +when she herself had so unaccountably bitten the +captain. The memory of her own extraordinary behaviour +gave her now quite a little shiver of alarm.</p> + +<p>Everybody had been very drunk that night, and +making a terrible racket—it was impossible to get +to sleep. So at last Edward had asked her to tell +them a story. But she was not feeling ‘storyable,’ +so they had asked Margaret; all except Rachel, +who had begged Margaret not to, because she +wanted to think, she said. But Margaret had +been very pleased at being asked, and had begun +a very stupid story about a princess who had lots +and lots of clothes and was always beating her +servant for making mistakes and shutting him up +in a dark cupboard. The whole story, really, had +been nothing but clothes and beating, and Rachel +had <i>begged</i> her to stop.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>In the middle, a sort of rabble of sailors had +come down the ladder, very slowly and with much +discussion. They stood at the bottom in a knot, +swaying a little and all turned inwards on one of +their number. It was so dark one could not see +who this was. They were urging him to do +something—he hanging back.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, damn it!’ he cried in a thick voice. +‘Bring me a light, I can’t see where dey are!’</p> + +<p>It was the voice of the captain—but how altered! +There was a sort of suppressed excitement in it. +Some one lit a lantern and held it up in the middle. +Captain Jonsen stood on his legs half like a big +sack of flour, half like a waiting tiger.</p> + +<p>‘What do you want?’ Emily had asked kindly.</p> + +<p>But Captain Jonsen stood irresolute, shifting his +weight from foot to foot as if he was steering.</p> + +<p>‘You’re drunk, aren’t you?’ Rachel had +piped, loudly and disapprovingly.</p> + +<p>But it was Margaret who had behaved most +queerly. She had gone yellow as cheese, and her +eyes large with terror. She was shivering from +head to foot as if she had the fever. It was absurd. +Then Emily remembered how stupidly frightened +Margaret had been the very first night on the +schooner.</p> + +<p>At that moment Jonsen had staggered up to +Emily, and putting one hand under her chin had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span> +begun to stroke her hair with the other. A sort +of blind vertigo seized her: she caught his thumb +and bit as hard as she could: then, terrified at her +own madness, dashed across the hold to where the +other children were gathered in a wondering knot.</p> + +<p>‘What <i>have</i> you done!’ cried Laura, pushing +her away angrily: ‘Oh you wicked girl, you’ve +hurt him!’</p> + +<p>Jonsen was stamping about, swearing and sucking +his thumb. Edward had produced a handkerchief, +and between them all they had managed +to tie it up. He stood staring at the bandaged +member for a few moments: shook his head like +a wet retriever and retreated on deck, dang-danging +under his breath. Margaret had then been +so sick they thought she must really have caught +fever, and they couldn’t get any sense out of her +at all.</p> + +<p>As Emily, with her new-found consciousness, +recapitulated the scene, it was like re-reading a +story in a book, so little responsibility did she feel +for the merely mechanical creature who had bitten +the captain’s thumb. Nor was she even very interested: +it had been queer, but then there was +very little in life which didn’t seem queer, now.</p> + +<p>As for Jonsen, he and Emily had avoided each +other ever since, by mutual consent. She indeed +had been in Coventry with everybody for biting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> +him; none of the other children would play with +her all the next day, and she recognised that she +thoroughly deserved it—it was a <i>mad</i> thing to +have done. And yet Jonsen, in avoiding her, had +himself more the air of being ashamed than angry +... which was unaccountable.</p> + +<p>But what interested her more was the curious +way Margaret had gone on, those next few +days.</p> + +<p>For some time she had behaved very oddly indeed. +At first she seemed exaggeratedly frightened +of all the men: but then she had suddenly +taken to following them about the deck like a dog—not +Jonsen, it is true, but Otto especially. Then +suddenly she had departed from them altogether +and taken up her quarters in the cabin. The +curious thing was that now she avoided them all +utterly, and spent all her time with the sailors: +and the sailors, for their part, seemed to take +peculiar pains not only not to let her speak to, but +even not to let her be seen by the other children.</p> + +<p>Now they hardly saw her at all: and when they +did she seemed so different, they hardly recognised +her: though where the difference lay it would be +hard to say.</p> + +<p>Emily, from her perch at the mast-head, could +just see the girl’s head now, through the cabin +skylight. Further forward, José had joined the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span> +children at their game, and was crawling about on +hands and knees with all of them on his back—a +fire-engine, of course, such as they had seen in the +illustrated magazines from England.</p> + +<p>‘Emily!’ called Harry: ‘Come and play!’</p> + +<p>Down with a rush fell the curtain on all Emily’s +cogitations. In a second she was once more a +happy little animal—<i>any</i> happy little animal. She +slid down the shrouds like a real sailor, and in no +time was directing the fire-fighting operations as +imperiously as any other of this brigade of superintendents.</p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>That night in the Parliament of Beds there was +raised at last a question which you may well be +surprised had not been raised before. Emily had +just reduced her family to silence by sheer ferocity, +when Harry’s rapid, nervous, lisping voice +piped up:</p> + +<p>‘Emily, Emily may I ask you a question, +please?’</p> + +<p>‘Go to sleep!’</p> + +<p>There was a moment’s whispered confabulation.</p> + +<p>‘But it’s very important, please, and we all +want to know.’</p> + +<p>‘What?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>‘Are these people pirates?’</p> + +<p>Emily sat bolt upright with astonishment.</p> + +<p>‘Of course not!’</p> + +<p>Harry sounded rather crestfallen.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know ... I just thought they might....’</p> + +<p>‘But they <i>are</i>!’ declared Rachel firmly. +‘Margaret told me!’</p> + +<p>‘Nonsense!’ said Emily. ‘There aren’t any +pirates nowadays.’</p> + +<p>‘Margaret said,’ went on Rachel, ‘that time +we were shut up on the other ship she heard one +of the sailors calling out pirates had come on +board.’</p> + +<p>Emily had an inspiration.</p> + +<p>‘No, you silly, he must have said <i>pilots</i>.’</p> + +<p>‘What are pilots?’ asked Laura.</p> + +<p>‘They Come On Board,’ explained Emily, +lamely. ‘Don’t you remember that picture in the +dining-room at home, called The Pilot Comes On +Board?’</p> + +<p>Laura listened with rapt attention. The explanation +of what pilots were was not very illuminating; +but then she did not know what pirates +were either. So you might think the whole discussion +meant very little to her, but there you +would be wrong: the question was evidently +important to the older ones, therefore she gave +her whole mind to listening.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>The pirate heresy was considerably shaken. +How could they say for certain which word +Margaret had really heard? Rachel changed sides.</p> + +<p>‘They can’t be pirates,’ she said. ‘Pirates are +wicked.’</p> + +<p>‘Couldn’t we ask them?’ Edward persisted.</p> + +<p>Emily considered.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t think it would be very polite.’</p> + +<p>‘I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,’ said Edward. +‘They’re awfully decent.’</p> + +<p>‘I think they mightn’t like it,’ said Emily. In +her heart she was afraid of the answer; and if they +were pirates, it would here again be better to pretend +not to know.</p> + +<p>‘I know!’ she said. ‘Shall I ask the Mouse +with the Elastic Tail?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes, do!’ cried Laura. It was months since +the oracle had been consulted; but her faith was +still perfect.</p> + +<p>Emily communed with herself in a series of +short squeaks.</p> + +<p>‘He says they are <i>Pilots</i>,’ she announced.</p> + +<p>‘Oh,’ said Edward deeply: and they all went +to sleep.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 7</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">EDWARD often thought, as he strode scowling +up and down the deck by himself, that +this was exactly the life for him. What a +lucky boy he was, to have tumbled into it by good +fortune, instead of having to run away to sea as +most other people did! In spite of the White +Mouse’s pronouncement (whom secretly he had +long ceased to believe in), he had no doubt that +this was a pirate vessel: and no doubt either that +when presently Jonsen was killed in some furious +battle the sailors would unanimously elect him +their captain.</p> + +<p>The girls were a great nuisance. A ship was no +place for them. When he was captain he would +have them marooned.</p> + +<p>Yet there had been a time when he had wished +he was a girl himself. ‘When I was young,’ he +once confided to the admiring Harry, ‘I used to +think girls were bigger and stronger than boys. +Weren’t I silly?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Harry.</p> + +<p>Harry did not confide it to Edward, but he also, +<i>now</i>, wished he was a girl. It was not for the same +reason: younger than Edward, he was still at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span> +amorous age; and because he found the company +of girls almost magically pleasing, fondly imagined +it would be even more so if he were one himself. +He was always finding himself, for being a boy, +shut out from their most secret councils. Emily +of course was too old to count as female in his +eyes: but to Rachel and Laura he was indiscriminately +devoted. When Edward was captain, +he would be mate: and when he imagined this +future, it consisted for the most part in rescuing +Rachel—or Laura, <i>n’importe</i>—from new and +complicated dangers.</p> + +<p>They were all by now just as much at home on +the schooner as they had been in Jamaica. Indeed, +nothing very continuous was left of Ferndale +for the youngest ones: only a number of +luminous pictures of quite unimportant incidents. +Emily of course remembered most things, and +could put them together. The death of Tabby, +for instance: she would never forget that as long +as she lived. She could recollect, too, that Ferndale +had tumbled down flat. And her Earthquake: +she had been in an earthquake, and could remember +every detail of <i>that</i>. Had it been as a result of +the earthquake that Ferndale had tumbled down? +That sounded likely. There had been quite a high +wind at that time, too.... She could remember +that they had all been bathing when the earthquake<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span> +had come, and then had ridden somewhere on +ponies. But they had been <i>in</i> the house when it +fell down: she was pretty sure of that. It was +all a little difficult to join up.—Then, when was it +she had found that negro village? She could +remember with a startling clearness bending down +and feeling among the bamboo roots for the +bubbling spring, then looking round and seeing +the black children scampering away up the clearing. +That must have been years and years ago. +But clearer than everything was that awful night +when Tabby had stalked up and down the room, +his eyes blazing and his fur twitching, his voice +melodious with tragedy, until those horrible black +shapes had flown in through the fanlight and +savaged him out into the bush. The horror of +the scene was even increased because it had once +or twice come back to her in dreams, and because +when she dreamt it (though it seemed the same) +there was always some frightful difference. One +night (and that was the worst of all) she had rushed +out to rescue him, when her darling faithful Tabby +had come up to her with the same horrible look +on his face the captain had worn that time she bit +his thumb, and had chased her down avenues and +avenues and avenues and avenues of cabbage-palms, +with Exeter House at the end of them never +getting any nearer however much she ran. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> +knew, of course, it was not the real Tabby, but a +sort of diabolic double: and Margaret had sat up +an orange tree jeering at her, gone as black as a +negro.</p> + +<p>One of the drawbacks of life at sea was the cockroaches. +They were winged. They infested the +fore-hold, and the smell they made was horrible. +One had to put up with them. But one didn’t do +much washing at sea: and it was a common thing +to wake up in the morning and find the brutes had +gnawed the quick from under one’s nails, or +gnawed all the hard skin off the soles of one’s feet, +so that one could hardly walk. Anything in the +least greasy or dirty they set on at once. Button-holes +were their especial delight. One did little +washing: fresh water was too valuable, and salt +water had practically no effect. From handling +tarry ropes and greasy ironwork their hands would +have disgraced a slum-child. There is a sailor +saying which includes a peck of dirt in the +mariner’s monthly rations: but the children on +the schooner must have often consumed far +more.</p> + +<p>Not that it was a dirty ship—the fo’c’sle probably +was, but the Nordicism of captain and mate +kept the rest looking clean enough. But even the +cleanest-looking ship is seldom clean to the touch. +Their clothes José washed occasionally with his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span> +own shirt: and in that climate they were dry again +by the morning.</p> + +<p>Jamaica had faded into the past: England, to +which they had supposed they were going, and of +which a very curious picture had formerly been +built up in their minds by their parents’ constant +references to it, receded again into the mists of +myth. They lived in the present, adapted themselves +to it, and might have been born in a hammock +and christened at a binnacle before they had +been there many weeks. They seemed to have no +natural fear of heights, and the farther they were +above the deck, the happier. On a calm day +Edward used to hang by his knees from the cross-trees +in order to feel the blood run into his head. +The flying-jib, too, which was usually down, made +an admirable cocoon for hide-and-seek: one took +a firm grip of the hanks and robands, and swathed +oneself in the canvas. Once, suspecting Edward +was hidden there, instead of going out on the +jib-boom to look, the other children cast off the +down-haul and then all together gave a great tug +at the halyard which nearly pitched him into the +sea. The shark myth is greatly exaggerated: it +is untrue, for instance, that they can take a leg +clean off at the hip—their bite is a tearing one, not +a clean cut: and a practised bather can keep them +off easily with a welt on the nose each time they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> +turn over to strike<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a>: but all the same, once overboard +there would have been little hope for a +small boy like Edward: and a severe wigging +they all got for their prank.</p> + +<p>Often several of those thick, rubber-like protuberances +would follow the vessel for hours—perhaps +in the hope of just some such antic.</p> + +<p>Sharks were not without their uses, however: +it is well known that Catch a Shark Catch a Breeze, +so when a breeze was needed the sailors baited a +big hook and presently hauled one on board with +the winch. The bigger he was, the better breeze +was hoped for: and his tail was nailed to the jib-boom. +One day they got a great whacking fellow +on board, and having cut off his jaw some one +heaved it into the ship’s latrine (which no one was +so lubberly as to use for its proper purpose) and +thought no more about it. One wildish night, +however, old José did go there, and sat full on that +wicked <i>cheval de frise</i>. He yelled like a madman: +and the crew were better pleased than they had +been with any joke that year, and even Emily +thought if only it had been less improper how +funny it would have been. It would certainly have +puzzled an archæologist, faced with José’s mummy, +to guess how he came by those curious scars.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>The ship’s monkey also added a lot to the ship’s +merriment. One day some sucker-fish had fixed +themselves firmly to the deck, and he undertook +to dislodge them. After a few preliminary tugs, +he braced three legs and his tail against the deck +and lunged like a madman. But they would not +budge. The crew were standing round in a ring, +and he felt his honour was at stake: somehow, +they <i>must</i> be removed. So, disgusting though +they must have tasted to a vegetarian, he set to and +ate them, right down to the sucker, and was loudly +applauded.</p> + +<p>Edward and Harry often talked over how they +would distinguish themselves in the next engagement. +Sometimes they would rehearse it: storm +the galley with uncouth shouts, or spring into +the main rigging and order every one to be +thrown into the sea. Once, as they went into +battle,</p> + +<p>‘I am armed with a sword and a pistol!’ +chanted Edward:</p> + +<p>‘And I am armed with a key and half a whist-le!’ +chanted the more literal Harry.</p> + +<p>They took care to hold those rehearsals when +the real pirates were out of the way: it was not so +much that they feared the criticism of the professional +eye as that it was not yet openly recognised +what they were; and all the children shared<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span> +Emily’s instinct that it was better to pretend not to +know—a sort of magical belief, at bottom.</p> + +<p>Although Laura and Rachel were thrown together +a great deal, and were all one goddess to +Harry, their inner lives differed in almost every +respect. It was a matter of principle, as will have +been noticed, for them to disagree on every point: +but it was a matter of nature too. Rachel had +only two activities. One was domestic. She was +never happy unless surrounded by the full paraphernalia +of a household: she left houses and +families wherever she went. She collected bits of +oakum and the moultings of a worn-out mop, +wrapped them in rags and put them to sleep in +every nook and cranny. <i>Guai</i>, who woke one of +her twenty or thirty babies—worse still, should he +clear it away! She could even summon up +maternal feelings for a marline-spike, and would +sit up aloft rocking it in her arms and crooning. +The sailors avoided walking underneath: for such +an infant, if dropped from a height, will find its +way through the thickest skull (an accident which +sometimes befalls unpopular captains).</p> + +<p>Further, there was hardly an article of ship’s +use, from the windlass to the bosun’s chair, but +she had metamorphosed it into some sort of furniture: +a table or a bed or a lamp or a tea-set: and +marked it as her property: and what she had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span> +marked as her property no one might touch—if +she could prevent it. To parody Hobbes, she +claimed as her own whatever she had mixed her +imagination with; and the greater part of her +time was spent in angry or tearful assertions of +her property-rights.</p> + +<p>Her other interest was moral. She had an +extraordinary vivid, <i>simple</i> sense, that child, of +Right and Wrong—it almost amounted to a precocious +ethical genius. Every action, her own or +any one else’s, was immediately judged good or +bad, and uncompromisingly praised or blamed. +She was never in doubt.</p> + +<p>To Emily, Conscience meant something very +different. She was still only half aware of that +secret criterion within her: but was terrified of it. +She had not Rachel’s clear divination: she never +knew when she might offend this inner harpy, +Conscience, unwittingly: and lived in terror of +those brazen claws, should she ever let it be +hatched from the egg. When she felt its latent +strength stir in its pre-natal sleep, she forced her +mind to other things, and would not even let +herself recognise her fear of it. But she knew, +at the bottom of her heart she <i>knew</i>, that one day +some action of hers would rouse it, something +awful done quite unwittingly would send it raging +round her soul like a whirlwind. She might go<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> +weeks together in a happy unconsciousness, she +might have flashes of vision when she knew she +was God Himself: but at the same time she knew, +beyond all doubt, in her innermost being, that she +was damned, that there never had been any one +as wicked as her since the world began.</p> + +<p>Not so Rachel: to her, Conscience was by no +means so depressing an affair. It was simply a +comfortable mainspring of her life, smooth-working, +as pleasant as a healthy appetite. For instance, +it was now tacitly admitted that all these men were +pirates. That is, they were wicked. It therefore +devolved on her to convert them: and she entered +on her plans for this without a shadow either of +misgiving or reluctance. Her conscience gave +her no pain because it never occurred to her as +conceivable that she should do anything but +follow its dictates, or fail to see them clearly. She +would try and convert these people first: probably +they would reform, but if they did not—well, +she would send for the police. Since either result +was right, it mattered not at all which Circumstance +should call for.</p> + +<p>So much for Rachel. The inside of Laura was +different indeed: something vast, complicated, +and nebulous that can hardly be put into language. +To take a metaphor from tadpoles, though legs +were growing her gills had not yet dropped off.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> +Being nearly four years old, she was certainly a +child: and children are human (if one allows the +term ‘human’ a wide sense): but she had not +altogether ceased to be a baby: and babies of +course are not human—they are animals, and have +a very ancient and ramified culture, as cats have, +and fishes, and even snakes: the same in kind as +these, but much more complicated and vivid, since +babies are, after all, one of the most developed +species of the lower vertebrates.</p> + +<p>In short, babies have minds which work in +terms and categories of their own which cannot be +translated into the terms and categories of the +human mind.</p> + +<p>It is true they look human—but not so human, +to be quite fair, as many monkeys.</p> + +<p>Subconsciously, too, every one recognises they +are animals—why else do people always laugh +when a baby does some action resembling the +human, as they would at a praying mantis? If +the baby was only a less-developed man, there +would be nothing funny in it, surely.</p> + +<p>Possibly a case might be made out that children +are not human either: but I should not accept it. +Agreed that their minds are not just more ignorant +and stupider than ours, but differ in kind of thinking +(are <i>mad</i>, in fact): but one can, by an effort of +will and imagination, think like a child, at least in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span> +partial degree—and even if one’s success is infinitesimal +it invalidates the case: while one can no +more think like a baby, in the smallest respect, +than one can think like a bee.</p> + +<p>How then can one begin to describe the inside +of Laura, where the child-mind lived in the midst +of the familiar relics of the baby-mind, like a +Fascist in Rome?</p> + +<p>When swimming under water, it is a very sobering +thing suddenly to look a large octopus in the +face. One never forgets it: one’s respect, yet +one’s feeling of the hopelessness of any real intellectual +sympathy. One is soon reduced to mere +physical admiration, like any silly painter, of the +cow-like tenderness of the eye, of the beautiful and +infinitesimal mobility of that large and toothless +mouth, which accepts as a matter of course that +very water against which you, for your life’s sake, +must be holding your breath. There he reposes +in a fold of rock, apparently weightless in the clear +green medium but very large, his long arms, +suppler than silk, coiled in repose, or stirring in +recognition of your presence. Far above, everything +is bounded by the surface of the air, like a +bright window of glass. Contact with a small +baby can conjure at least an echo of that feeling in +those who are not obscured by an uprush of +maternity to the brain.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span>Of course it is not really so cut-and-dried as all +this; but often the only way of attempting to +express the truth is to build it up, like a card-house, +of a pack of lies.</p> + +<p>It was only in Laura’s inner mind, however, +that these elaborate vestiges of babyhood remained: +outwardly she appeared fully a child—a +rather reserved, odd, and indeed rather captivating +one. Her face was not pretty, with its heavy eyebrows +and reduced chin: but she had a power of +apt movement, the appropriate attitude for every +occasion, that was most striking. A child who can +show her affection for you, for instance, in the very +way she plants her feet on the ground, has a liberal +gift of that bodily genius called charm. Actually, +this particular one was a rare gesture with her: +nine-tenths of her life being spent in her own head, +she seldom had time to feel at all strongly either +for or against people. The feelings she thus expressed +were generally of a more impersonal kind, +and would have fascinated an admirer of the +ballet: and it was all the more remarkable that she +<i>had</i> developed a dog-like devotion to the reserved +and coarse-looking captain of the pirates.</p> + +<p>No one really contends that children have any +insight into character: their likings are mostly +imaginative, not intuitive. ‘What do you think +I am?’ the exasperated ruffian had asked on a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span> +famous occasion. One might well ask what +Laura thought he was: and there is no means of +knowing.</p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>Pigs grow quickly, quicker even than children: +and much though the latter altered in the first +month on board, the little black porker (whose +name by the by was Thunder) altered even more. +He soon grew to such a size one could not possibly +allow him to lie on one’s stomach any more: so, +as his friendliness did not diminish, the functions +were reversed, and it became a common thing to +find one child, or a whole bench of them, sitting +on his scaly side. They grew very fond of him +indeed (especially Emily), and called him their +Dear Love, their Only Dear, their Own True Heart, +and other names. But he had only two things he +ever said. When his back was being scratched he +enunciated an occasional soft and happy grunt; +and that same phrase (only in a different tone) had +to serve for every other occasion and emotion—except +one. When a particularly heavy lot of +children sat down on him at once, he uttered the +faintest ghost of a little moan, as affecting as the +wind in a very distant chimney, as if the air in him +was being squeezed out through a pinhole.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>One cannot wish for a more comfortable seat +than an acquiescent pig.</p> + +<p>‘If I was the Queen,’ said Emily, ‘I should most +certainly have a pig for a throne.’</p> + +<p>‘Perhaps she has,’ suggested Harry.</p> + +<p>‘He <i>does</i> like being scratched,’ she added presently +in a very sentimental tone, as she rubbed his +scurfy back.</p> + +<p>The mate was watching:</p> + +<p>‘I should think <i>you</i>’d like being scratched, if +your skin was in that condition!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh how dis<span class="allsmcap">GUST</span>ing you are!’ cried Emily, +delighted.</p> + +<p>But the idea took root.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t think I should kiss him quite so much +if I was you,’ Emily presently advised Laura, who +was lying with her arms tight round his neck and +covering his briny snout with kisses from ring +to ears.</p> + +<p>‘My pet! My love!’ murmured Laura, by +way of indirect protest.</p> + +<p>The wily mate had foreseen that some estrangement +would be necessary if they were ever to +have fresh pork served without salt tears. He +intended this to be the thin end of the wedge. +But alas! Laura’s mind was as humoursome an +instrument to play as the Twenty-three-stringed +Lute.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>When dinner-time came, the children mustered +for their soup and biscuit.</p> + +<p>They were not overfed on the schooner: they +were given little that is generally considered wholesome, +or to contain vitamines (unless these lurked +in the aforesaid peck of dirt): but they seemed +none the worse. First the cook boiled the various +non-perishable vegetables they carried in a big pot +together for a couple of hours. Then a lump +of salt beef from the cask forward, having been +rinsed in a little fresh water, was added, and +allowed to simmer with the rest till it was just +cooked. Then it was withdrawn, and the captain +and mate ate their soup first and their meat afterwards, +out of plates, like gentlemen. After that, +if it was a week-day, the meat was put to cool on +the cabin shelf, ready to warm up in to-morrow’s +soup, and the crew and children ate the liquor with +biscuit: but if it was Sunday, the captain took the +lump of meat and with a benevolent air cut it up +in small pieces, as if indeed for a nursery, and +mixed it up with the vegetables in the huge +wooden bowl out of which crew and children all +dipped. It was a very patriarchal way of feeding.</p> + +<p>Even at dinner Margaret did not join the others, +but ate in the cabin; though there were only two +plates on the whole ship. Probably she used the +mate’s when he had finished.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span>Laura and Rachel fought that day to tears over +a particularly succulent piece of yam. Emily let +them. To make those two agree was a task she +was wise not to undertake. Besides, she was very +busy over her own dinner. Edward managed to +silence them, however, by declaring in a most +terrible voice: ‘Shut up or I’ll <span class="allsmcap">SABRE</span> you!’</p> + +<p>Emily’s estrangement from the captain had +reached by now a rather uncomfortable stage. +When these things are fresh and new the two +parties avoid meeting, and all is well: but after +some days they are apt to forget, find themselves +on the point of chatting, and then suddenly remember +that they are not on speaking terms and +have to retire in confusion. Nothing can be more +uncomfortable for a child. The difficulty of effecting +a reconciliation in this case was that both +parties felt wholly in the wrong. Each repented +the impulse of a momentary insanity, and neither +had an inkling the other felt the same: thus each +waited for the other to show signs of forgiveness. +Moreover, while the captain had far the more +serious reason for being ashamed of himself, +Emily was naturally far the more sensitive and +concerned of the two: so it about balanced. +Thus, if Emily rushed blithely up to the captain +embracing a flying-fish, caught his eye and slunk +round the other side of the galley, he put it down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> +to a permanent feeling of condemnation and repulsion: +blushed a deep purple and stared stonily +at his wrinkling mainsail—and Emily wondered if +he was <i>never</i> going to forget that bitten thumb.</p> + +<p>But this afternoon things came to a head. +Laura was trotting about behind him, striking her +attitudes. Edward had at last discovered which +was windward and which was leeward, and had +come hot-foot to learn the first of the Sovereign +Rules of Life: and Emily, with one of her +wretched lapses of memory, was all agog at his +elbow.</p> + +<p>Edward was duly catechised and passed.</p> + +<p>‘Dis is the first rule,’ said the captain: ‘<i>Never +throw anything to windward except hot water or ashes.</i>’</p> + +<p>Edward’s face developed exactly the look of +bewilderment that was intended.</p> + +<p>‘But <i>windward</i> is ...’ he began: ‘I mean, +wouldn’t they blow ...’ then he stopped, wondering +if he had got the terms the right way round +after all. Jonsen was delighted at the success of +this ancient joke. Emily, trying to stand on one +leg, bewildered also, lost her balance and clutched +at Jonsen’s arm. He looked at her—they all +looked at her.</p> + +<p>Much the best way of escaping from an embarrassing +rencontre, when to walk away would be +an impossible strain on the nerves, is to retire in a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span> +series of somersaults. Emily immediately started +turning head over heels up the deck.</p> + +<p>It was very difficult to keep direction, and the +giddiness was appalling; but she <i>must</i> keep it up +till she was out of sight, or die.</p> + +<p>Just then, Rachel, who was up the mainmast, +dropped, for the first time, her marline-spike. +She uttered a terrible shriek—for what <i>she</i> saw was +a baby falling to dash its brains out on the deck.</p> + +<p>Jonsen gave an ineffectual little grunt of alarm—men +can never learn to give a full-bodied scream +like a woman.</p> + +<p>But Emily gave the most desperate yell of all, +though several seconds after the other two: for +the wicked steel stood quivering in the deck, +having gouged a track through her calf on the +way. Her wrought-up nerves and sickening +giddiness joined with the shock and pain to give +a heart-rending poignancy to her crying. Jonsen +was by her in a second, caught her up, and carried +her, sobbing miserably, down into the cabin. +There sat Margaret, bending over some mending, +her slim shoulders hunched up, humming softly +and feeling deadly ill.</p> + +<p>‘Get out!’ said Jonsen, in a low, brutal voice. +Without a word or sign Margaret gathered up her +sewing and climbed on deck.</p> + +<p>Jonsen smeared some Stockholm tar on a rag,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span> +and bound up Emily’s leg with more than a little +skill, though the tar of course was agonising to +her. She had cried herself right out by the time +he laid her in his bunk. When she opened her +streaming eyes and saw him bending over her, +nothing in his clumsy face but concern and an +almost overpowering pity, she was so full of joy +at being at last forgiven that she reached up her +arms and kissed him. He sat down on the locker, +rocking himself backwards and forwards gently. +Emily dozed for a few minutes: when she woke +up he was still there.</p> + +<p>‘Tell me about when you were little,’ she said.</p> + +<p>Jonsen sat on, silent, trying to project his unwieldy +mind back into the past.</p> + +<p>‘When I was a boy,’ he said at last, ‘it wasn’t +thought lucky to grease your own sea-boots. My +Auntie used to grease mine before we went out +with the lugger.’</p> + +<p>He paused for some time.</p> + +<p>‘We divided the fish up into six shares—one +for the boat, and one for each of us.’</p> + +<p>That was all. But it was of the greatest interest +to Emily, and she shortly fell asleep again, +supremely happy.</p> + +<p>So for several days the captain and mate had to +share the latter’s bunk, Box-and-Cox; Heaven +knows what hole Margaret was banished to. The<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> +gash in Emily’s leg was one which would take +some time to heal. To make things worse, the +weather became very unsteady: when she was +awake she was all right, but if she fell asleep she +began to roll about the bunk, and then, of course, +the pain waked her again; which soon reduced +her to a feverish and nervous condition, although +the leg itself was going on as well as could be expected. +The other children, of course, used to +come and see her: but they did not enjoy it much, +as there was nothing to do down in the cabin, once +the novelty of admittance to the Holy Place had +worn off. So their visits were perfunctory and +short. They must have had a high old time at +night, however, by themselves in the fore-hold, +now that the cat was away. They looked like it, +too, in the mornings.</p> + +<p>Otto used sometimes to come and teach her to +make fancy knots, and at the same time pour out +his grievances against the captain: though these +latter were always received with an uncomfortable +silence. Otto was a Viennese by birth, but had +stowed away in a Danube barge when he was ten +years old, had taken to the sea, and thereafter +generally served in English ships. The only place +since his childhood where he had ever spent any +considerable time on shore was Wales. For some +years he had sailed coastwise from the once-promising<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span> +harbour of Portdinlleyn, which is now +practically dead: and so, as well as German, +Spanish, and English, he could talk Welsh fluently. +It was not a long residence, but at an impressionable +age; and when he talked to Emily of his past +it was mostly of his life as a ‘boy’ on the slate-boats. +Captain Jonsen came of a Danish family +settled on the Baltic coast, at Lübeck. He too had +spent most of his time on English ships. How or +when he and Otto had first met, or how they had +drifted into the Cuban piracy business, Emily +never discovered. They had plainly been inseparable +for many years. She preferred letting +them ramble on, to asking questions or trying to +fit things together: she had that sort of mind.</p> + +<p>When the knots palled, José sent her a beautiful +crochet-hook he had carved out of a beef bone: +and by pulling threads out of a piece of sail-cloth +she was able to set to work to crochet doilies for +the cabin table. But I am afraid that she also +drew a lot, till the whole of the inside of the bunk +was soon as thoroughly scribbled over as a palæolithic +cave. What the captain would say when he +found out was a consideration best postponed. +The fun was to find knots, and unevennesses in +the paint, that looked like something; and then +with a pencil to make them look more like it—putting +an eye in the walrus, or supplying the rabbit<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span> +with his missing ear. That is what artists call +having a proper feeling for one’s material.</p> + +<p>Instead of getting better the weather got worse: +and the universe soon became a very unstable place +indeed: it became almost impossible to crochet. +She had to cling on to the side of the bunk all the +time, to prevent her leg getting banged.</p> + +<p>It was in this inconvenient weather, however, +that the pirates chose at last to make another capture. +It turned out not a rich one: a small Dutch +steamer, taking a consignment of performing +animals to one of Mr. Barnum’s predecessors. +The captain of the steamer, who was conceited in +a way that only certain Dutchmen <i>can</i> be conceited, +gave them a lot of trouble, in spite of the +fact that he had practically nothing worth taking. +He was a first-class sailor: but he was very fair, +and had no neck. In the end they had to tie him +up, bring him on board the schooner, and lay him +on the cabin floor where Emily could keep an eye +on him. He reeked of some particularly nauseous +brand of cigars that made her head swim.</p> + +<p>The other children had played quite an important +part in the capture. They did far better as a +badge of innocuousness than even the ‘ladies.’ +The steamer (little more than dressed-up sailing-vessels +they were then), thoroughly disgruntled at +the weather, was wallowing about like a porpoise,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span> +her decks awash and her funnel over one ear, so to +speak: so when a boat put out from the schooner, +its departure cheered lustily by Edward, Harry, +Rachel, and Laura, though his pride might resent +it, the Dutchman never thought of suspecting this +presumable offer of assistance, and let them come +on board.</p> + +<p>It was then he began to give trouble, and they +had to remove him onto the schooner. Their +tempers were none too good on finding their +booty was a lion, a tiger, two bears, and a lot of +monkeys: so it is quite likely they were none too +gentle with him in transit.</p> + +<p>The next thing was to discover whether the +<i>Thelma</i>, like the <i>Clorinda</i>, carried another, a secret +cargo of greater value. They had imprisoned all +the crew, now, aft: so one by one they were +brought up on deck and questioned. But either +there was no money on board, or the crew did not +know of it, or would not tell. Most of them, +indeed, appeared frightened enough to have sold +their grandmothers: but some of them simply +laughed at the pirates’ bogey-bogey business, +guessing they drew the line at murder in cold +blood, sober.</p> + +<p>What was done in each case was the same. +When each man was finished with he was sent +forward and shut in the fo’c’sle: and before bringing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span> +another up from aft one of the pirates would +unmercifully belabour a roll of sail-cloth with a +cat-o’-nine-tails while another yelled like the +damned. Then a shot was fired in the air, and +something thrown overboard to make a splash. +All this, of course, was to impress those still down +in the cabin awaiting their turns: and the pretence +was quite as effective as the reality could have +been. But it did no good, since probably there +was no treasure to disclose.</p> + +<p>There was, however, a plentiful supply of Dutch +spirits and liqueurs on board: and these the +pirates found a welcome change after so much +West Indian rum.</p> + +<p>After they had been drinking them for an hour +or two Otto had a brilliant idea. Why not give +the children a circus? They had begged and +begged to be taken onto the steamer to see the +animals. Well, why not stage something really +magnificent for them—a fight between the lion +and the tiger, for instance?</p> + +<p>No sooner said than done. The children, and +every man who could be spared, came onto the +steamer, and took up positions at safe heights in +the rigging. The cargo-gaff was rigged, the hatch +opened, and the two iron cages, with their stale +cat-like reek, were hauled up on deck. Then the +little Malay keepers, who kept twittering to each<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span> +other in their windy tones, were made to open +them, that the two monarchs of the jungle might +come out and do battle.</p> + +<p>How they were to be got in again was a question +that never occurred to any one’s consideration. +Yet it is generally supposed to be easier to let +tigers out of cages than to put them back.</p> + +<p>In this case, however, even when the cages were +open, neither of the beasts seemed very anxious to +get out. They lay on the floor growling (or +groaning) slightly, but making no move except to +roll their eyes.</p> + +<p>It was very unfortunate for poor Emily that she +was missing all this, laid by the leg in Jonsen’s +stuffy cabin with the Dutch captain to guard.</p> + +<p>When at first they had been left alone together +he had tried to speak to her: but unlike so many +Dutchmen he did not know a word of English. +He could just move his head, and he kept turning +his eyes first on a very sharp knife which some +idiot had dropped in a corner of the cabin floor, +then on Emily. He was asking her to get it for +him, of course.</p> + +<p>But Emily was terrified of him. There is something +much more frightening about a man who is +tied up than a man who is not tied up—I suppose +it is the fear he may get loose.</p> + +<p>The feeling of not being able to get out of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span> +the bunk and escape added the true nightmare +panic.</p> + +<p>Remember that he had no neck, and the cigar-reek.</p> + +<p>At last he must have caught the look of fear and +disgust in her face, where he had expected compassion. +He began to act for himself. First +gently rocking his bound body from side to side, +he set himself to roll.</p> + +<p>Emily screamed for help, beating with her fist +on the bunk: but none came. Even the sailors +who were left on board were out of ear-shot: they +were straining all their attention to see what was +happening on the steamer that wallowed and +heaved seventy yards away. There, one of the +pirates, greatly daring, had descended to the rail +and begun throwing belaying-pins at the cages, to +rouse their occupants. If the beasts so much as +lashed their tails in response, however, he would +scuttle up any rope like a frightened mouse. Only +the Malay keepers remained permanently on deck, +taking no notice: sitting on their heels in a ring +and crooning discordantly through their noses. +Probably they felt inside much as the lion and +tiger did.</p> + +<p>After some minutes, however, the pirates grew +bolder. Otto came right up to one cage, and +started poking the tiger’s ribs with a hand-spike.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span> +But the poor beast was far too sea-sick to be roused +even by that. Gradually the whole crowd of the +spectators descended onto the deck and stood +round, still not unprepared to bolt, while the +drunk mate, and even Captain Jonsen (who was +perfectly sober), goaded and jeered.</p> + +<p>It was not surprising no one heard poor Emily, +left alone in the cabin with the terrible Dutchman.</p> + +<p>She screamed and screamed: but there was no +awakening from <i>this</i> nightmare.</p> + +<p>By now he had managed to roll himself, in spite +of the motion of the vessel, almost within reach of +the coveted knife. The veins on his forehead +stood out with his exertion and the stricture of his +bonds. His fingers were groping, behind his +back, for the edge.</p> + +<p>Emily, beside herself with terror, suddenly +became possessed by the strength of despair. In +spite of the agony it caused her leg she flung herself +out of the bunk, and just managed to seize the +knife before he could manœuvre his bound hands +within reach of it.</p> + +<p>In the course of the next five seconds she had +slashed and jabbed at him in a dozen places: then, +flinging the knife towards the door, somehow +managed to struggle back into the bunk.</p> + +<p>The Dutchman, bleeding rapidly, blinded with +his own blood, lay still and groaned. Emily, her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span> +own wound reopened, and overcome with pain +and terror, fainted. The knife, flung wildly, +missed its aim and clattered down the steps again +onto the cabin floor: and the first witness of the +scene was Margaret, who presently peered down +from the deck above, her dulled eyes standing out +from her small, skull-like face.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>As for Jonsen and Otto, unable by other means +to rouse the dormant animals, they collected their +men and with big levers managed to tilt the cages, +spilling the beasts out onto the deck.</p> + +<p>But not even so would they fight—or even +show signs of resentment. As they had lain and +groaned in their cages, so they now lay and +groaned on the deck.</p> + +<p>They were small specimens of their kind, and +emaciated by travel. Otto with a sudden oath +seized the tiger round its middle and hauled it +upright on its hind legs: Jonsen did the same by +the more top-heavy lion: and so the two principals +to the duel faced each other, their heads +lolling over the arms of their seconds.</p> + +<p>But in the eyes of the tiger a slight ember of +consciousness seemed to smoulder. Suddenly it +tautened its muscles: a slight effort, yet it burst +from the merely human grip of Otto like Samson +from the new ropes—nearly dislocated his arms<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span> +before he had time to let go. Quicker than eye +could see, it had cuffed him, rending half his face. +Tigers are no plaything. Jonsen dropped the +huge bulk of the lion on top of it, and escaped +with Otto through an open door: while the +pirates, tumbling over each other like people in +a burning theatre, struggled to get back in the +rigging.</p> + +<p>The lion rolled clear. The tiger, lurching unsteadily, +crept back into its cage. The keening +Malays took no notice of the whole scene.</p> + +<p>And yet, what a scene it had been!</p> + +<p>But now the heroic circus was over. Chastened, +bruised by each other in their panic, the +drunken pirates helped the mate into the first of +the two boats, and pulling helter-skelter in the +choppy sea, returned to the schooner. One by +one they climbed the rail and vaulted on deck.</p> + +<p>Sailors have keen noses. They smelt blood at +once, and crowded round the companion-way: +where Margaret still sat, as if numb, on the top +step.</p> + +<p>Emily lay in the bunk below, her eyes shut—conscious +again, but her eyes shut.</p> + +<p>The Dutch captain they could see on the floor, +stretched in a pool of blood. ‘<i>But, Gentlemen, I +have a wife and children!</i>’ he suddenly said in +Dutch, in a surprised and gentle tone: then died,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span> +not so much of any mortal wound as of the number +of superficial gashes he had received.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>It was plainly Margaret who had done it—killed +a bound, defenceless man, for no reason at +all; and now sat watching him die, with her dull, +meaningless stare.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 8</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE contempt they already felt for Margaret, +their complete lack of pity in her +obvious illness and misery, had been in +direct proportion to the childhood she had belied.</p> + +<p>This crime would have seemed to them grave +on the part of a grown man, in its unrelieved +wantonness: but done by one of her years, and +nurture, it was unspeakable. She was lifted by +the arms from the stair where she still sat, and +without a moment’s hesitation (other than that +resulting from too many helping hands) was +dropped into the sea.</p> + +<p>But yet the expression of her face, as—like the +big white pig in the squall—she vanished to windward, +left a picture in Otto’s mind he never forgot. +She was, after all, his affair.</p> + +<p>The Dutchman’s body was fetched up on deck. +Captain Jonsen went below: and once bent over +poor little Emily. She only screwed up her eyes +tighter, when she felt his hot breath on her face. +She did not open them till everybody had quite +gone—and shut them again when presently José +came to swab the cabin floor.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>The second boat, bringing back the rest of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span> +crew and the four children, almost ran into Margaret +before they saw her. She was swimming +desperately, but in complete silence: her hair now +plastered across her eyes and mouth, now floating +out on the water as her head went under. They +lifted her into the boat and set her in the stern-sheets +with the other children. So it was they +found themselves together again.</p> + +<p>In her sopping condition, the others naturally +gave her elbow-room: but still, she was among +them. They sat and stared at her, their eyes very +wide and serious, but without speaking. Margaret, +her teeth chattering with exhaustion, tried +ineffectually to wring out the hem of her frock. +She did not speak either: but nevertheless it was +not long before both she and the other children +felt a sort of thaw setting in between them.</p> + +<p>As to the oarsmen, they never troubled their +heads as to how she came in the water. They +supposed she had accidentally slipped over the +side: but were not particularly interested, especially +as they had their work cut out manœuvring +round to the schooner’s lee and clambering on +board. There was a tremendous pow-wow going +on aft, so that no one noticed them arrive.</p> + +<p>Once on board, Margaret went straight forward +as of old, climbed down the ladder into the fore-hold +and undressed, the other children watching<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> +her every movement with an unfeigned interest. +Then she rolled herself in a blanket, and lay +down.</p> + +<p>They none of them noticed quite how it happened: +but in less than half an hour they were all +five absorbed in a game of Consequences. Presently +one of the crew came, peered down the hatch +and then shouted ‘Yes!’ to the rest, and then +went away again. But they neither saw nor +heard him.</p> + +<p>From now on, however, the atmosphere of the +schooner suffered a change. A murder is inclined +to have this effect on a small community. As a +matter of fact, the Dutch captain’s was the first +blood to be shed on board, in the course of business +at any rate (I will not answer for private +quarrels). The way it had been shed left the +pirates profoundly shocked, their eyes opened to +a depravity of human nature they had not dreamt +of: but also it gave them an uncomfortable feeling +round the neck. So long as there was only the +circus-prank to avenge, no American man-of-war +was likely to be despatched in their pursuit: high +Naval Authorities shrink naturally from any contact +with the ridiculous: but suppose the steamer +put into port, and announced the forcible abduction +of her captain? Or worse, suppose her +mate, with an accursed spy-glass, had seen that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span> +captain’s bloody body take its last dive? Pursuit +would be only too likely.</p> + +<p>The plea ‘It was none of us men did this wicked +deed, but one of our young female prisoners,’ was +hardly one which could be submitted to a jury.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonsen had discovered from the steamer’s +log where he was: so he put the schooner about, +and set a course for his refuge at Santa Lucia. It +was unlikely, he thought, now, that any British +man-of-war would still be cruising about the scene +of the <i>Clorinda</i> episode—they had too much to do: +and he had reasons (fairly expensive ones) for not +anticipating any molestation from the Spanish +authorities. He did not like going home with +an empty ship, of course: but that appeared +inevitable.</p> + +<p>The outward sign of this change in the atmosphere +of the schooner was a spontaneous increase +in the strictness of discipline. Not a drop of rum +was drunk. Watch was kept with the regularity +of a line-of-battle ship. The schooner became +tidier, more seamanlike in every way.</p> + +<p>Thunder was slain and eaten the next day, +without any regard for the feelings of his lovers: +indeed, all tenderness towards the children vanished. +Even José ceased playing with them. +They were treated with a detached severity not +wholly divorced from fear—as if these unfortunate<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span> +men at last realised what diabolic yeast had been +introduced into their lump.</p> + +<p>So sensible were the children themselves of the +change that they even forgot to mourn for +Thunder—excepting Laura, whose face burned +an angry red for half a day.</p> + +<p>But the ship’s monkey, on the other hand, with +no pig now to tease, nearly died of ennui.</p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>The reopening of the wound in her leg made it +several days more before Emily was fit to be +moved from the cabin. During this time she was +much alone. Jonsen and Otto seldom came +below, and when they did were too preoccupied +to heed her blandishing. She sang, and conversed +to herself, almost incessantly; only interrupting +herself to beseech these two, with a superfluity of +endearments, to pick up her crochet-hook, to look +at the animal she had built out of her blanket, to +tell her a story, to tell her what naughty things +they did when they were little—how unlike Emily +it was, all this gross bidding for attention! But +as a rule they went away again, or went to sleep, +without taking the least notice of her.</p> + +<p>As well, she told herself, <i>to</i> herself, endless<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span> +stories: as many as there are in <i>The Arabian +Nights</i>, and quite as involved. But the strings of +words she used to utter aloud had nothing to do +with this: I mean, that when she made a sort of +narrative noise (which was often), she did it for +the noise’s sake: the silent, private formation of +sentences and scenes, in one’s head, is far preferable +for real story-telling. If you had been +watching her then, unseen, you could only have +told she was doing it by the dramatic expressions +of her face, and her restless flexing and tossing—and +if she had had the slightest inkling you were +there, the audible rigmarole would have started +again. (No one who has private thoughts going +on loudly in his own head is quite sure of their not +being overheard unless he is providing something +else to occupy foreign ears.)</p> + +<p>When she sang, however, it was always wordless: +an endless succession of notes, like a bird’s, +fixed to the first vocable handy, and practically +without tune. Not being musical, there was +never any reason for her to stop: so one song +would often go on for half an hour.</p> + +<p>Although José had scrubbed the cabin floor as +well as he could, a large stain still remained.</p> + +<p>At times she let her mind wander about, quite +peacefully, in her memories of Jamaica: a period +which now seemed to her very remote, a golden<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span> +age. How young she must have been! When +her imagination grew tired, too, she could recall +the Anansi stories Old Sam had told her: and they +often proved the point of departure for new ones +of her own.</p> + +<p>Also she could remember the creepy things he +had told her about duppies. <i>How</i> they used to +tease the negroes about the supposed duppy at +the bathing-hole, the duppy of the drowned man! +It gave one an enormous sense of power, that—not +to believe in duppies.</p> + +<p>But she found herself taking much less pleasure +in duppies now than she used.</p> + +<p>She even once caught herself wondering what +the Dutchman’s duppy would look like, all bloody, +with its head turned backwards on its shoulders +and clanking a chain ... it was a momentary flash, +the way the banished image of Tabby had come +back to her. For a moment her head reeled: in +another she was far from Jamaica, far from the +schooner, far from duppies, on a golden throne +in the remotest East.</p> + +<p>The other children were no longer allowed in +the cabin to visit her: but when she heard their +feet scampering overhead, she often conversed +with them in loud yells. One of these yells from +above told her:</p> + +<p>‘Marghie’s back, you know.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>‘O-oh.’</p> + +<p>After that Emily was silent for a bit, her beautiful, +innocent grey eyes fixed on the ear of a dwarf +at the end of her bunk. Only the slight pucker +at the top of her nose showed with what intensity +she was thinking: and the minute drops of sweat +on her temples.</p> + +<p>But it was not only when there was some outward +occasion, like this, that she suffered acute +distress.</p> + +<p>Froth as she might, those times of consciousness, +which had begun with a moment of such +sublime vision, were both growing on her and +losing their lustre. They were become sinister. +Life threatened to be no longer an incessant, automatic +discharge of energy: more and more often, +and when least expected, all that would suddenly +drop from her, and she would remember that she +was <i>Emily</i>, who had killed ... and who was <i>here</i> +... and that Heaven alone knew what was going +to happen to the incompetent little thing, by what +miracle she was going to keep her end up.... +Whenever this happened, her stomach seemed to +drop away within her a hundred and fifty feet.</p> + +<p>She, like Laura, had one foot each side of a +threshold now. As a piece of Nature, she was +practically invulnerable. But as <i>Emily</i>, she was +absolutely naked, tender. It was particularly cruel<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span> +that this transition should come when so fierce a +blast was blowing.</p> + +<p>For mark this: any one in bed, with a blanket +up to her chin, is in a measure safe. She might go +through abysms of terror; but once these passed, +no practical harm had been done. But once she +was up and about? Suppose it was at some +crisis, some call to action, that her Time came on +her? What appalling blunder could she fail +to make?</p> + +<p>Oh why must she grow up? Why, for pity’s +sake?</p> + +<p>Quite apart from these attacks of blind, secret +panic, she had other times of an ordinary, very +rational anxiety. She was ten and a half now. +What sort of future lay before her, what career? +(Their mother had implanted in them young, as a +matter of principle, girls and boys alike, the idea +that they would one day have to earn their own +livings.) I say she was ten and a half: but it +seemed such ages since she had come on the +schooner that she thought she was probably older +even than that.—Now this life was full of interest: +but was it, she asked herself, a really useful education? +What did it fit her for? Plainly, it taught +her nothing but to be a sort of pirate too (what sort +of a pirate, being a girl, was a problem in itself). +But as time slipped by, it became clearer and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span> +clearer that every other life would be impossible +for her—indeed, for all of them.</p> + +<p>Gone, alas, was any shred of confidence that she +was God. That particular, supreme career was +closed to her. But the conviction that she was the +wickedest person who had ever been born, this +would not die for much longer. Some appalling +Power had determined it: it was no good struggling +against it. Had she not already committed +the most awful of crimes ... the most awful of +crimes, though, that was not murder, that was the +mysterious crime against the Holy Ghost, which +dwarfed even murder ... had she, unwittingly, at +some time committed this too? She so easily +might have, since she did not know what it was. +And if that were so, no wonder the pity of Heaven +was sealed against her!</p> + +<p>So the poor little outcast lay shivering and +sweating under her blanket, her gentle eyes fixed +on the ear of the dwarf she had drawn.</p> + +<p>But presently she was singing again happily, and +hanging right out of the bunk to outline in pencil +the brown stain on the floor. A touch here, a +touch there, and it was an old market-woman to +the life, hobbling along with a bundle on her +back! I admit that it staggered even Otto a bit +when he came in later and saw what she had done.</p> + +<p>But when again she lay still on her back, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span> +contemplated the practical difficulties of the life +ahead of her (even leaving God and her Soul and +all that on one side), she had not the support of +Edward’s happy optimism: she was old enough to +know how helpless she really was. How should +she, dependent now for her very life on the kindness +of those around her, how should she ever +acquire the wit and strength to struggle against +them and their kind?</p> + +<p>She had developed by this time a rather curious +feeling about Jonsen and Otto. In the first place, +she had become very fond of them. Children, it +is true, have a way of becoming more or less +attached to any one they are in close contact with: +but it was more than that, deeper. She was far +fonder of them than she had ever been of her +parents, for instance. They, for their part, showed +every mild sign consonant with their natures of +being fond of her: but how could she <i>know</i>? It +would be so easy for adult things like them to dissemble +to her, she felt. Suppose they really intended +to kill her: they could so easily hide it: +they would behave with exactly this same kindness +... I suppose this was the reflection of her own +instinct for secretiveness?</p> + +<p>When she heard the captain’s step on the +stairs, it might be that he was bringing her a +plate of soup, or it might be that he had come to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span> +kill her—suddenly, with no warning change of +expression on his amiable face even at the very +end.</p> + +<p>If that was his intention, there was nothing whatever +she could do to hinder him. To scream, +struggle, attempt flight—they would be absolutely +useless, and—well, a breach of decorum. If he +chose to keep up appearances, it behoved her to do +so too. If he showed no sign of his intention, she +must show no sign of her inkling of it.</p> + +<p>That was why, when either of them came below, +she would sing on, smile at him impishly and confidently, +actually plague him for notice.</p> + +<p>She was a little fonder of Jonsen than of Otto. +Ordinarily, any coarseness or malformity of adult +flesh is in the highest degree repulsive to a child: +but the cracks and scars on Jonsen’s enormous +hands were as interesting to her as the valleys on +the moon to a boy with a telescope. As he +clumsily handled his parallel rulers and dividers, +fitting them with infinite care to the marks on his +chart, Emily would lie on her side and explore +them, give them all names.</p> + +<p><i>Why</i> must she grow up? <i>Why</i> couldn’t she +leave her life always in other people’s keeping, to +order as if it was no concern of hers?</p> + +<p>Most children have something of this feeling. +With most children it is outweighed: still, they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> +will generally hesitate before telling you they +prefer to grow up. But then, most children live +secure lives, and have an at least apparently secure +future to grow up to. To have already murdered +a full-sized man, and to have to keep it for ever +secret, is not a normal background for a child of +ten: to have a Margaret one could not altogether +banish from one’s thoughts: to see every ordinary +avenue of life locked against one, only a violent +road, leading to Hell, open.</p> + +<p>She was still on the border-line: so often Child +still, and nothing but Child ... it needed little conjuring +... Anansi and the Blackbird, Genies and +golden thrones....</p> + +<p>Which is all a rather groping attempt to explain +a curious fact: that Emily appeared—indeed +<i>was</i> rather young for her age: and that this was +due to, not in spite of, the adventures she had +been through.</p> + +<p>But this youngness, it burnt with an intenser +flame. She had never yelled so loud at Ferndale, +for sheer pleasure in her own voice, as now she +yelled in the schooner’s cabin, carolling like a +larger, fiercer lark.</p> + +<p>Neither Jonsen nor Otto were nervous men: +but the din she made sometimes drove them almost +distracted. It was very little use telling her to +shut up: she only remembered for such a short<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> +time. In a minute she was whispering, in two she +was talking, in five her voice was in full blast.</p> + +<p>Jonsen was himself a man who seldom spoke to +any one. His companionship with Otto, though +devoted, was a singularly silent one. But when +he did speak, he hated not to be able to make himself +heard at all: even when, as was usual, it was +himself he was talking to.</p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>Otto was at the wheel (there was hardly one of +the crew fit to steer). His lively mind was occupied +with Santa Lucia, and his young lady there. +Jonsen slipper-sloppered up and down his side of +the deck.</p> + +<p>Presently, his interest in his subject waning, +Otto’s eye was caught by the ship’s monkey, which +was sporting on its back on the cabin skylight.</p> + +<p>That animal, with the same ingenious adaptability +to circumstance which has produced the +human race, had now solved the playmate question. +As a gambler will play left hand against right, so +he fought back legs against front. His extraordinary +lissomness made the dissociation most +lifelike: he might not have been joined at the +waist at all, for all the junction discommoded him.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span> +The battle, if good-tempered on both sides, was +quite a serious one: now, while his hind feet were +doing their best to pick out his eyes, his sharp +little teeth closed viciously on his own private +parts.</p> + +<p>From below the skylight, too, came tears and +cries for help that one might easily have taken for +real if they had not been occasionally interrupted +by such phrases as ‘It’s no good: I shall cut off +your head just the same!’</p> + +<p>Captain Jonsen was thinking about a little house +in far-off, shadowy Lübeck—with a china stove +... it didn’t do to talk about retiring: above all, +one must never say aloud ‘This is my last voyage,’ +even addressing oneself. The sea has an ironic +way of interpreting it in her own fashion, if you +do. Jonsen had seen too many skippers sail on +their ‘last voyage’—and never return.</p> + +<p>He felt acutely melancholy, not very far from +tears: and presently he went below. He wanted +to be alone.</p> + +<p>Emily by now was conducting, in her head, a +secret conversation with John. She had never +done so before: but to-day he had suddenly presented +himself to her imagination. Of course his +disappearance was strictly taboo between them: +what they chiefly discussed was the building of +a magnificent raft, to use in the bathing-hole<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span> +at Ferndale; just as if they had never left the +place.</p> + +<p>When she heard the captain’s step, so nearly +surprising her at it, she blushed a deep red. She +felt her cheeks still hot when he arrived. As usual, +he did not even glance at her. He plumped down +on a seat, put his elbows on the cabin table, his +head in his hands, and rocked it rhythmically +from side to side.</p> + +<p>‘Look, Captain!’ she insisted. ‘Do I look +pretty like this? Look! <i>Look!</i> Look, <i>do</i> I +look pretty like this?’</p> + +<p>For once he raised his head, turned, and considered +her at length. She had rolled up her +eyes till only the whites showed, and turned her +under lip inside out. With her first finger she +was squashing her nose almost level with her +cheeks.</p> + +<p>‘No,’ he said simply, ‘you do not.’ Then he +returned to his cogitation.</p> + +<p>She stuck out her tongue as well, and waggled it.</p> + +<p>‘Look!’ she went on, ‘Look!’</p> + +<p>But instead of looking at her, he let his eye +wander round the cabin. It seemed changed +somehow—emasculated: a little girl’s bedroom, +not a man’s cabin. The actual physical changes +were tiny: but to a meticulous man they glared. +The whole place smelt of children.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>Unable to contain himself, he crammed on his +cap and burst up the stairs.</p> + +<p>On deck, the others were romping round the +binnacle, wildly excited.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Damn!</i>’ cried Jonsen at the sight of them, +stamping in an ungovernable rage.</p> + +<p>Of course his slippers came off, and one of them +skiddered up the deck.</p> + +<p>What devil entered into Edward I do not know: +but the sight was too much for him. He seized +the slipper and rushed off with it, shrieking with +delight. Jonsen roared at him: he passed it to +Laura, and was soon dancing up and down at the +end of the jib-boom. Edward, of all people! +The timid, respectful Edward!</p> + +<p>Laura could hardly carry the enormous thing: +but she clasped it tight in her arms, lowered her +head, and with the purposeful air of a rugger-player +ran back with it very fast up the deck, +apparently straight into Jonsen’s arms. At the +last moment she dodged him neatly: continued +right on past Otto at the wheel, just as serious and +just as fast, and forward again on the port-side. +Jonsen, no quick mover at any time, stood in his +socks and roared himself hoarse. Otto was shaking +with laughter like a jelly.</p> + +<p>This mad intoxication, which had flashed from +child to child, now dropped a spark into the crew.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span> +They were already peering excitedly from the +fo’c’sle hatch, grins struggling with outrage for +pride of place: but at this point they broke into a +cheer. Then, like the devils in a pantomime, they +all sank together through the floor, aghast at themselves, +and pulled the scuttle over their heads.</p> + +<p>Laura, still hugging the slipper, caught her toe +in an eye-bolt and fell full length, set up a yell.</p> + +<p>Otto, with a suddenly straight face, ran forward, +picked up the slipper and returned it to Jonsen, +who put it on. Edward stopped jumping up and +down and became frightened.</p> + +<p>Jonsen was trembling with rage. He advanced +on Edward with an iron belaying-pin in his hand.</p> + +<p>‘Come down from there!’ he commanded.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!’ cried Edward, +not moving. Harry suddenly ran and hid himself +in the galley, though he had had no part +in it.</p> + +<p>With a surprising agility which he rarely used, +Jonsen started out along the bowsprit towards +Edward, who did nothing but moan ‘Don’t!’ at +the sight of that murderous belaying-pin. When +Jonsen was just on him, however, he swarmed up +a stay, helping himself with the iron hanks of +the jib.</p> + +<p>Jonsen returned to the deck, wringing his hands +and angrier than ever. He sent a sailor to the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span> +cross-trees to head the boy off and drive him down +again.</p> + +<p>Indeed, but for an extraordinary diversion, I +shudder to think what might have happened to +him. But just at this moment there appeared, up +the ladder from the children’s fore-hold, Rachel. +She wore one of the sailors’ shirts, back to front, +and reaching to her heels: in her hand, a book. +She was singing ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers’ at +the top of her voice. But as soon as she reached +the deck she became silent: strutted straight aft, +looking neither to right nor left, genuflected to +Otto at the wheel, and then sat herself down on a +wooden bucket.</p> + +<p>Every one, Jonsen included, stood petrified. +After a moment of silent prayer she arose, and +commenced an inarticulate gabble-gabble which +reproduced extraordinarily well the sound of what +she used to hear in the little church at St. Anne’s, +where the whole family went one Sunday in each +month.</p> + +<p>Rachel’s religious revival had begun. It could +hardly have been more opportune: who shall say +it was not Heaven which had chosen the moment +for her?</p> + +<p>Otto, entering into the thing at once, rolled up +his eyes and spread out his arms, cross-wise, +against the wheel-house at his back.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>Jonsen, rapidly recovering some of his temper, +strode up to her. Her imitation was admirable. +For a few moments he listened in silence. He +wavered: should he laugh? Then what remained +of his temper prevailed.</p> + +<p>‘Rachel!’ he rebuked.</p> + +<p>She continued, almost without taking breath, +‘Gabble-gabble, Bretheren, gabble-gabble.’</p> + +<p>‘I am not a religious man myself,’ said the captain, +‘but I will not allow religion to be made a +mock of on my ship!’</p> + +<p>He caught hold of Rachel.</p> + +<p>‘Gabble-gabble!’ she went on, slightly faster +and on a higher note. ‘Let me alone! Gabble-gabble! +Amen! Gabble....’</p> + +<p>But he sat himself on the bucket, and stretched +her over his knee.</p> + +<p>‘You’re a wicked pirate! You’ll go to +Hell!’ she shrieked, breaking at last into the +articulate.</p> + +<p>Then he began to smack her; so hard that +she screamed almost as much with pain as with +rage.</p> + +<p>When at last he set her down, her face was swollen +and purple. She directed a tornado of punches +with her little fists against his knees, crying ‘Hell! +Hell! Hell!’ in a strangulated voice.</p> + +<p>He flipped her fists aside with his hand, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> +presently she went away, so tired with crying she +could hardly get her breath.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, Laura’s behaviour had been characteristic. +When she tripped and fell, she roared +till her bumps ceased hurting. Then, with no +perceptible transition, her convulsions of agony +became an attempt to stand on her head. This she +kept up throughout Edward’s flight up the stay, +throughout the electric appearance of Rachel. +During the latter’s punishment, having happened +to topple in the direction of the mainmast, and +finding her feet against the rack round its base for +belaying the halyards to, she gave a tremendous +shove off—she would roll instead. And roll she +did, very rapidly, till she arrived at the captain’s +feet. There she lay all the while he was smacking +Rachel, completely unconcerned, on her back, her +knees drawn up to her chin, humming a little tune.</p> + +<h3>iv</h3> + +<p>When Emily returned to the fore-hold, her first +act was one which greatly complicated life. As if +there was not sea enough already outside the ship, +she decreed that practically all the deck was sea +also. The main-hatch was an island, of course; +and there were others—chiefly natural excrescences<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> +of the same kind. But all the rest, all the open +deck, could only be safely crossed in a boat, or +swimming.</p> + +<p>As to who was in a boat and who wasn’t, Emily +decided that herself. No one ever knew till she +had been asked. But Laura, once she had got the +main idea into her head, always swam, whether +said to be in a boat or not—to be on the safe side.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Isn’t</i> she silly?’ said Edward once, when she +refused to stop working her arms although they +had all told her she was safe on board.</p> + +<p>‘I expect we were all as silly as that when we +were young,’ said Harry.</p> + +<p>It was a source of consternation to the children +that none of the grown-ups would recognise this +‘sea.’ The sailors trod carelessly on the deepest +oceans, refusing so much as to paddle with their +hands. But it was equally irritating to the sailors +when the children, either safe on an island or bearing +down in a vessel of their own, would scream +at them in a tone of complete conviction:</p> + +<p>‘You’re drowning! You’re drowning! +O-o-oh, look out! You’re out of your depth +there! The sharks’ll eat you!’</p> + +<p>‘O-oh look! Miguel’s sinking! The waves +are right over his head!’</p> + +<p>That happens to be the one sort of joke sailors +can’t enjoy. Even though the words were unintelligible,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> +their gist—eked out by the slightly +malicious hints of the mate—was not. If they +steadily refused to swim, they at least took to +crossing themselves fervently and continuously +whenever they had to traverse a piece of open +deck. For there was no way one could be certain +that these brats were not gifted with second sight—<i>hijos +de puntas</i>!</p> + +<p>What the children were really doing, of course, +was trying out what it would feel like when they +themselves were all grown pirates, running a joint +venture or each with a craft of his own: and +though they never so much as mentioned piracy in +the course of these public navigations, they talked +their heads off about it at night now.</p> + +<p>Margaret also refused to swim: but they knew +by now it was no good trying to make her: no +good yelling at <i>her</i> she was drowning, for all she +did at that word was to sit down and cry. So it +became a recognised convention that Margaret, +wherever she went or whatever she was doing, +was on a raft, with a keg of biscuit and a barrel of +water, by herself—and could be ignored.</p> + +<p>For, since her return, she had become very dull +company. That one game of Consequences had +been a flash in the pan. For several days after it +she had remained in bed, hardly speaking, and +inclined to tear strips off her blanket when she was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span> +asleep: and even when she was about again, though +perfectly amiable—more amiable than before—she +refused to join in any game whatever. She seemed +happy: but for any imaginative purpose she was +useless.</p> + +<p>Moreover, she made no attempt to regain the +sovereignty to which Emily had succeeded. She +never ordered any one about. There was not +even any fun to be got out of baiting her: nothing +seemed to ruffle her temper. She was sometimes +treated with a good-humoured contempt, sometimes +ignored altogether: and it was enough for +<i>her</i> to say something for it to be automatically +voted silly.</p> + +<p>Rachel also, for several days after her service, +showed no disposition to join with the others. +She preferred to sit about below, sulking, in the +hold. From time to time she attempted to pick +a hole, with a copper nail she had got hold of, +in the bottom of the ship, and so sink it. It +was Laura who discovered her purpose, and came +hot-foot to Emily with the news. Laura never +doubted, any more than Rachel did, that the task +was a possible one.</p> + +<p>Emily came below and found her at it. After +three days, she had only managed to scratch up +one single splinter—partly because she never +attacked the same place twice: but both she and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> +Laura expected to see quantities of water come +welling through and rapidly fill the ship. Indeed, +though no water had yet appeared, Laura +was convinced the ship was already perceptibly +lowered as a result of Rachel’s efforts.</p> + +<p>Laura clasped her hands in expectation, waiting +to see what Emily would do in the face of this +impending disaster.</p> + +<p>‘You stupid, <i>that’s</i> no good!’ was all Emily’s +comment.</p> + +<p>Rachel looked at her angrily:</p> + +<p>‘You leave me alone! I know what I am +doing!’</p> + +<p>Emily’s eyes grew very wide, and danced with +a strange light.</p> + +<p>‘If you talk to me like that, I’ll have you +hanged from the yard-arm!’</p> + +<p>‘What’s <i>that</i>?’ asked Rachel sulkily.</p> + +<p>‘You ought to know which is the yard-arm by +now!’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t care!’ growled Rachel, and went on +scratching with her nail.</p> + +<p>Emily picked up a big piece of iron, in a corner, +so heavy she could hardly carry it:</p> + +<p>‘Do you know what I’m going to do?’ she +asked in a strange voice.</p> + +<p>At the sound of it Rachel stopped scratching +and looked up.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>‘No,’ she said, a trifle uneasily.</p> + +<p>‘I’m going to kill you! I’m turned a pirate, +and I’m going to kill you with this sword!’</p> + +<p>At the word ‘sword,’ the misshapen lump of +metal seemed to Rachel to flicker to a sharp, wicked +point.</p> + +<p>She looked Emily in the eyes, doubtfully. Did +she mean it, or was it a game?</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, she had always been a little +afraid of Emily. Emily was so huge, so strong, +so old (as good as grown up), so cunning! Emily +was the cleverest, the most powerful person in the +world! The muscles of a giant, the ancient experience +of a serpent!—And now, her terrible +eyes, with no hint in them of pretence.</p> + +<p>Emily glared fixedly, and saw real panic dawn in +Rachel’s face. Suddenly the latter turned, and as +fast as her short fat legs would carry her began to +swarm up the ladder. Emily rang her iron once +against it, and Rachel nearly tumbled down again +in her haste.</p> + +<p>The iron was so big and heavy it took Emily a +long time to haul it up on deck. Even when that +was done, it greatly impeded her running, so that +she and Rachel did three laps round the deck without +their distances altering much, cheered boisterously +by Edward. Even in her terror Rachel did +not forget to work her arms as in breast-stroke.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span> +Finally, with a cry of ‘Oh, I can’t run any more, +my bad leg’s hurting!’ Emily flung down the +iron and dropped panting beside Edward on the +main-hatch.</p> + +<p>‘I shall put poison in your dinner!’ she +shouted cheerfully to Rachel: but the latter retreated +behind the windlass and began to nurse +with an abandoned devotion the particular brood +she had parked there, working herself almost to +tears with the depth of her maternal pity for them.</p> + +<p>Emily went on chuckling for some time at the +memory of her sport.</p> + +<p>‘What’s the matter with you?’ asked Edward +scornfully, puffing out his chest. He was feeling +particularly manly at the moment. ‘Have you +got the giggles?’</p> + +<p>‘I <i>like</i> having the giggles,’ said Emily disarmingly. +‘Let’s see if we can’t all get them. Come +on, Laura! Harry, come!’</p> + +<p>The two smaller ones came obediently. They +stared her in the face attentively and seriously, +awaiting the Coming of the God, while she herself +broke into louder and louder explosions of +laughter. Soon the infection took and they were +laughing too, each shriller and more wildly than +the other.</p> + +<p>‘I can’t stop! I can’t stop!’ they cried at +intervals.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span>‘Come on, Edward! Look me in the face!’</p> + +<p>‘I won’t!’ said Edward.</p> + +<p>So she set on him and tickled him till he was +as hysterical as the rest.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, I <i>do</i> want to stop, my tummy is hurting +so!’ complained Harry at last.</p> + +<p>‘Go away then,’ advised Emily in a lucid interval. +And so the group presently broke up. +But they had all to avoid each other’s eye for a +long while, if they were not to risk another attack.</p> + +<p>It was Laura who was cured the quickest. She +suddenly discovered what a beautiful deep cave +her armpit made, and decided to keep fairies in it +in future. For some time she could think of +nothing else.</p> + +<h3>v</h3> + +<p>Captain Jonsen called suddenly to José to take +the wheel, and went below for his telescope. +Then, buttressing his hip against the rail, and extending +the shade over the object-glass, he stared +fixedly at something almost in the eye of the setting +sun. Emily, in a gentle mood, wandered up to +him, and stood, her side just touching him. Then +she began lightly rubbing her cheek on his coat, +as a cat does.</p> + +<p>Jonsen lowered the glass and tried his naked<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span> +eye, as if he had more trust in it. Then he explored +with the glass once more.</p> + +<p>What was that business-like-looking sail, tall +and narrow as a pillar? He swept his eye round +the rest of the horizon: it was empty: only that +single threatening finger, pointing upwards.</p> + +<p>Jonsen had chosen his course with care to avoid +all the ordinary tracks of shipping at that time of +year. Especially he had chosen it to avoid the +routine-passages of the Jamaica Squadron from +one British island to another. This—it had no +business here: no more than he had himself.</p> + +<p>Emily put her arm round his waist and gave it a +slight hug.</p> + +<p>‘What is it?’ she said. ‘Do let me look.’</p> + +<p>Jonsen said nothing, continuing to stare with +concentration.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Do</i> let me look!’ said Emily. ‘I haven’t ever +looked through a telescope, ever!’</p> + +<p>Jonsen abruptly snapped the glass to, and looked +down at her. His usually expressionless features +were stirred from their roots. He lifted one hand +and gently began to stroke her hair.</p> + +<p>‘Do you love me?’ he asked.</p> + +<p>‘Mm,’ assented Emily. Later she added, with +a wriggle, ‘You’re a darling.’</p> + +<p>‘If it was to help me, would you do something +... very difficult?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>‘Yes, but <i>do</i> let me have a look through your +telescope, because I haven’t, not ever, and I do +so want to!’</p> + +<p>Jonsen gave a weary sigh, and sat down on the +cabin-top. What <i>on Earth</i> were children’s heads +made of, inside?</p> + +<p>‘Now listen,’ he said. ‘I want to talk to you +seriously.’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Emily, trying to hide her extreme +discomfort. Her eye plaintively searched the deck +for something to hold it. He pressed her against +his knee in an attempt to win her attention.</p> + +<p>‘If bad, cruel men came and wanted to kill me +and take you away, what would you do?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh, how horrid!’ said Emily. ‘Will they?’</p> + +<p>‘Not if you help me.’</p> + +<p>It was unbearable. With a sudden leap she was +astride his knees, her arms round his neck and her +hands pressing the back of his head.</p> + +<p>‘I wonder if you make a good Cyclops?’ she +said; and holding his head firmly laid her nose to +his nose, her forehead to his forehead, both staring +into each other’s eyes, an inch apart, till each saw +the other’s face grow narrow and two eyes converge +to one large, misty eye in the middle.</p> + +<p>‘Lovely!’ said Emily. ‘You’re just right for +one! Only now one of your eyes has got loose +and is floating up above the other one!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span>The sun touched the sea, and for thirty seconds +every detail of the distant man-of-war was outlined +in black against the flame. But, for the life of +him, Jonsen could think of nothing but that house +in quiet Lübeck, with the green porcelain stove.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 9</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">THE darkness closed down with its sudden +curtain on that minatory finger.</p> + +<p>Captain Jonsen remained on deck all +night, whether it was his watch or not. It was a +hot night, even for those latitudes: and no moon. +The suffused brilliance of the stars lit up everything +close quite plainly, but showed nothing in +the distance. The black masts towered up, clear +against the jewelry, which seemed to swing slowly +a little to one side, a little to the other, of their +tapering points. The sails, the shadows in their +curves all diffused away, seemed flat. The halyards +and topping-lifts and braces showed here, +were invisible there, with an arbitrariness which +took from them all meaning as mechanism.</p> + +<p>Looking forward with the glowing binnacle-light +at one’s back, the narrow milky deck sloped +up to the fore-shortened tilt of the bowsprit, which +seemed to be trying to point at a single enlarged +star just above the horizon.</p> + +<p>The schooner moved just enough for the sea to +divide with a slight rustle on her stem, breaking out +into a shower of sparks, which lit up also wherever +the water rubbed the ship’s side, as if the ocean<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span> +were a tissue of sensitive nerves; and still twinkled +behind in the mere paleness of the wake. Only a +faint tang of tar in the nostrils was there to remind +one that this was no ivory and ebony fantasia but +a machine. For a schooner is in fact one of the +most mechanically satisfactory, austere, unornamented +engines ever invented by Man.</p> + +<p>A few yards off, a shoal of luminous fish shone +at different depths.</p> + +<p>But a few hundred yards off, one could see +nothing! The sea became a steady glittering +black that did not seem to move. Near, one +could see so much detail it seemed impossible to +believe that there a whole ship might lie invisible: +impossible to believe that by no glass, no anxious +straining of the eyes, could one ever <i>see</i>.</p> + +<p>Jonsen strode up and down the lee-side of the +vessel, so that what breeze there was, collecting in +the hollow of the sails, overflowed down onto him +in a continuous cool cascade. From time to time +he climbed to the foremast-head, in spite of the +fact that added height could not possibly give +added vision: stared into the blank till his eyes +ached, and then came down and resumed his +restless pacing. A ship with her lights out +might creep within a mile of him, and he not +know it.</p> + +<p>Jonsen was not given to intuitions: but he had<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span> +now an extraordinary feeling of certainty that +somewhere close in that cover of darkness his +enemy lay, preparing destruction for him. He +strained his ears too: but he could hear nothing +either, except the rustle of the water, the occasional +knocking of a loose block.</p> + +<p>If only there had been a moon! He remembered +another occasion, fifteen years before. The +slaver of which he was then second mate was +bowling along, the hatches down on her stinking +cargo, all canvas spread, when right across the +glittering path of the moon a frigate crossed, +almost within gun-shot—crossed the light, and +disappeared again. Jonsen had realised at once +that though the frigate, with the light behind it, +was now invisible to them, they, with the moonlight +shining full on them, would be perfectly +visible to the frigate. The boom of a gun soon +proved it. He had wanted to make a blind bolt +for it: but his captain, instead, ordered every +stitch of sail to be furled: and so they lay all night +under their bare poles, not moving, of course, but +(with nothing to reflect the light) grown invisible +in their turn. When dawn came the frigate was +so far down the wind they had easily shown her a +clean pair of heels.</p> + +<p>But to-night! There was no friendly moon-track +to betray the attacker: nothing but this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> +inner conviction, which grew every moment more +certain.</p> + +<p>Shortly after midnight he had descended from +one of his useless climbs to the mast-head, and +stood for a moment by the open fore-hatch. The +warm breath of the children was easily discernible. +Margaret was chattering in her sleep—quite +loud, but you could not distinguish a single +clear word.</p> + +<p>Moved by a whim, Jonsen climbed down the +ladder into the hold. Below, it was hot as an +oven. A zooming winged cockroach cannoned +about. The sound of the water, a dry rustle +above, was here a pleasant gurgle and plop against +the wooden shell; most musical of sounds to a +sailor.</p> + +<p>Laura lay on her back in the faint light of the +open hatch. She had discarded her blanket; and +the vest which did duty for a night-gown was +rucked right up under her arms. Jonsen wondered +how anything so like a frog could ever conceivably +grow into the billowy body of a woman. +He bent down and attempted to pull down the +vest: but at the first touch Laura rolled violently +over onto her stomach, then drew her knees up +under her, thrusting her pointed rump up at him; +and continued to sleep in that position, breathing +noisily.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>As his eyes got used to the gloom, vague white +splodges showed him that most of the children +had discarded their dark blankets. But he did +not notice Emily, sitting up in the darkness and +watching him.</p> + +<p>As he turned to go, an experimental smile lit up +his face: he bent, and gently flicked Laura’s behind +with his finger-nail. It collapsed like a burst +balloon; but still she went on sleeping, flat on her +face now.</p> + +<p>Jonsen was still chuckling to himself as he +reached the deck. But there his forebodings returned +to him with redoubled force. He could +<i>feel</i> that man-of-war lying-to in the darkness, +biding its time! For the fiftieth time he climbed +the ratlines and took his stand at the cross-trees, +skinning his eyes.</p> + +<p>Presently, looking down, he could just discern +the small white figure on the deck which was +Emily, hopping and skipping about. But it +passed at once out of his mind.</p> + +<p>Suddenly his tired eye caught a patch of something +darker than the sea. He looked away, then +back again, to make sure. It was still there: on +the port bow: impossible to make out clearly, +though.... Jonsen slid down the shrouds in a +flash, like a prentice. Landing on the deck like a +thunderbolt, he nearly startled Emily out of her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span> +life: she had no idea he was up there. She +startled him no less.</p> + +<p>‘It’s so <i>hot</i> down there,’ she began, ‘I can’t +sleep——’</p> + +<p>‘Get below!’ hissed Jonsen furiously: ‘don’t +you dare come up again! And don’t let any of +the others, till I tell you!’</p> + +<p>Emily, thoroughly frightened, tumbled down the +ladder as fast as she could, and rolled herself in her +blanket from head to foot: partly because her +bare legs were really a little chilled, but more for +comfort. What had she done? What was happening? +She was hardly down when feet were +heard scurrying across the deck, and the hatches +over her head were loosely fitted into place. The +darkness was profound, and seemed to be rolling +on her. No one was within reach: and she dared +not move an inch. Every one was asleep.</p> + +<p>Jonsen called all hands on deck: and in silence +they mustered at the rail. The patch was clearly +visible now: nearer, and smaller than he had +thought at first. They listened for the splash of +oars: but it came on in silence.</p> + +<p>Suddenly they were upon it, it was grating +against the ship’s side, slipping astern. It was a +dead tree, carried out to sea by some river in spate, +and tangled up with weed.</p> + +<p>But after that, he kept all hands on deck till<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span> +dawn. In their new mood they obeyed him +readily enough. For they knew he was not incompetent. +He generally did the right thing—it +was only the fuss he made in any emergency which +gave him the appearance of blundering.</p> + +<p>Yet, though there were now so many eyes +watching, no further alarm was given.</p> + +<p>But the moment the first paleness of dawn +glimmered, every one’s nerves tightened to cracking-point. +The rapidly increasing light would +any moment show them their fate.</p> + +<p>It was not till full daylight, however, that +Jonsen would let himself be convinced there was +absolutely no man-of-war there.</p> + +<p>As a matter of fact, its royals had sunk below +the horizon less than an hour after he had first +sighted it.</p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>But the alarm of that night caused Jonsen at +last to make up his mind.</p> + +<p>He altered his course: and as before he had +designed it to avoid other shipping, now on the +contrary it was calculated to run as soon as +possible into the very track of the Eastward +Bounders.</p> + +<p>Otto rubbed his eyes. What had come over +the fellow? Did he want revenge for the fright<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span> +he had had? Was he going to try and cut out a +prize right in the thick of the traffic? It would be +like Jonsen, that: to put his head in the lion’s +mouth after trembling at its roar: and Otto’s +heart warmed towards him. But he asked no +questions.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Jonsen went to his cabin, opened a +secret receptacle in his bunk, and took out a job-lot +of ships’ papers which he had bought from a +Havana dealer in such things. <i>The ‘John Dodson,’ +of Liverpool, bound for the Seychelles with a cargo of +cast-iron pots</i>—what use was that in these waters? +The man had sold him a pup!—Ah, this was +better: ‘<i>Lizzie Green,’ of Bristol, bound from Matanzas +to Philadelphia in ballast</i> ... a funny trip to make in +ballast, true: but that was no one’s affair but his +imaginary owner’s. Jonsen made sure all was in +order—filled in the blank dates, and so on—then +returned the bundle to its hiding-place for another +occasion. Coming on deck, he gave a number of +orders.</p> + +<p>First, stages were rigged over the bows and stern, +and José and a paint-pot went over the rail to add +<i>Lizzie Green</i> to the many names which from time +to time had decorated the schooner’s escutcheon. +Not content with that, he had it painted on every +other appropriate place—the boats, the buckets—it +was as well to be thorough. Meanwhile, many<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span> +of the sails were taken down and new ones bent—or +rather, old ones, distinctive sails that a man +would swear he couldn’t have forgotten if he had +ever seen them before. Otto sewed a large patch +to the mainsail, where there was no hole. In his +zeal Jonsen even considered lowering the yards +and rigging her as a pure fore-and-after: but +luckily for his sweating crew, abandoned the idea.</p> + +<p>The master-stroke of his disguise was permanent—that +he carried no guns. Guns can be hidden +or thrown overboard, it is true: but the grooves +they make in the deck cannot, as many a protesting-innocent +sea-robber has found to his cost. Jonsen +not only had no guns to hide, he had no grooves: +any fool could see he had no guns, and never had +had any. And who ever heard of a pirate without +guns? It was laughable: yet he had proved +again and again that one could make a capture just +as easily without them: and further, that the +captured merchantman, in making his report, +could generally be counted on to imagine a greater +or less display of artillery. Whether it was to save +their faces, or pure conservatism—presumption +that there must have been guns—nearly every +vessel Jonsen had had dealings with had reported +masked artillery, manned by ‘fifty or seventy +ruffians of the worst Spanish type.’</p> + +<p>Of course if he met and was challenged by a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> +man-of-war, he would have to give in without a +fight. But then, it never pays to fight a man-of-war +anyhow. If he is a big one, he sinks you. If +he is some little cock-shell of a cutter, commanded +by a fire-eating young officer just into his teens, +you sink him—and then there is the devil to pay. +Better be sunk outright than insult the honour of +a great nation in that fashion.</p> + +<p>When he at last remembered to take the hatches +off the children, they were half dead with suffocation. +It was hot enough, stuffy enough anyhow +down there, only the square opening above for +ventilation; but with the hatches even loosely in +place it was a Black Hole. Emily had at last +dropped asleep, and slept late, through a chain of +nightmares: when she did wake in the closed +hold, she sat up, then fainted immediately, and +fell back, her breath coming in loud snores. +Before she came to again she was already sobbing +miserably. At that the little ones began to cry +too: which sound it was that reminded Jonsen, +rather late, to take the hatches off.</p> + +<p>He was quite alarmed when he saw them. It +was not till they had been out in the morning +freshness of the deck for some time that they even +summoned up interest in the strange metamorphosis +of the schooner that was in progress.</p> + +<p>Jonsen looked at them with a troubled eye.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> +They had not indeed the appearance of well-cared-for +children: though he had not noticed this +before. They were dirty to a fault: their clothes +torn, and mended, if at all, with twine. Their +hair was not only uncombed—there was tar in it. +They were mostly thin, and a yellowy-brown +colour. Only Rachel remained obstinately plump +and pink. The scar on Emily’s leg was still a +blushing purple: and they all were blotched with +insect bites.</p> + +<p>Jonsen called José off his painting job: gave +him a bucket of fresh water: the mate’s (the only) +comb: and a pair of scissors. José wondered +innocently: they did not look to him particularly +dirty. But he did his duty, while they were still +too sorry for themselves to object actively, to do +anything more than sob weakly when he hurt +them. Even when he had finished their toilet, of +course, he had not reached the point at which a +nursemaid usually begins.</p> + +<p>It was noon before the <i>Lizzie Green</i> looked herself—whoever +that might be: and a little after +noon she was still heading for ‘Philadelphia’ +when, hull down on the horizon, two sail were +sighted, many miles apart, at about the same +minute. Captain Jonsen considered them carefully; +made his choice, and altered his course so +as to fall in with her as soon as might be.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span>Meanwhile, the crew had no more doubt than +Otto had of Jonsen’s intention: and the sound of +the whetstone floated merrily aft, till each man’s +knife had an edge that did its master’s heart good. +I have said that the murder of the Dutch captain +had affected the whole character of their piracy. +The yeast was working.</p> + +<p>Presently the smoke of a large steamer cropped +up over the horizon as well. Otto sniffed the +breeze. It might hold, or it might not. They +were still far from home, and these seas crowded. +The whole enterprise looked to him pretty +desperate.</p> + +<p>Jonsen was at his usual shuffle-shuffle, nervously +biting his nails. Suddenly he turned on Otto and +called him below. He was plainly very agitated; +his cheeks red, his eye wild. He began by plotting +himself meticulously on the chart. Then he +growled over his shoulder:</p> + +<p>‘Those children, they must go.’</p> + +<p>‘Aye,’ said Otto. Then, as Jonsen said no +more, he added: ‘You’ll land them at Santa, I +take it?’</p> + +<p>‘No! They must go now. We may never +get to Santa.’</p> + +<p>Otto took a deep breath.</p> + +<p>Jonsen turned on him, blustering:</p> + +<p>‘If we get taken with them, where’ll <i>we</i> be, eh?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>Otto went white, then red, before he answered.</p> + +<p>‘You’ll have to risk that,’ he said slowly. +‘You can’t land them no other place.’</p> + +<p>‘Who said I was going to land them?’</p> + +<p>‘There’s nothing else you can do,’ said Otto +stubbornly.</p> + +<p>A light of comprehension dawned suddenly in +Jonsen’s worried face.</p> + +<p>‘We could sew them up in little bags,’ he said +with a genial smile, ‘and put them over the +side.’</p> + +<p>Otto gave him one quick glance; what he saw +was enough to relieve him.</p> + +<p>‘What are you going to do?’ he asked.</p> + +<p>‘Sew them up in little bags! Sew them up in +little bags!’ Jonsen affirmed, rubbing his hands +together and chuckling, all the latent sentimentality +of the man getting the better of him. Then +he pushed past Otto and went on deck.</p> + +<p>The big brigantine, which he had aimed for at +first, was proving a bit too far up the wind for +him: so now he took the helm and let the +schooner’s head down a couple of points, to intercept +the steamer instead.</p> + +<p>Otto whistled. At last an inkling of what the +captain was at had dawned on him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span></p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>As they drew nearer, the children were all immensely +interested: they had never before seen +anything like this big, miraculous tub. The +Dutch steamer, an old-fashioned craft, had not +differed very materially from a sailing-vessel: but +this, in form, was already more like the steamers +of our own day. Its funnel was still tall and +narrow, with a kind of artichoke on top, it is true: +but otherwise it was much the same as you and I +are used to.</p> + +<p>Jonsen spoke her urgently: and presently her +engines stopped. The <i>Lizzie Green</i> slipped round +under her lee. Jonsen had a boat lowered: then +embarked in it himself. The children and the +schooner’s crew stood at the rail in tense excitement: +watched a little ladder lowered from her +towering iron side: watched Jonsen, alone, in his +dark Sunday suit and the peaked cap of his rank, +climb on board. He had timed it nicely: in +another hour it would be dark.</p> + +<p>He had no easy task. First he had his premeditated +fiction to establish, his explanation of how he +came by his passengers. Secondly, he had to persuade +the captain of the steamship, a stranger, to +relieve him, where he had so signally failed to +persuade his friend the señora at Santa Lucia.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>Otto was not a man to show agitation: but +he felt it, none the less. This scheme of Jon’s +was the foolhardiest thing he had ever heard of: +the slightest suspicion, and they were as good as +done for.</p> + +<p>Jonsen had ordered him, if he guessed anything +was wrong, to run.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile, the breeze was dropping, and it was +still light.</p> + +<p>Jonsen had vanished into the steamer as into a +forest.</p> + +<p>Emily was as excited as any of them, pointing +out the novel features of this extraordinary vessel. +The children still thought it was professional +quarry. Edward was openly bragging of what he +would do when he had captured it.</p> + +<p>‘I shall cut the captain’s head off and throw it in +the water!’ he declared aloud.</p> + +<p>‘S-s-sh!’ exclaimed Harry in a stage whisper.</p> + +<p>‘Coo! I don’t care!’ cried Edward, intoxicated +with bravado. ‘Then I shall take out all the +gold and keep it for myself.’</p> + +<p>‘I shall sink it!’ said Harry, in imitation: then +added as an afterthought, ‘Right to the very +bottom!’</p> + +<p>Emily fell silent, her peculiarly vivid imagination +having the mastery of her. She saw the hold +of the steamer, piled with gold and jewels. She<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span> +saw herself, fighting her way through hordes of +hairy sailors, with her bare fists, till only the +steamer’s captain stood between her and the +treasure.</p> + +<p>Then it happened! It was as if a small cold +voice inside her said suddenly, ‘<i>How can you? +You’re only a little girl!</i>’ She felt herself falling +giddily from the heights, shrinking. She was <i>Emily</i>.</p> + +<p>The awful, blood-covered face of the Dutch +captain seemed to threaten her out of the air. She +cowered back at the shock. But it was over in a +moment.</p> + +<p>She looked around her in terror. Did any one +know how defenceless she was? Surely some one +must have noticed her. The other children were +gibbering in their animal innocence. The sailors, +their knives half concealed, grinned at each other +or cursed. Otto, his brows knotted, stood with +his eyes fixed on the steamer.</p> + +<p>She feared everybody, she hated everybody.</p> + +<p>Margaret was whispering something to Edward, +and he nodded. Again panic seized her. What +was Margaret telling him? Had she told every +one? Did they all know? Were they all playing +with her, deceiving her by pretending not to +know, waiting their own time to burst their revelation +on her and punish her in some quite unimaginably +awful way?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span><i>Had</i> Margaret told? If she crept up behind +Margaret now, and pushed her in the sea, might +she yet be in time?—But even as she thought it, +she seemed to see Margaret rising waist-high out +of the waves, telling the whole story to everybody +in a calm, dispassionate voice, and climbing back +on board.</p> + +<p>In another flash she saw the fat, comfortable +person of her mother, standing at the door of +Ferndale, abusing the cook.</p> + +<p>Again her eyes roamed round the sinister +reality of the schooner. She suddenly felt sick to +death of it all: tired, beyond words tired. Why +must she be chained for ever to this awful life? +Could she never escape, never get back to the +ordinary life little girls lead, with their papas and +mamas and ... birthday cakes?</p> + +<p>Otto called her. She went to him obediently: +though with a presentiment that it was to her +execution. He turned, and called Margaret too.</p> + +<p>She was in a more attentive mood than she had +been the other night with the captain, Heaven +knows! But Otto was too preoccupied to notice +how frightened her eyes were.</p> + +<p>Jonsen had no easy task on the steamer: but +Otto did not greatly relish his own. He did not +know how to begin—and everything depended on +his success.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>‘See here,’ he burst out. ‘You’re going to +England.’</p> + +<p>Emily shot him a quick glance. ‘Yes?’ she +said at last: her voice showing merely a polite +interest.</p> + +<p>‘The captain has gone onto that steamboat to +arrange about it.’</p> + +<p>‘Aren’t we staying with you any longer, +then?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Otto: ‘you’re going home on that +steamboat.’</p> + +<p>‘Shan’t we see you any more, then?’ Emily +pursued.</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Otto: ‘—Well, some day, perhaps.’</p> + +<p>‘Are they all going, or only us two?’</p> + +<p>‘Why, all of you, of course!’</p> + +<p>‘Oh. I didn’t know.’</p> + +<p>There was an awkward silence, while Otto +wondered how to tackle the real problem.</p> + +<p>‘Had we better go and get ready?’ asked +Margaret.</p> + +<p>‘Now listen!’ Otto interrupted her. ‘When +you get on board, they’ll ask you all about +everything. They’ll want to know how you got +here.’</p> + +<p>‘Are we to tell them?’</p> + +<p>Otto was astonished she took his point so +readily.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>‘No,’ he said. ‘The captain and me don’t +want you to. We want you to keep it a secret, +do you see?’</p> + +<p>‘What <i>are</i> we to say, then?’ Emily asked.</p> + +<p>‘Tell them ... you were captured by pirates, +and then ... they put you ashore at a little port +in Cuba——’</p> + +<p>‘—Where the Fat Woman was?’</p> + +<p>‘—Yes. And then we came along, and took +you on board our schooner, which was going to +America, to save you from the pirates.’</p> + +<p>‘I see,’ said Emily.</p> + +<p>‘You’ll say that, and keep the ... other a +secret?’ Otto asked anxiously.</p> + +<p>Emily gave him her peculiar, gentle stare.</p> + +<p>‘Of course!’ she said.</p> + +<p>Well, he had done his best: but Otto felt heavy +at heart. That little cherub! He didn’t believe +she could keep a secret for ten seconds.</p> + +<p>‘Now: do you think you can make the little +ones understand?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes, I’ll tell them,’ said Emily easily. She +considered for a moment: ‘I don’t suppose they +remember much anyway. Is that all?’</p> + +<p>‘That’s all,’ said Otto: and they walked +away.</p> + +<p>‘What was he saying?’ Margaret asked. +‘What was it all about?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>‘Oh shut up!’ said Emily rudely. ‘It’s +nothing to do with you!’</p> + +<p>But inwardly she did not know whether she +was on her head or her heels. Were they really +going to let her escape? Weren’t they just tantalising +her, meaning to stop her at the last moment? +Were they handing her over to strangers, who had +come to hang her for murder? Was her mother +perhaps on that steamer, come to save her? But +she loved Jonsen and Otto: how could she bear +to part with them? The dear, familiar schooner.... +All these thoughts in her head at once! But +she dealt firmly enough with the Liddlies:</p> + +<p>‘Come on!’ she said. ‘We’re going on that +steamer.’</p> + +<p>‘Are <i>we</i> to do the fighting?’ Edward asked, +timorously enough.</p> + +<p>‘There isn’t going to be any fighting,’ said +Emily.</p> + +<p>‘Will there be another circus?’ asked Laura.</p> + +<p>Then she told them they were to change ships +again.</p> + +<p>When Captain Jonsen came back, mopping the +sweat from his polished forehead with a big cotton +handkerchief, he seemed in a terrible hurry. As +for the children, they were so excited they were +ready to tumble into the boat: in such a flurry +they nearly tumbled into the sea instead. <i>Now</i><span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span> +they knew why they had been washed and +combed.</p> + +<p>It did not seem at first as if there was going to be +any difficulty about getting them started. But it +was Rachel who began the break-away.</p> + +<p>‘My babies! My babies!’ she shrieked, and +began running all over the ship, routing out bits +of rag, fuzzy rope-ends, paint-pots ... her arms +were soon full.</p> + +<p>‘Here, you can’t take all that junk!’ dissuaded +Otto.</p> + +<p>‘Oh but my darlings, I can’t leave you behind!’ +cried Rachel piteously. Out rushed the cook, just +in time to retrieve his ladle—and a battle-royal +began.</p> + +<p>Naturally, Jonsen was on tenterhooks to be +gone. But it was essential they should part on +good terms.</p> + +<p>José was lifting Laura over the side.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Darling</i> José!’ she burst out suddenly, and +twined her arms tightly round his neck.</p> + +<p>At that Harry and Edward, who were already in +the boat, scrambled back on deck. They had +forgotten to say good-bye. And so each child +said good-bye to each pirate, kissing him and +lavishing endearments on him.</p> + +<p>‘Go on! Go on!’ muttered Jonsen impatiently.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span>Emily flung herself in his arms, sobbing as if +her heart would break.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t make me go!’ she begged. ‘Let me +stay with you always, always!’ She clung tight +to the lapels of his coat, hiding her face in his +chest: ‘Oh, I <i>don’t</i> want to go!’</p> + +<p>Jonsen was strangely moved: for a moment, +almost toyed with the idea.</p> + +<p>But the others were already in the boat.</p> + +<p>‘Come on!’ said Otto, ‘or they’ll go without +you!’</p> + +<p>‘Wait! Wait!’ shrieked Emily, and was over +the side and in the boat in a flash.</p> + +<p>Jonsen shook his head confusedly. For this +last time, she had him puzzled.</p> + +<p>But now, as they rowed across to the steamer, +all the children stood up in the boat, in danger of +tumbling out, and cried:</p> + +<p>‘Good-bye! Good-bye!’</p> + +<p>‘Adios!’ cried the pirates, waving sentimental +hands, and guffawing secretly to each other.</p> + +<p>‘C-c-come and see us in England!’ came +Edward’s clear treble.</p> + +<p>‘Yes!’ cried Emily. ‘Come and stay with us! +All of you!—<i>Promise</i> you’ll come and stay +with us!’</p> + +<p>‘All right!’ shouted Otto. ‘We’ll come!’</p> + +<p>‘Come <i>soon</i>!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>‘My babies!’ wailed Rachel. ‘I’ve lost ’most +all my babies!’</p> + +<p>But now they were alongside the steamer: and +soon they were mounting a rope ladder to her +deck.</p> + +<p>What a long way up it was! But at last they +were all on board.</p> + +<p>The little boat returned to the schooner.</p> + +<p>The children never once looked after it.</p> + +<p>And well might they forget it. For exciting as +it had been to go onto a ship of any kind for the +first time, to find themselves on this steamer was +infinitely more so. The luxury of it! The white +paint! The doors! The windows! The stairs! +The brass!—A fairy palace, no: but a mundane +wonder of a quite unimagined kind.</p> + +<p>But they had little time now to take in the +details. All the passengers, wild with curiosity, +were gathered round them in a ring. As the dirty, +dishevelled little mites were handed one by one on +board, a gasp went up. The story of the capture +of the <i>Clorinda</i> by as fiendish a set of buccaneers as +any in the past that roamed the same Caribbean was +well known: and how the little innocents on +board her had been taken and tortured to death +before the eyes of the impotent captain. To see +now face to face the victims of so foul a murder +was for them too a thrill of the first water.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>The tension was first broken by a beautiful +young lady in a muslin dress. She sank on her +knees beside little Harry, and folded him in her +delicate arms.</p> + +<p>‘The little angel!’ she murmured. ‘You poor +little man, what horrors you have been through! +How will you ever forget them?’</p> + +<p>As if that were the signal, all the lady passengers +fell on the astonished children and pitied them: +while the men, less demonstrative, stood around +with lumps in their throats.</p> + +<p>Bewildered at first, it was not long before they +rose to the occasion—as children generally will, +when they find themselves the butt of indiscriminate +adoration. Bless you, they were kings and +queens! They were so sleepy they could hardly +keep their eyes open: but they were not going to +bed, not they! They had never been treated like +this before. Heaven alone knew how long it +would last. Best not waste a minute of it.</p> + +<p>It was not long before they ceased even to be +surprised, became convinced that it was all their +right and due. They were very important people—quite +unique.</p> + +<p>Only Emily stood apart, shy, answering questions +uncomfortably. She did not seem to be +able to throw herself into her importance with the +same zest as the others.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>Even the passengers’ children joined in the fuss +and admiration: perhaps realising the opportunity +which the excitement gave of avoiding +their own bed-time. They began to bring (probably +not without suggestion) their toys, as offerings +to these new gods: and vied with each other +in their generosity.</p> + +<p>A shy little boy of about her own age, with +brown eyes and a nice smile, his long hair brushed +smooth as silk, his clothes neat and sweet-smelling, +sidled up to Rachel.</p> + +<p>‘What’s your name?’ she asked him.</p> + +<p>‘Harold.’</p> + +<p>She told him hers.</p> + +<p>‘How much do you weigh?’ he asked her.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know.’</p> + +<p>‘You look rather heavy. May I see if I can +lift you?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes.’</p> + +<p>He clasped his arms round her stomach from +behind, leant back, and staggered a few paces with +her. Then he set her down, the friendship +cemented.</p> + +<p>Emily stood apart; and for some reason every +one unconsciously respected her reserve. But +suddenly something seemed to snap in her heart. +She flung herself face-downwards on the deck—not +crying, but kicking convulsively. It was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span> +huge great stewardess who picked her up and +carried her, still quivering from head to foot, +down to a neat, clean cabin. There, soothing and +talking to her without ceasing, she undressed her, +and washed her with warm water, and put her +to bed.</p> + +<p>Emily’s head felt different to any way it had +ever felt before: hardly as if it were her own. It +sang, and went round like a wheel, without so +much as with your leave or by your leave. But +her body, on the other hand, was more than usually +sensitive, absorbing the tender, smooth coolness +of the sheets, the softness of the mattress, as a +thirsty horse sucks up water. Her limbs drank in +comfort at every pore: it seemed as if she could +never be sated with it. She felt physical peace +soaking slowly through to her marrow: and +when at last it got there, her head became more +quiet and orderly too.</p> + +<p>All this while she had hardly heard what was +said to her: only a refrain that ran through it all +made any impression, ‘<i>Those wicked men ... men +... nothing but men ... those cruel men.</i>...’</p> + +<p>Men! It was perfectly true that for months +and months she had seen nothing but men. To +be at last back among other women was heavenly. +When the kind stewardess bent over her to kiss +her, she caught tight hold of her, and buried her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span> +face in the warm, soft, yielding flesh, as if to sink +herself in it. Lord! How unlike the firm, +muscular bodies of Jonsen and Otto!</p> + +<p>When the stewardess stood up again, Emily +feasted her eyes on her, eyes grown large and +warm and mysterious. The woman’s enormous, +swelling bosom fascinated her. Forlornly, she +began to pinch her own thin little chest. Was it +conceivable she would herself ever grow breasts +like that—beautiful, mountainous breasts, that had +to be cased in a sort of cornucopia? Or even +firm little apples, like Margaret’s?</p> + +<p>Thank God she had not been born a boy! She +was overtaken with a sudden revulsion against the +whole sex of them. From the tips of her fingers +to the tips of her toes she felt female: one with +that exasperating, idiotic secret communion: +initiate of the γυναικεῖον.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Emily reached up and caught the +stewardess by the head, pulling it down to her +close: began whispering earnestly in her ear.</p> + +<p>On the woman’s face the first look of incredulity +changed to utter stupefaction, from stupefaction +to determination.</p> + +<p>‘My eye!’ she said at last. ‘The cheek of the +rascals! The impudence!’</p> + +<p>Without another word she slipped out of the +cabin. And you may imagine that the steamer<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span> +captain, when he heard the trick that had been +played upon him, was as astonished as she.</p> + +<p>For a few moments after she had gone Emily +lay staring at nothing, a very curious expression +on her face indeed. Then, all of a sudden, she +dropped asleep, breathing sweetly and easily.</p> + +<p>But she only slept for about ten minutes: and +when she woke the cabin door was open, and in it +stood Rachel and her little boy friend.</p> + +<p>‘What do you want?’ said Emily forbiddingly.</p> + +<p>‘Harold has brought his alligator,’ said Rachel.</p> + +<p>Harold stepped forward, and laid the little +creature on Emily’s coverlet. It was very small: +only about six inches long: a yearling: but an +exact miniature of its adult self, with the snub +nose and round Socratic forehead that distinguish +it from the crocodile. It moved jerkily, like a +clockwork toy. Harold picked it up by the tail: +it spread its paws in the air, and jerked from side +to side, more like clockwork than ever. Then he +set it down again, and it stood there, its tongueless +mouth wide open and its harmless teeth looking +like grains of sand-paper, alternately barking and +hissing. Harold let it snap at his finger—it was +plainly hungry in the warmth down there. It +darted its head so fast you could hardly see it +move: but its bite was still so weak as to be painless, +even to a child.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span>Emily drew a deep breath, fascinated.</p> + +<p>‘May I have him for the night?’ she asked.</p> + +<p>‘All right,’ said Harold: and he and Rachel +were summoned away by some one without.</p> + +<p>Emily was translated into Heaven. So this was +an alligator! She was actually going to sleep +with an alligator! She had thought that to any +one who had once been in an earthquake nothing +really exciting could happen again: but then, she +had not thought of this.</p> + +<p><i>There was once a girl called Emily, who slept with an +alligator....</i></p> + +<p>In search of greater warmth, the creature high-stepped +warily up the bed towards her face. +About six inches away it paused, and they looked +each other in the eye, those two children.</p> + +<p>The eye of an alligator is large, protruding, and +of a brilliant yellow, with a slit pupil like a cat’s. +A cat’s eye, to the casual observer, is expressionless: +though with attention one can distinguish in +it many changes of emotion. But the eye of an +alligator is infinitely more stony and brilliant—reptilian.</p> + +<p>What possible meaning could Emily find in such +an eye? Yet she lay there, and stared, and stared: +and the alligator stared too. If there had been an +observer it might have given him a shiver to see +them so—well, eye to eye like that.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>Presently the beast opened his mouth and hissed +again gently. Emily lifted a finger and began to +rub the corner of his jaw. The hiss changed to a +sound almost like a purr. A thin, filmy lid first +covered his eye from the front backwards, then +the outer lid closed up from below.</p> + +<p>Suddenly he opened his eyes again, and snapped +on her finger: then turned and wormed his way +into the neck of her night-gown, and crawled down +inside, cool and rough against her skin, till he +found a place to rest. It is surprising that she +could stand it as she did, without flinching.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Alligators are utterly untamable.</p> + +<h3>iv</h3> + +<p>From the deck of the schooner, Jonsen and +Otto watched the children climb onto the steamer: +watched their boat return, and the steamer get +under way.</p> + +<p>So: it had all gone without a hitch. No one +had suspected his story—a story so simple as to be +very nearly the truth.</p> + +<p>They were gone.</p> + +<p>Jonsen could feel the difference at once: and it +seemed almost as if the schooner could. A +schooner, after all, is a place for <i>men</i>. He stretched<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> +himself, and took a deep breath, feeling that a +cloying, enervating influence was lifted. José +was industriously sweeping up some of Rachel’s +abandoned babies. He swept them into the lee-scuppers. +He drew a bucket of water, and dashed +it at them over the deck. The trap swung open—whew, +it was gone, all that truck!</p> + +<p>‘Batten down that fore-hatch!’ ordered Jonsen.</p> + +<p>The men all seemed lighter of heart than they +had been for many months: as if the weight they +were relieved of had been enormous. They sang +as they worked, and two friends playfully pummelled +each other in passing—hard. The lean, +masculine schooner shivered and plunged in the +freshening evening breeze. A shower of spray +for no particular reason suddenly burst over the +bows, swept aft and dashed full in Jonsen’s +face. He shook his head like a wet dog, and +grinned.</p> + +<p>Rum appeared: and for the first time since the +encounter with the Dutch steamer all the sailors +got bestially drunk, and lay about the deck, and +were sick in the scuppers. José was belching like +a bassoon.</p> + +<p>It was dark by then. The breeze dropped +away again. The gaffs clanked aimlessly in the +calm, with the motion of the sea: the empty sails +flapped with reports like cannon, a hearty applause.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span> +Jonsen and Otto themselves remained sober, but +they had not the heart to discipline the crew.</p> + +<p>The steamer had long since disappeared into the +dark. The foreboding which had oppressed Jonsen +all the night before was gone. No intuition +told him of Emily’s whispering to the stewardess: +of the steamer, shortly after, meeting with a +British gunboat: of the long series of lights +flickering between them. The gunboat, even +now, was fast overhauling him: but no premonition +disturbed his peace.</p> + +<p>He was tired—as tired as a sailor ever lets himself +be. The last twenty-four hours had been hard. +He went below as soon as his watch was over, and +climbed into his bunk.</p> + +<p>But he did not, at once, sleep. He lay for a +while conning over the step he had taken. It was +really very astute. He had returned the children, +undoubtedly safe and sound: Marpole would be +altogether discredited. Even to have landed them +at Santa Lucia, his first intention, could never have +closed the <i>Clorinda</i> episode so completely, since the +world at large would not have heard of it: and +it would have been difficult to produce them, +should need arise.</p> + +<p>Indeed, it had seemed to be a choice of evils: +either he must carry them about always, as a +proof that they were alive, or he must land them<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> +and lose control of them. In the first case, their +presence would certainly connect him with the +<i>Clorinda</i> piracy of which he might otherwise go +unsuspected: in the second, he might be convicted +of their murder if he could not produce +them.</p> + +<p>But this wonderful idea of his, now that he had +carried it out successfully, solved both difficulties.</p> + +<p>It had been a near thing with that little bitch +Margaret, though ... lucky the second boat had +picked her up....</p> + +<p>The light from the cabin lamp shone into the +bunk, illuminating part of the wall defaced with +Emily’s puerile drawings. As they caught his eye +a frown gathered on his forehead: but as well a +sudden twinge affected his heart. He remembered +the way she had lain there, ill and helpless. He +suddenly found himself remembering at least forty +things about her—an overwhelming flood of +memories.</p> + +<p>The pencil she had used was still among the +bedding, and his fingers happened on it. There +were still some white spaces not drawn on.</p> + +<p>Jonsen could only draw two things: ships, and +naked women. He could draw any type of ship +he liked, down to the least detail—any particular +ship he had sailed in, even. In the same way he +could draw voluptuous, buxom women, also down<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> +to the least detail: in any position, and from any +point of view: from the front, from the back, +from the side, from above, from below: his fore-shortening +faultless. But set him to draw any +third thing—even a woman with her clothes on—and +he could not have produced a scribble that +would have been even recognisable.</p> + +<p>He took the pencil: and before long there +began to appear between Emily’s crude uncertain +lines round thighs, rounder bellies, high swelling +bosoms, all somewhat in the manner of Rubens.</p> + +<p>At the same time his mind was still occupied +with reflections on his own astuteness. Yes, it +had been a near thing with Margaret—it would +have been awkward if, when he returned the +party, there had been one missing.</p> + +<p>A recollection descended on his mind like a cold +douche, something he had completely forgotten +about till then. His heart sank—as well it might:</p> + +<p>‘Hey!’ he called to Otto on the deck above. +‘What was the name of that boy who broke his +neck at Santa? Jim—Sam—what was he called?’</p> + +<p>Otto did not answer, except by a long-drawn-out +whistle.</p> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> + +<h2 class="nobreak"><i>Chapter 10</i></h2> +</div> + +<p class="drop-cap">EMILY grew quite a lot during the passage +to England on the steamer: suddenly shot +up, as children will at that age. But she +did it without any gawkiness: instead, an actual +increase of grace. Her legs and arms, though +longer, did not lose any of the nicety of their shape; +and her grave face lost none of its attractiveness +by being a fraction nearer your own. The only +drawback was that she used to get pains in the +calves of her legs, now, and sometimes in her +back: but those of course did not show. (They +were all provided with clothes by a general collection, +so it did not matter that she grew out of +her old ones.)</p> + +<p>She was a nice child: and being a little less shy +than formerly, was soon the most popular of all +of them. Somehow, no one seemed to care very +much for Margaret: old ladies used to shake their +heads over her a good deal. At least, any one +could see that Emily had infinitely more sense.</p> + +<p>You would never have believed that Edward +after a few days’ washing and combing would look +such a little gentleman.</p> + +<p>After a short while Rachel threw Harold over,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span> +to be uninterrupted in her peculiar habits of parthenogenesis, +eased now a little by the many +presents of real dolls. But Harold became soon just +as firm friends with Laura, young though she was.</p> + +<p>Most of the steamer children had made friends +with the seamen, and loved to follow them about +at their romantic occupations—swabbing decks, +and so on. One day, one of these men actually +went a short way up the rigging (what little there +was), leaving a glow of admiration on the deck +below. But all this had no glamour for the +Thorntons. Edward and Harry liked best to peer +in at the engines: but what Emily liked best was +to walk up and down the deck with her arm round +the waist of Miss Dawson, the beautiful young +lady with the muslin dresses: or stand behind her +while she did little water-colour compositions of +toppling waves with wrecks foundering in them, +or mounted dried tropical flowers in wreaths +round photographs of her uncles and aunts. One +day Miss Dawson took her down to her cabin and +showed her all her clothes, every single item—it +took hours. It was the opening of a new world +to Emily.</p> + +<p>The captain sent for Emily, and questioned her: +but she added nothing to that first, crucial burst of +confidence to the stewardess. She seemed struck +dumb—with terror, or something: at least, he<span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span> +could get nothing out of her. So he wisely let her +alone. She would probably tell her story in her +own time: to her new friend, perhaps. But this +she did not do. She would not talk about the +schooner, or the pirates, or anything concerning +them: what she wanted was to listen, to drink in +all she could learn about England, where they +were really going at last—that wonderfully exotic, +romantic place.</p> + +<p>Louisa Dawson was quite a wise young person +for her years. She saw that Emily did not want +to talk about the horrors she had been through: +but considered it far better that she should be +made to talk than that she should brood over them +in secret. So when the days passed and no confidences +came, she set herself to draw the child out. +She had, as everybody has, a pretty clear idea in +her own head of what life is like in a pirate vessel. +That these little innocents should have come +through it alive was miraculous, like the three +Hebrews in the fiery furnace.</p> + +<p>‘Where used you to live when you were on the +schooner?’ she asked Emily one day suddenly.</p> + +<p>‘Oh, in the hold,’ said Emily nonchalantly. +‘Is that your Great-uncle <i>Vaughan</i>, did you +say?’</p> + +<p>In the hold. She might have known it. +Chained, probably, down there in the darkness like<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span> +blacks, with rats running over them, fed on bread +and water.</p> + +<p>‘Were you very frightened when there was a +battle going on? Did you hear them fighting +over your head?’</p> + +<p>Emily looked at her with her gentle stare: but +kept silence.</p> + +<p>Louisa Dawson was very wise in thus trying to +ease the load on the child’s mind. But also she +was consumed with curiosity. It exasperated her +that Emily would not talk.</p> + +<p>There were two questions which she particularly +wanted to ask. One, however, seemed +insuperably difficult of approach. The other she +could not contain.</p> + +<p>‘Listen, darling,’ she said, wrapping her arms +round Emily. ‘Did you ever actually see any one +killed?’</p> + +<p>Emily stiffened palpably. ‘Oh no,’ she said. +‘Why should we?’</p> + +<p>‘Didn’t you ever even see a body?’ she went +on: ‘A dead one?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Emily, ‘there weren’t any.’ She +seemed to meditate a while. ‘There weren’t +many,’ she corrected.</p> + +<p>‘You poor, poor little thing,’ said Miss Dawson, +stroking her forehead.</p> + +<p>But though Emily was slow to talk, Edward<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span> +was not. Suggestion was hardly necessary. He +soon saw what he was expected to say. It was +also what he wanted to say. All these rehearsals +with Harry, these springings into the main rigging, +these stormings of the galley ... they had seemed +real enough at the time. Now, he had soon no +doubt about them at all. And Harry backed +him up.</p> + +<p>It was wonderful for Edward that every one +seemed ready to believe what he said. Those who +came to him for tales of bloodshed were not sent +empty away.</p> + +<p>Nor did Rachel contradict him. The pirates +were wicked—deadly wicked, as she had good +reason to know. So they had probably done all +Edward said: probably when she was not looking.</p> + +<p>Miss Dawson did not always press Emily like +this: she had too much sense. She spent a good +deal of her time simply in tying more firmly the +knots of the child’s passion for her.</p> + +<p>She was ready enough to tell her about England. +But how strange it seemed that these humdrum +narrations should interest any one who had seen +such romantic, terrible things as Emily had!</p> + +<p>She told her all about London, where the traffic +was so thick things could hardly pass, where +things drove by all day, as if the supply of them +would never come to an end. She tried also to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span> +describe trains, but Emily could not see them, +somehow: all she could envisage was a steamer +like this one, only going on land—but she knew +that was not right.</p> + +<p>What a wonderful person her Miss Dawson +was! What marvels she had seen! Emily had +again the feeling she had in the schooner’s cabin: +how time had slipped by, been wasted. Now she +would be eleven in a few months: a great age: +and in all that long life, how little of interest or +significance had happened to her! There was her +Earthquake, of course, and she had slept with an +alligator: but what were these compared with the +experiences of Miss Dawson, who knew London +so well it hardly seemed any longer wonderful to +her, who could not even count the number of +times she had travelled in a train?</p> + +<p>Her Earthquake ... it was a great possession. +Dared she tell Miss Dawson about it? Was it +possible that it would raise her a little in Miss +Dawson’s esteem, show that even she, little Emily, +had had experiences? But she never dared. +Suppose that to Miss Dawson earthquakes were as +familiar as railway trains: the fiasco would be +unbearable. As for the alligator, Miss Dawson +had told Harold to take it away as if it was a worm.</p> + +<p>Sometimes Miss Dawson sat silently fondling +Emily, looking now at her, now at the other<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span> +children at play. How difficult it was to imagine +that these happy-looking creatures had been, for +months together, in hourly danger of their lives! +Why had they not died of fright? She was sure +that she would have. Or at least gone stark, +staring, raving mad?</p> + +<p>She had always wondered how people survived +even a moment of danger without dropping dead +with fear: but months and months ... and children.... +Her head could not swallow it.</p> + +<p>As for that other question, how dearly she +would have liked to ask it, if only she could have +devised a formula delicate enough.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Emily’s passion for her was nearing +its crisis; and one day this was provoked. Miss +Dawson kissed Emily three times, and told her in +future to call her Lulu.</p> + +<p>Emily jumped as if shot. Call this goddess by +her Christian name? She burnt a glowing vermilion +at the very thought. The Christian names +of all grown-ups were sacred: something never +to be uttered by childish lips: to do so, the most +blasphemous disrespect.</p> + +<p>For Miss Dawson to tell her to do so was as +embarrassing as if she had seen written up in +church,</p> + +<p class="center">PLEASE SPIT.</p> + +<p>Of course, if Miss Dawson told her to call her<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> +Lulu, at least she must not call her Miss Dawson +any more. But say ... the Other Word aloud, +her lips refused.</p> + +<p>And so for some time, by elaborate subterfuges, +she managed to avoid calling her anything at all. +But the difficulty of this increased in geometrical +progression: it began to render all intercourse an +intolerable strain. Before long she was avoiding +Miss Dawson.</p> + +<p>Miss Dawson was terribly wounded: what +could she have done to offend this strange child? +(‘Little Fairy-girl,’ she used to call her.) The +darling had seemed so fond of her, but now....</p> + +<p>So Miss Dawson used to follow her about the +ship with hurt eyes, and Emily used to escape +from her with scarlet cheeks. They had never +had a real talk, heart to heart, again, by the time +the steamer reached England.</p> + +<h3>ii</h3> + +<p>When the steamer took in her pilot, you may +imagine that her news travelled ashore; and also, +that it quickly reached the <i>Times</i> newspaper.</p> + +<p>Mr. and Mrs. Bas-Thornton, after the disaster, +unable to bear Jamaica any longer, had sold Ferndale +for a song and travelled straight back to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span> +England, where Mr. Thornton soon got posts as +London dramatic critic to various Colonial newspapers, +and manipulated rather remote influences +at the Admiralty in the hope of getting a punitive +expedition sent against the whole island of Cuba. +It was thus the <i>Times</i> which, in its quiet way, broke +the news to them, the very morning that the +steamer docked at Tilbury. She was a long time +doing it, owing to the fog, out of which the +gigantic noises of dockland reverberated unintelligibly. +Voices shouted things from the quays. +Bells ting-a-linged. The children welded themselves +into a compact mass facing outwards, an +improvised Argus determined to miss nothing +whatever. But they could not gather really what +anything was about, much less everything.</p> + +<p>Miss Dawson had taken charge of them all, +meaning to convey them to her Aunt’s London +house till their relations could be found. So now +she took them ashore, and up to the train, into +which they climbed.</p> + +<p>‘What are we getting into this box for?’ asked +Harry: ‘Is it going to rain?’</p> + +<p>It took Rachel several journeys up and down +the steep steps to get all her babies inside.</p> + +<p>The fog, which had met them at the mouth of +the river, was growing thicker than ever. So +they sat there in semi-darkness at first, till a man<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span> +came and lit the light. It was not very comfortable, +and horribly cold: but presently another +man came, and put in a big flat thing which was +hot: it was full of hot water, Miss Dawson said, +and for you to put your feet on.</p> + +<p>Even now that she was in a train, Emily could +hardly believe it would ever start. She had become +quite sure it was not going to when at last it +did, jerking along like a cannon-ball would on a +leash.</p> + +<p>Then their powers of observation broke down. +For the time they were full. So they played Up-Jenkins +riotously all the way to London: and +when they arrived hardly noticed it. They were +quite loath to get out, and finally did so into as +thick a pea-soup fog as London could produce at +the tail end of the season. At this they began to +wake up again, and jog themselves to remember +that this really was <i>England</i>, so as not to miss +things.</p> + +<p>They had just realised that the train had run +right inside a sort of enormous house, lit by +haloed yellow lights and full of this extraordinary +orange-coloured air, when Mrs. Thornton found +them.</p> + +<p>‘Mother!’ cried Emily. She had not known +she could be so glad to see her. As for Mrs. +Thornton, she was far beyond the bounds of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span> +hysteria. The little ones held back at first, but +soon followed Emily’s example, leaping on her +and shouting: indeed it looked more like Actæon +with his hounds than a mother with her children: +their monkey-like little hands tore her clothes in +pieces, but she didn’t care a hoot. As for their +father, he had totally forgotten how much he +disliked emotional scenes.</p> + +<p>‘I slept with an alligator!’ Emily was shouting +at intervals. ‘Mother! I’ve slept with an +alligator!’</p> + +<p>Margaret stood in the background holding all +their parcels. None of her relations had appeared +at the station. Mrs. Thornton’s eye at last took +her in.</p> + +<p>‘Why, Margaret ...’ she began vaguely.</p> + +<p>Margaret smiled and came forward to kiss her.</p> + +<p>‘Get out!’ cried Emily fiercely, punching her +in the chest. ‘She’s <i>my</i> mother!’</p> + +<p>‘Get out!’ shouted all the others. ‘She’s <i>our</i> +mother!’</p> + +<p>Margaret fell back again into the shadows: and +Mrs. Thornton was too distracted to be as shocked +as she would normally have been.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton, however, was just sane enough +to take in the situation. ‘Come on, Margaret!’ +he said. ‘Margaret’s <i>my</i> pal! Let’s go and look +for a cab!’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>He took the girl’s arm, bowing his fine +shoulders, and walked off with her up the platform.</p> + +<p>They found a cab, and brought it to the scene, +and they all got in, Mrs. Thornton just remembering +to say ‘How-d’you-do-good-bye’ to Miss +Dawson.</p> + +<p>Packing themselves inside was difficult. It +was in the middle of it all that Mrs. Thornton +suddenly exclaimed:</p> + +<p>‘But where’s John?’</p> + +<p>The children fell immediately silent.</p> + +<p>‘Where is he?—Wasn’t he on the train with +you?’</p> + +<p>‘No,’ said Emily, and went as dumb as the +rest.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thornton looked from one of them to +another.</p> + +<p>‘John! Where is John?’ she asked the world +at large, a faint hint of uneasiness beginning to +tinge her voice.</p> + +<p>It was then that Miss Dawson showed a puzzled +face at the window.</p> + +<p>‘<i>John?</i>’ she asked. ‘Why, who is John?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span></p> + +<h3>iii</h3> + +<p>The children passed the spring at the house +their father had taken in Hammersmith Terrace, +on the borders of Chiswick: but Captain Jonsen, +Otto, and the crew passed it in Newgate.</p> + +<p>They were taken there as soon as the gunboat +which apprehended them reached the Thames.</p> + +<p>The children’s bewilderment lasted. London +was not what they had expected, but it was even +more astounding. From time to time, however, +they would realise how this or that did chime in +with something they had been told, though not at +all with the idea that the telling had conjured up. +On these occasions they felt something as Saint +Matthew must have felt when, after recounting +some trivial incident, he adds: ‘That it might be +fulfilled which was spoken by the Prophet So-and-So.’</p> + +<p>‘Why look!’ exclaimed Edward. ‘There’s +only toys in this store!’</p> + +<p>‘Why, don’t you remember ...’ began Emily.</p> + +<p>Yes, their mother had told them, on a visit to +their father’s general store in St. Anne’s, that in +London there were stores which not only sold toys +but which sold toys only. At that time they +hardly knew what toys were. A cousin in +England had once sent them out some expensive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span> +wax dolls, but even before the box was opened the +wax had melted: consequently the only dolls they +had were empty bottles, which they clothed with +bits of rag. These had another advantage over +the wax kind: you could feed them, poking it +into the neck. If you put in some water too, in +a day or so the food began to digest, visibly. The +bottles with square shoulders they called He-beasties, +and the bottles with round shoulders +they called She-beasties.</p> + +<p>Their other toys were mostly freakish sticks, and +different kinds of seeds and berries. No wonder +it seemed strange to them to imagine these things +in a shop. But the idea engaged them, nevertheless. +Down by the bathing-hole there were +several enormous cotton-trees, which lift themselves +on their roots right out of the earth, as on +stilts, making a big cage. One of these they +dubbed their toy-shop: decorated it up with lace-bark, +and strings of bright-coloured seeds, and +their other toys: then they would go inside and +take turns to sell them to each other. So now +this was the picture the phrase ‘toy-shop’ evoked +in them. No wonder the London kind was a +surprise to them, seemed a very far-fetched fulfilment +of the prophecy.</p> + +<p>The houses in Hammersmith are tall, roomy, +comfortable houses, though not big or aristocratic,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span> +with gardens running right down to the +river.</p> + +<p>It was a shock to them to find how dirty the +river was. The litter-strewn mud when the tide +was out somehow offended them much less than +the sewery water when it was up. At low tide +they would often climb down the wall and +scrounge about in the mud for things of value to +them happily enough. They stank like polecats +when they came up again. Their father was +sensible about dirt. He ordered a tub of water +to be kept permanently outside the basement door, +in which they must wash before entering the +house: but none of the other children in the +terrace were allowed to play in the mud at all.</p> + +<p>Emily did not play in the mud either: it was +only the little ones.</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton was generally at a theatre till the +small hours; and when he came home used to sit +and write, and then he would go out, about dawn, +to the post. The children were often awake in +time to hear him going to bed. He drank whisky +while he worked, and that helped him to sleep all +the morning (they had to be quiet too). But he +got up for luncheon, and then he often had battles +with their mother about the food. She would try +to make him eat it.</p> + +<p>All that spring they were an object of wonder to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span> +their acquaintances, as they had been on the +steamer; and also an object of pity. In the wide +world they had become almost national figures: +but it was easier to hide this from them then than +it would be nowadays. But people—friends—would +often come and tell them about the pirates: +what wicked men they were, and how cruelly they +had maltreated them. Children would generally +ask to see Emily’s scar. They were especially +sorry for Rachel and Laura, who, as being the +youngest, must have suffered most. These people +used also to tell them about John’s heroism, and +that he had died for his country just the same as if +he had grown up and become a real soldier: that +he had shown himself a true English gentleman, +like the knights of old were and the martyrs. +They were to grow up to be very proud of John, +who though still a child had dared to defy these +villains and die rather than allow anything to +happen to his sisters.</p> + +<p>The glorious deeds which Edward would +occasionally confess to were still received with an +admiration hardly at all tempered with incredulity. +He had the intuition, by now, to make them always +done in defiance of Jonsen and his crew, not, as +formerly, in alliance with or superseding them.</p> + +<p>The children listened to all they were told: and +according to their ages believed it. Having as<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span> +yet little sense of contradiction, they blended it +quite easily in their minds with their own memories; +or sometimes it even cast their memories out. +Who were they, children, to know better what had +happened to them than grown-ups?</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thornton was a feeling, but an essentially +Christian woman. The death of John was a blow +to her from which she would never recover, as +indeed the death of all of them had once been. +But she taught the children in saying their prayers +to thank God for John’s noble end and let it +always be an example to them: and then she +taught them to ask God to forgive the pirates for +all their cruelty to them. She explained to them +that God could only do this when they had been +properly punished on earth. The only one who +could not understand this at all was Laura—she +was, after all, rather young. She used the same +form of words as the others, yet contrived to +imagine that she was praying to the pirates, not +for them; so that it gradually came about that +whenever God was mentioned in her hearing +the face she imagined for Him was Captain +Jonsen’s.</p> + +<p>Once more a phase of their lives was receding +into the past, and crystallising into myth.</p> + +<p>Emily was too old to say her prayers aloud, so +no one could know whether she put in the same<span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span> +phrase as the others about the pirates or not. No +one, in point of fact, knew much what Emily was +thinking about anything, at that time.</p> + +<h3>iv</h3> + +<p>One day a cab came for the whole family, and +they drove together right into London. The cab +took them into the Temple: and then they had +to walk through twisting passages and up some +stairs.</p> + +<p>It was a day of full spring, and the large room +into which they were ushered faced south. The +windows were tall and heavily draped with curtains. +After the gloomy stairs it seemed all sunshine +and warmth. There was a big fire blazing, +and the furniture was massive and comfortable, +the dark carpet so thick it clung to their shoes.</p> + +<p>A young man was standing in front of the fire +when they came in. He was very correctly, indeed +beautifully dressed: and he was very handsome +as well, like a prince. He smiled at them all +pleasantly, and came forward and talked like an +old friend. The suspicious eyes of the Liddlies +soon accepted him as such. He gave their parents +cake and wine: and then he insisted on the children +being allowed a sip too, with some cake,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> +which was very kind of him. The taste of the +wine recalled to all of them that blowy night in +Jamaica: they had had none since.</p> + +<p>Soon some more people arrived. They were +Margaret and Harry, with a small, yellow, fanatical-looking +aunt. The two lots of children had not +seen each other for a long time: so they only said +Hallo to each other very perfunctorily. Mr. +Mathias, their host, was just as kind to the new +arrivals.</p> + +<p>Every one was at great pains to make the visit +appear a casual one; but the children all knew +more or less that it was nothing of the sort, that +something was presently going to happen. However, +they could play-act too. Rachel climbed +onto Mr. Mathias’s knee. They all gathered +round the fire, Emily sitting bolt upright on a +foot-stool, Edward and Laura side by side in a +capacious arm-chair.</p> + +<p>In the middle of every one talking there was a +pause, and Mr. Thornton, turning to Emily, said, +‘Why don’t you tell Mr. Mathias about your +adventures?’</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes!’ said Mr. Mathias, ‘do tell me all +about it. Let me see, you’re ...’</p> + +<p>‘Emily,’ whispered Mr. Thornton.</p> + +<p>‘Age?’</p> + +<p>‘Ten.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span>Mr. Mathias reached for a piece of clean paper +and a pen.</p> + +<p>‘What adventures?’ asked Emily clearly.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said Mr. Mathias, ‘you started for +England on a sailing-ship, didn’t you? The +<i>Clorinda</i>?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes. She was a barque.’</p> + +<p>‘And then what happened?’</p> + +<p>She paused before answering.</p> + +<p>‘There was a monkey,’ she said judicially.</p> + +<p>‘A monkey?’</p> + +<p>‘And a lot of turtles,’ put in Rachel.</p> + +<p>‘Tell him about the pirates,’ prompted Mrs. +Thornton. Mr. Mathias frowned at her slightly: +‘Let her tell it in her own words, please.’</p> + +<p>‘Oh yes,’ said Emily dully, ‘we were captured +by pirates, of course.’</p> + +<p>Both Edward and Laura had sat up at the word, +stiff as spokes.</p> + +<p>‘Weren’t you with them too, Miss Fernandez?’ +Mr. Mathias asked.</p> + +<p>Miss Fernandez! Every one turned to see who +he could mean. He was looking at Margaret.</p> + +<p>‘Me?’ she said suddenly, as if waking up.</p> + +<p>‘Yes, you! Go on!’ said her aunt.</p> + +<p>‘Say yes,’ prompted Edward. ‘You were with +us, weren’t you?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes,’ said Margaret, smiling.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span>‘Then why couldn’t you say so?’ hectored +Edward.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathias silently noted this curious treatment +of the eldest: and Mrs. Thornton told +Edward he mustn’t speak like that.</p> + +<p>‘Tell us what you remember about the capture, +will you?’ he asked, still of Margaret.</p> + +<p>‘The what?’</p> + +<p>‘Of how the pirates captured the <i>Clorinda</i>.’</p> + +<p>She looked round nervously and laughed, but +said nothing.</p> + +<p>‘The monkey was in the rigging, so they just +came on the ship,’ Rachel volunteered.</p> + +<p>‘Did they—er—fight with the sailors? Did +you see them hit anybody? Or threaten anybody?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes!’ cried Edward, and jumped up from his +chair, his eyes wide and inspired. ‘<i>Bing! Bang! +Bong!</i>’ he declared, thumping the seat at each +word; then sat down again.</p> + +<p>‘They didn’t,’ said Emily. ‘Don’t be silly, +Edward.’</p> + +<p>‘Bing, bang, bong,’ he repeated, with less +conviction.</p> + +<p>‘<i>Bung!</i>’ contributed Harry to his support, +from under the arm of the fanatical aunt.</p> + +<p>‘Bim-bam, bim-bam,’ sing-songed Laura, suddenly +waking up and starting a tattoo of her own.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span>‘Shut up!’ cried Mr. Thornton. ‘Did you, +or did you not, any of you, see them hit anybody?’</p> + +<p>‘Cut off their heads!’ cried Edward. ‘And +throw them in the sea!—Far, far ...’ his eyes +became dreamy and sad.</p> + +<p>‘They didn’t hit anybody,’ said Emily. ‘There +wasn’t any one to hit.’</p> + +<p>‘Then where were all the sailors?’ asked Mr. +Mathias.</p> + +<p>‘They were all up the rigging,’ said Emily.</p> + +<p>‘I see,’ said Mr. Mathias. ‘Er—didn’t you +say the monkey was in the rigging?’</p> + +<p>‘He broke his neck,’ said Rachel. She wrinkled +up her nose disgustedly: ‘He was drunk.’</p> + +<p>‘His tail was rotted,’ explained Harry.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said Mr. Mathias, ‘when they came on +board, what did they do?’</p> + +<p>There was a general silence.</p> + +<p>‘Come, come! What did they do?—What did +they do, Miss Fernandez?’</p> + +<p>‘I don’t know.’</p> + +<p>‘Emily?’</p> + +<p>‘<i>I</i> don’t know.’</p> + +<p>He sat back in despair: ‘But you saw them!’</p> + +<p>‘No we didn’t,’ said Emily, ‘we went in the +deck-house.’</p> + +<p>‘And stayed there?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>‘We couldn’t open the door.’</p> + +<p>‘<i>Bang-bang-bang!</i>’ Laura suddenly rapped out.</p> + +<p>‘Shut up!’</p> + +<p>‘And then, when they let you out?’</p> + +<p>‘We went on the schooner.’</p> + +<p>‘Were you frightened?’</p> + +<p>‘What of?’</p> + +<p>‘Well: them.’</p> + +<p>‘Who?’</p> + +<p>‘The pirates.’</p> + +<p>‘Why should we?’</p> + +<p>‘They didn’t do anything to frighten you?’</p> + +<p>‘To <i>frighten</i> us?’</p> + +<p>‘Coo! José did belch!’ Edward interjected +merrily, and began giving an imitation. Mrs. +Thornton chid him.</p> + +<p>‘Now,’ said Mr. Mathias gravely, ‘there’s +something I want you to tell me, Emily. When +you were with the pirates, did they ever do anything +you didn’t like? You know what I mean, +something <i>nasty</i>?’</p> + +<p>‘Yes!’ cried Rachel, and every one turned to +her. ‘He talked about drawers,’ she said in a +shocked voice.</p> + +<p>‘What did he say?’</p> + +<p>‘He told us once not to toboggan down the +deck on them,’ put in Emily uncomfortably.</p> + +<p>‘Was that all?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>‘He shouldn’t have talked about drawers,’ said +Rachel.</p> + +<p>‘Don’t <i>you</i> talk about them, then,’ cried Edward: +‘Smarty!’</p> + +<p>‘Miss Fernandez,’ said the lawyer diffidently, +‘have you anything to add to that?’</p> + +<p>‘What?’</p> + +<p>‘Well ... what we are talking about.’</p> + +<p>She looked from one person to another, but +said nothing.</p> + +<p>‘I don’t want to press you for details,’ he said +gently, ‘but did they ever—well, make suggestions +to you?’</p> + +<p>Emily fixed her glowing eyes on Margaret, +catching hers.</p> + +<p>‘It’s no good questioning Margaret,’ said the +Aunt morosely; ‘but it ought to be perfectly clear +to you what has happened.’</p> + +<p>‘Then I am afraid I must,’ said Mr. Mathias. +‘Another time, perhaps.’</p> + +<p>Mrs. Thornton had for some while been frowning +and pursing her lips, to stop him.</p> + +<p>‘Another time would be much better,’ she said: +and Mr. Mathias turned the examination back to +the capture of the <i>Clorinda</i>.</p> + +<p>But they seemed to have been strangely unobservant +of what went on around them, he +found.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></p> + +<h3>v</h3> + +<p>When the others had all gone, Mathias offered +Thornton, whom he liked, a cigar: and the two +sat together for a while over the fire.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ said Thornton, ‘did the interview go +as you had expected?’</p> + +<p>‘Pretty much.’</p> + +<p>‘I noticed you questioned them chiefly about +the <i>Clorinda</i>. But you have got all the information +you need on that score, surely?’</p> + +<p>‘Naturally I did. Anything they affirmed I +could check exactly by Marpole’s detailed affidavit. +I wanted to test their reliability.’</p> + +<p>‘And you found?’</p> + +<p>‘What I have always known. That I would +rather have to extract information from the devil +himself than from a child.’</p> + +<p>‘But what information, exactly, do you want?’</p> + +<p>‘Everything. The whole story.’</p> + +<p>‘You know it.’</p> + +<p>Mathias spoke with a dash of exasperation:</p> + +<p>‘Do you realise, Thornton, that without considerable +help from them we may even fail to get +a conviction?’</p> + +<p>‘What is the difficulty?’ asked Thornton in a +peculiar, restrained tone.</p> + +<p>‘We could get a conviction for piracy, of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> +course. But since ’37, piracy has ceased to be +a hanging offence unless it is accompanied by +murder.’</p> + +<p>‘And is the killing of one small boy insufficient +to count as murder?’ asked Thornton in the same +cold voice.</p> + +<p>Mathias looked at him curiously.</p> + +<p>‘We can guess at the probabilities of what +happened,’ he said. ‘The boy was undoubtedly +taken onto the schooner; and now he can’t be +found. But, strictly speaking, we have no proof +that he is dead.’</p> + +<p>‘He may, of course, have swum across the Gulf +of Mexico and landed at New Orleans.’</p> + +<p>Thornton’s cigar, as he finished speaking, +snapped in two.</p> + +<p>‘I know this is ...’ began Mathias with professional +gentleness, then had the sense to check +himself. ‘I am afraid there is no doubt that we +can personally entertain that the lad is dead: but +there is a legal doubt: and where there is a legal +doubt a jury might well refuse to convict.’</p> + +<p>‘Unless they were carried away by an attack of +common sense.’</p> + +<p>Mathias paused for a moment before asking:</p> + +<p>‘And the other children have dropped, as yet, +no hint as to what precisely did happen to him?’</p> + +<p>‘None.’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>‘Their mother has questioned them?’</p> + +<p>‘Exhaustively.’</p> + +<p>‘Yet they must surely know.’</p> + +<p>‘It is a great pity,’ said Thornton, deliberately, +‘that when the pirates decided to kill the child, +they did not invite in his sisters to watch.’</p> + +<p>Mathias was ready to make allowances. He +merely shifted his position and cleared his voice.</p> + +<p>‘Unless we can get definite evidence of murder, +either of your boy or the Dutch captain, I am afraid +there is a very real danger of these men escaping +with their lives: though they would of course be +transported.—It’s all highly unsatisfactory, Thornton,’ +he went on confidentially. ‘We do not, as +lawyers, like aiming at a conviction for piracy alone. +It is too vague. The most eminent jurists have +not even yet decided on a satisfactory definition +of piracy. I doubt, now, if they ever will. One +school holds that it is any felony committed on the +High Seas. But that does little except render a +separate term otiose. Moreover, it is not accepted +by other schools of thought.’</p> + +<p>‘To the layman, at least, it would seem to be a +queer sort of piracy to commit suicide in one’s +cabin, or perform an illegal operation on the +captain’s daughter!’</p> + +<p>‘Well, you see the difficulties. Consequently +we always prefer to make use of it simply as a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span> +make-weight with another more serious charge. +Captain Kidd, for instance, was not, strictly speaking, +hanged for piracy. The first count in his +indictment, on which he was condemned, sets +forth that he feloniously, intentionally, and with +malice aforethought hit his own gunner on the +head with a wooden bucket value eightpence. +That is something definite. What <i>we</i> need is +something definite. We have not got it. Take the +second case, the piracy of the Dutch steamer. We +are in the same difficulty there: a man is taken on +board the schooner, he disappears. What happened? +We can only surmise.’</p> + +<p>‘Isn’t there such a thing as turning King’s +Evidence?’</p> + +<p>‘Another most unsatisfactory proceeding, to +which I should be loath to have recourse. No, +the natural and proper witnesses are the children. +There is a kind of beauty in making them, who +have suffered so much at these men’s hands, the +instruments of justice upon them.’</p> + +<p>Mathias paused, and looked at Thornton +narrowly.</p> + +<p>‘You haven’t been able, in all these weeks, to +get the smallest hint from them with regard to the +death of Captain Vandervoort either?’</p> + +<p>‘None.’</p> + +<p>‘Well, is it your impression that they do truly<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span> +know nothing, or that they have been terrorised +into hiding something?’</p> + +<p>Thornton gave a gentle sigh, almost of relief.</p> + +<p>‘No,’ he said, ‘I don’t think they have been +terrorised. But I do think they may know something +they won’t tell.’</p> + +<p>‘But why?’</p> + +<p>‘Because, during the time they were on the +schooner, it is plain they got very fond of this +man Jonsen, and of his lieutenant, the man called +Otto.’</p> + +<p>Mathias was incredulous.</p> + +<p>‘Is it possible for children to be mistaken in a +man’s whole nature like that?’</p> + +<p>The look of irony on Thornton’s face attained +an intensity that was almost diabolical.</p> + +<p>‘I think it is possible,’ he said, ‘even for children +to make such a mistake.’</p> + +<p>‘But this ... affection: it is highly improbable.’</p> + +<p>‘It is a fact.’</p> + +<p>Mathias shrugged. After all, a criminal lawyer +is not concerned with facts. He is concerned +with probabilities. It is the novelist who is concerned +with facts, whose job it is to say what a +particular man did do on a particular occasion: +the lawyer does not, cannot be expected to go +further than to show what the ordinary man would +be most likely to do under presumed circumstances.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>Mathias, as he conned these paradoxes, smiled +to himself a little grimly. It would never do to +give utterance to them.</p> + +<p>‘I think if they know anything I shall be able to +find it out,’ was all he said.</p> + +<p>‘D’you mean to put them in the box?’ Thornton +asked suddenly.</p> + +<p>‘Not all of them, certainly: Heaven forbid! +But we shall have to produce one of them at least, +I am afraid.’</p> + +<p>‘Which?’</p> + +<p>‘Well. We had intended it to be the Fernandez +girl. But she seems ... unsatisfactory?’</p> + +<p>‘Exactly.’ Then Thornton added, with a characteristic +forward jerk: ‘She was sane enough +when she left Jamaica.—Though always a bit of +a fool.’</p> + +<p>‘Her aunt tells me that she seems to have lost +her memory: or a great part of it. No, if I call +her it will simply be to exhibit her condition.’</p> + +<p>‘Then?’</p> + +<p>‘I think I shall call your Emily.’</p> + +<p>Thornton stood up.</p> + +<p>‘Well,’ he said, ‘you’ll have to settle with her +yourself what she’s to say. Write it out, and +make her learn it by heart.’</p> + +<p>‘Certainly,’ said Mathias, looking at his finger-nails. +‘I am not in the habit of going into court<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span> +unprepared.—It’s bad enough having a child in +the box anyway,’ he went on.</p> + +<p>Thornton paused at the door.</p> + +<p>‘—You can never count on them. They say +what they think you want them to say. And then +they say what they think the opposing counsel +wants them to say too—if they like his face.’</p> + +<p>Thornton gesticulated—a foreign habit.</p> + +<p>‘I think I will take her to Madame Tussaud’s on +Thursday afternoon and try my luck,’ ended +Mathias: and the two bade each other good-bye.</p> + +<h3>vi</h3> + +<p>Emily enjoyed the wax-works; even though +she did not know that a wax-work of Captain +Jonsen, his scowling face bloody and a knife in his +hand, was already in contemplation. She got on +well with Mr. Mathias. She felt very grown-up, +going out at last without the little ones endlessly +tagging. Afterwards he took her to a bun-shop +in Baker Street, and tried to persuade her to pour +out his tea for him: but she turned shy at that, +and he had in the end to do it for himself.</p> + +<p>Mr. Mathias, like Miss Dawson, spent a good +deal of his time and energy in courting the child’s +liking. He was at least sufficiently successful for<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span> +it to come as a complete surprise to her when +presently he began to throw out questions about +the death of Captain Vandervoort. Their studied +casualness did not deceive her for a moment. He +learnt nothing: but she was hardly home, and his +carriage departed, than she was violently sick. +Presumably she had eaten too many cream buns. +But, as she lay in bed sipping from a tumbler of +water in that mood of fatalism which follows on +the heels of vomiting, Emily had a lot to think +over, as well as an opportunity of doing so without +emotion.</p> + +<p>Her father was spending a rare evening at home: +and now he stood unseen in the shadows of her +bedroom, watching her. To his fantastic mind, +the little chit seemed the stage of a great tragedy: +and while his bowels of compassion yearned towards +the child of his loins, his intellect was +delighted at the beautiful, the subtle combination +of the contending forces which he read into the +situation. He was like a powerless stalled audience, +which pities unbearably, but would not on +any account have missed the play.</p> + +<p>But as he stood now watching her, his sensitive +eyes communicated to him an emotion which was +not pity and was not delight: he realised, with a +sudden painful shock, that he was afraid of her!</p> + +<p>But surely it was some trick of the candle-light,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span> +or of her indisposition, that gave her face momentarily +that inhuman, stony, basilisk look?</p> + +<p>Just as he was tiptoeing from the room, she +burst out into a sudden, despairing moan, and +leaning half out of her bed began again an ineffectual, +painful retching. Thornton persuaded +her to drink off her tumbler of water, and then +held her hot moist temples between his hands till +at last she sank back, exhausted, in a complete +passivity, and slipped off to sleep.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>There were several occasions after this when +Mr. Mathias took her out on excursions, or simply +came and examined her at the house. But still he +learnt nothing.</p> + +<p>What was in her mind now? I can no longer +read Emily’s deeper thoughts, or handle their +cords. Henceforth we must be content to surmise.</p> + +<p>As for Mathias, there was nothing for it but to +accept defeat at her hands, and then explain it +away to himself. He ceased to believe that she +had anything to hide, because, if she had, he was +convinced she could not have hidden it.</p> + +<p>But if she could not give him any information, +she remained, spectacularly speaking, a most +valuable witness. So, as Thornton had suggested, +he set his clerk to copy out in his beautiful hand a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span> +sort of Shorter Catechism: and this he gave to +Emily and told her to learn it.</p> + +<p>She took it home and showed it to her mother, +who said Mr. Mathias was quite right, she was to +learn it. So Emily pinned it to her looking-glass, +and learnt the answers to two new questions every +morning. Her mother heard her these with her +other lessons, and badgered her a lot for the +sing-song way she repeated them. But how can +one speak naturally anything learnt by heart, Emily +wondered? It is impossible. And Emily knew +this catechism backwards and forwards, inside and +out, before the day came.</p> + +<hr class="tb"> + +<p>Once more they drove into town: but this time +it was to the Central Criminal Court. The crowd +outside was enormous, and Emily was bundled in +with the greatest rapidity. The building was +impressive, and full of policemen, and the longer +she had to wait in the little room where they were +shown, the more nervous she became. Would +she remember her piece, or would she forget it? +From time to time echoing voices sounded down +the corridors, summoning this person or that. +Her mother stayed with her, but her father only +looked in occasionally, when he would give some +news to her mother in a low tone. Emily had her +catechism with her, and read it over and over.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>Finally a policeman came, and conducted them +into the court.</p> + +<p>A criminal court is a very curious place. The +seat of a ritual quite as elaborate as any religious +one, it lacks in itself any impressiveness or symbolism +of architecture. A robed judge in court looks +like a catholic bishop would if he were to celebrate +mass in some municipal bath-house. There +is nothing to make one aware that here the Real +Presence is: the presence of death.</p> + +<p>As Emily came into court, past the many men +in black gowns writing with their quill pens, she +did not at first see judge, jury, or prisoners. Her +eye was caught by the face of the Clerk, where he +sat below the Bench. It was an old and very +beautiful face, cultured, unearthly refined. His +head laid back, his mouth slightly open, his eyes +closed, he was gently sleeping.</p> + +<p>That face remained etched on her mind as she +was shown her way into the box. The Oath, +which formed the opening passages of her catechism, +was administered; and with its familiar +phrases her nervousness vanished, and with complete +confidence she sang out her responses to the +familiar questions which Mr. Mathias, in fancy +dress, was putting to her. But until he had +finished she kept her eyes fixed on the rail in front +of her, for fear something should confuse her.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span> +At last, however, Mr. Mathias sat down; and +Emily began to look around her. High above +the sleeping man sat another, with a face even +more refined, but wide awake. His voice, when +now he spoke a few words to her, was the kindest +she had ever heard. Dressed in his strange disguise, +toying with a pretty nosegay, he looked like +some benign old wizard who spent his magic in +doing good.</p> + +<p>Beneath her was the table where so many other +wigged men were sitting. One was drawing +funny faces: but his own was grave. Two more +were whispering together.</p> + +<p>Now another man was on his feet. He was +shorter than Mr. Mathias, and older, and in no +way good-looking or even interesting. He in +turn began to ask her questions.</p> + +<p>He, Watkin, the defending counsel, was no fool. +He had not failed to notice that, among all the +questions Mathias had put to her, there had been +no reference to the death of Captain Vandervoort. +That must mean that either the child knew nothing +of it—itself a valuable lacuna in the evidence +to establish, or that what she did know was +somehow in his clients’ favour. Up till now he +had meant to pursue the obvious tactics—question +her on the evidence she had already given, +perhaps frighten her, at any rate confuse her and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_280">[280]</span> +make her contradict herself. But any one, even a +jury, could see through that. Nor was there any +hope, under any circumstances, of a total acquittal: +the most he could hope for was escape from the +murder charge.</p> + +<p>He suddenly decided to change his whole policy. +When he spoke, his voice too was kind (though +it lacked perforce the full benign timbre of the +judge’s). He made no attempt to confuse her. +By his sympathy with her, he hoped for the sympathy, +himself, of the court.</p> + +<p>His first few questions were of a general nature: +and he continued them until her answers were +given with complete confidence.</p> + +<p>‘Now, my dear young lady,’ he said at last. +‘There is just one more question I want to ask +you: and please answer it loudly and clearly, so +that we can all hear. We have been told about +the Dutch Steamer, which had the animals on +board. Now a very horrible thing has been +suggested. It has been said that a man was taken +off the steamer, the captain of it in fact, onto the +schooner, and that he was murdered there. Now +what I want to ask you is this. Did you see any +such thing happen?’</p> + +<p>Those who were watching the self-contained +Emily saw her turn very white and begin to +tremble. Suddenly she gave a shriek: then after<span class="pagenum" id="Page_281">[281]</span> +a second’s pause she began to sob. Every one +listened in an icy stillness, their hearts in their +mouths. Through her tears they heard, they all +heard, the words: ‘... He was all lying in his +blood ... he was awful! He ... he died, he said +something and then he <i>died</i>!’</p> + +<p>That was all that was articulate. Watkin sat +down, thunderstruck. The effect on the court +could hardly have been greater. As for Mathias, +he did not show surprise: he looked more like a +man who has digged a pit into which his enemy +has fallen.</p> + +<p>The judge leant forward and tried to question +her: but she only sobbed and screamed. He +tried to soothe her: but by now she had become +too hysterical for that. She had already, however, +said quite enough for the matter in hand: and +they let her father come forward and lift her out +of the box.</p> + +<p>As he stepped down with her she caught sight +for the first time of Jonsen and the crew, huddled +up together in a sort of pen. But they were much +thinner than the last time she had seen them. The +terrible look on Jonsen’s face as his eye met hers, +what was it that it reminded her of?</p> + +<p>Her father hurried her home. As soon as she +was in the cab she became herself again with a +surprising rapidity. She began to talk about all<span class="pagenum" id="Page_282">[282]</span> +she had seen, just as if it had been a party: the +man asleep, and the man drawing funny faces, and +the man with the bunch of flowers, and had she +said her piece properly?</p> + +<p>‘Captain was there,’ she said. ‘Did you see +him?’</p> + +<p>‘What was it all about?’ she asked presently. +‘Why did I have to learn all those questions?’</p> + +<p>Mr. Thornton made no attempt to answer her +questions: he even shrank back, physically, from +touching his child Emily. His mind reeled with +the many possibilities. Was it conceivable she +was such an idiot as really not to know what it was +all about? Could she possibly not know what +she had done? He stole a look at her innocent +little face, even the tear-stains now gone. What +was he to think?</p> + +<p>But as if she read his thoughts, he saw a faint +cloud gather.</p> + +<p>‘What are they going to do to Captain?’ she +asked, a faint hint of anxiety in her voice.</p> + +<p>Still he made no answer. In Emily’s head the +Captain’s face, as she had last seen it ... what was +it she was trying to remember?</p> + +<p>Suddenly she burst out:</p> + +<p>‘Father, <i>what</i> happened to Tabby in the end, +that dreadful windy night in Jamaica?’</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_283">[283]</span></p> + +<h3>vii</h3> + +<p>Trials are quickly over, once they begin. It +was no time before the judge had condemned +these prisoners to death and was trying some +one else with the same concentrated, benevolent, +individual attention.</p> + +<p>Afterwards, a few of the crew were reprieved +and transported.</p> + +<p>The night before the execution, Jonsen managed +to cut his throat: but they found out in time +to bandage him up. He was unconscious by the +morning, and had to be carried to the gallows in a +chair: indeed, he was finally hanged in it. Otto +bent over once and kissed his forehead; but he +was completely insensible.</p> + +<p>It was the negro cook, however, according to +the account in the <i>Times</i>, who figured most prominently. +He showed no fear of death himself, and +tried to comfort the others.</p> + +<p>‘We have all come here to die,’ he said. ‘<i>That</i>’ +(pointing to the gallows) ‘was not built for +nothing. We shall certainly end our lives in this +place: nothing can now save us. But in a few +years we should die in any case. In a few years +the judge who condemned us, all men now living, +will be dead. <i>You</i> know that I die innocent: anything +I have done, I was forced to do by the rest of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_284">[284]</span> +you. But I am not sorry. I would rather die +now, innocent, than in a few years perhaps guilty +of some great sin.’</p> + +<h3>viii</h3> + +<p>It was a few days later that term began, and +Mr. and Mrs. Thornton took Emily to her new +school at Blackheath. While they remained to +tea with the head mistress, Emily was introduced +to her new playmates.</p> + +<p>‘Poor little thing,’ said the mistress, ‘I hope she +will soon forget the terrible things she has been +through. I think our girls will have an especially +kind corner in their hearts for her.’</p> + +<p>In another room, Emily with the other new +girls was making friends with the older pupils. +Looking at that gentle, happy throng of clean +innocent faces and soft graceful limbs, listening to +the ceaseless, artless babble of chatter rising, +perhaps God could have picked out from among +them which was Emily: but I am sure that I +could not.</p> + +<p class="center">FINIS</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<p class="ph1">FOOTNOTE:</p> +</div> + +<div class="footnote"> + +<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[1]</a> The tiger-shark of the South Seas is of course a very different +cattle.</p> + +</div> +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> +<div class="transnote"> +<p class="ph1">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:</p> + + +<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p> + +<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.</p> + +<p>Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.</p> + +<p>New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the public domain.</p> +</div></div> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75530 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/75530-h/images/cover.jpg b/75530-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b979050 --- /dev/null +++ b/75530-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/75530-h/images/coversmall.jpg b/75530-h/images/coversmall.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f9d481 --- /dev/null +++ b/75530-h/images/coversmall.jpg diff --git a/75530-h/images/titlepage.jpg b/75530-h/images/titlepage.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad14b59 --- /dev/null +++ b/75530-h/images/titlepage.jpg |
