Down at the wharf there was much bustle
and stir. Vessels were lading for various home
ports, fishing craft were going out on their ventures,
even a whaler had just fitted up for a long cruise,
and the young as well as middle-aged sailors were
shouting out farewells. White and black men were
running to and fro, laughing, chaffing, and swearing
at each other.
There lay the East Indiaman, with
her foreign flag as well as that of her country.
She had come in about midnight and at early dawn preliminaries
had begun. Captain Corwin had been ashore a time
or two, looking up and down amid the motley throng,
and now he touched his hat and nodded to Chilian Leverett,
who picked his way over to him.
“We are somewhat late,”
he began apologetically. “A little due to
rough weather, but one can never fix an exact date.”
“All is well, I hope;” in an anxious tone.
“Yes; the child proved a good
sailor and was much interested in everything.
I was afraid she would take it hard. But she is
counting on her father’s coming. I don’t
know how you will ever console her when she learns
the truth.”
“And he ”
Chilian looked intently into the captain’s eyes.
“I suppose the end has come
before this. They thought he might last a month
when we left. It’s sad enough. He should
have lived to be ninety. But matters went well
with him, and he has been an honest, kindly, upright
man with a large heart. I’ve lost my best
friend and adviser.”
The captain drew his rough coat-sleeve
across his face and looked past Chilian, winking hard.
“There’s a sight of business
when we come to that, Mr. Leverett, but now will
you go on board? The maid is a most excellent
and sensible person. They are in the cabin.”
“Yes,” he answered and
followed with a curious throb at his heart pity
for the orphaned child and a sense of responsibility
he was conscious that he accepted unwillingly, yet
he would do his duty to the uttermost.
Already some officials were on hand,
for at this period Salem was really a notable port.
Chilian passed them with a bow, followed the captain
down the gangplank, stared a little at the foreign
deck-hands in their odd habiliments, stepped over
boxes and bales in canvas and matting full of Oriental
fragrance that from the closeness was almost stifling,
coming from the clear air. Then he was ushered
into the cabin, that was replete with Orientalism
as well.
A rather tall woman rose to meet him.
“This is Mistress Rachel Winn,
who has mothered the little girl for several years,
Mr. Leverett, her relative and guardian, and Cynthia ”
The child threw herself down on the couch.
“I want to go back home.
I want to see my father, and Aymeer, and Babo, and
Nalla. I can’t stay here.”
“But perhaps your father will
bring them when he comes. Don’t you remember
he told you he lived here when he was a little boy,
and what nice times he had with the cousin he loved?
And the cousin is here to bid you welcome. Come
and speak to him. We cannot go back at once, the
ship has to unload her cargo and take in ever so many
other things. See, here is Cousin Leverett.”
She sat up, made a forward movement
as if she would rise, but simply stared.
“Yes, I am Cousin Leverett.”
He began advancing and held out his hand.
“And very glad to see such an
excellent traveller as you have been,” said
the captain. “And such a nice little girl.
You are an American girl; you know your father told
you that. And this is your native town.
Cousin Leverett remembers you when you were very little.”
“But I don’t remember
you;” taking no notice of the proffered hand.
“Then you must get acquainted
with me. And you must tell me about your life
and your father, whom I have not seen in a long, long
time. Let us shake hands.”
She held out hers then and raised herself to her feet.
“Oh, how soft your hands are,”
she cried, “just like Nalla’s. But
they are very white. Nalla’s were brown.”
“And who was Nalla?”
“She used to come and play with
me and make chains out of shells, and make bracelets
and anklets, and dance. And she used to go to
the Sahibs’ house and dance with snakes.
I’m afraid of them. Are you?”
“Indeed I am, of the large ones,” he said
at a venture.
He fancied that he felt a gentle pressure
of sympathetic approval. She glanced up for an
instant and her eyes transfixed him. They were
a deep wonderful blue, almost black at the pupil,
then raying off a little lighter. It made him
think of a star in the winter midnight sky with a
halo around it. The lashes were long and nearly
black. Otherwise she had little claim to beauty
just then. Her complexion had a tawny hue made
by sun and wind, her hair was light, but it had a
peculiar sunburned tint, though it was fine and abundant
and hung in loose curls about her shoulders.
Her nose was the only Leverett feature it
was straight, rather small, and had the flexibility
that betrayed passing emotions. The Leverett
lips were thin, hers were full in the middle, giving
a certain roundness to the mouth.
“Are there any where you live?” hesitatingly.
“Any?” Then he recalled
the subject they had touched upon. “Oh,
no; you seldom see them, and they are mostly harmless.”
“Have you any little girls in your house?”
“No, I am sorry to say.”
“There were two little English
girls on shipboard at first. They went on board
another vessel after a while. I liked them very
much. They knew a great many things about countries.
I can read, but I don’t a great deal. Sometimes
father would tell me about America. There are
a great many countries in it, and once they had a
big war. They had wars, too, in India. Why
must people kill each other?”
“There seem to be reasons.
A little girl could not understand them all, I think;”
and how could he explain them?
“Oh, there is Captain Corwin!”
She flew across the cabin with outstretched arms,
which she clasped about him.
“Well, have you been getting
acquainted with he will be your uncle, I
suppose. What title are you going to take with
the child, Mr. Leverett?”
Chilian Leverett colored, without
a cause he thought, and it annoyed him.
“Are you going back to India
to-day?” She was not interested in Chilian Leverett’s
answer.
Captain Corwin laughed heartily and patted her shoulder.
“Not to-day, nor even next week.
The cargo will have to be taken off, little missy,
and a new one stowed away. And I fancy there must
be some repairs. I shall stay in town and run
down to Marblehead. So you will see me quite
often.”
“And you are coming back again from India?”
“Oh, I hope so. More than once.”
“You will bring father then.
It is such a long while to wait;” and she sighed.
The men exchanged glances.
“I want to see him so much. Couldn’t
I go back with you?”
“Don’t you remember I
told you the other evening he might start before I
reached India again? Don’t you want to go
ashore and see Salem? Ask Miss Rachel to get
you ready.”
Rachel was beckoning to her.
“Let us go up on deck,” she said.
“It’s a strange country to me as well
as to you. And I fancy the men want to talk.”
She crossed the cabin slowly, not
quite certain what she did desire most, except to
see her father.
“You will have a rather sorry
task. But Captain Ant’ny would have it so.
He wanted to feel that she would be among friends.
He had the fullest confidence that you could manage
wisely. There is a great box of papers, instructions,
etc. You are appointed her guardian and trustee.
I’ve brought boxes of stuff that the officers
will have to go through. But the legal matters
you may take with you. He tried to make it as
easy as he could. She will have considerable
of a fortune, and more to come when matters get settled
on the other side. A cousin of the Bannings came
out, English are great hands to keep things
in the family. But it is one of the biggest importing
houses out there and it owes its success to the long
and wise head of Captain Anthony. They want young
Banning in it and the matter was about settled when
we came away, but the payments will run over several
years. All these papers will be sent to you.
The Bannings are upright business men, and I think
you need have no fear. But the child’s
fortune is to be invested on this side of the water.
Oh, you cannot realize what a trial it was to give
up all thoughts of ending his days here.”
Captain Corwin brushed some tears
from his honest, weather-beaten face.
“But if he had started earlier ”
“He would not believe the trouble
would prove fatal. And when it was declared there
was so much to put in order. Then he could not
bear to think of leaving his wife alone there, though
it’s only the shell after all, and, if we believe
the Good Book, we shall see the real part over there
that was so much to us. But he could not explain
the parting to the child, though death is such a common
thing out there. Yet it is hard to believe
our own can die. We are never ready for that.
How you will manage ”
The customs officers had come.
Captain Corwin went out to meet them. Chilian
Leverett dropped into the well-worn leather-covered
chair that had been fine in its day. A heavy
burthen had been laid upon him. He was not fond
of business. Cousin Giles might be of some assistance;
he grasped at the thought as if he had been a drowning
man and this the straw. And the child, somehow,
was different from the average child, he felt; though
he was not certain what the average child would unfold
day after day. What would Elizabeth think?
Eunice he could count on. Though she yielded
on many points in that tacit sort of way, she was by
no means an echo of her sister.
The three men entered the cabin.
Chilian was no stranger to the officials, who greeted
him cordially and who sympathized with Captain Anthony
Leverett’s untimely ending, as he was hardly
past middle life.
“Why, it will be quite a change
to have a child in your household,” said Josiah
Ward. “But if she is like mine, I advise
you not to give her the run of your study. But
there are two ladies to look after her;” and
he smiled.
It was surmised that Mr. Ward, a widower
of two years’ standing, had glanced more than
once in the direction of Miss Eunice Leverett.
Rachel came back at this juncture.
The little girl had an accession of shyness and would
only nod to the strangers. Then they made ready
to leave the vessel. Chilian took his japanned
case of important papers; the rest of the luggage
would be sent after inspection.
A primitive street it was in those
days, and the fine wharves of the present were rather
rude if busy places. Over beyond they could see
the river, South River, and
that was alive with various small craft.
“It seems almost like home,”
said Rachel Winn, pausing to take a survey. “You
do not find this rural aspect in India.”
“How long were you there?” asked Chilian.
“Seven years. I went out
with my brother, who had just married my dearest friend.
He died the third year, and she soon after married
a military man. Then I took charge of a little
lame boy and was mostly up in the mountains until
he was sent to England, when Captain Leverett’s
hospitable doors opened to me. Believe me, I was
sorry to leave him at this crisis. Yet it was
his wish;” and she glanced at Cynthia.
“Why did we come away?”
demanded the child passionately. “Oh, Rachel,
are you sure father will come? It takes so long,
so long;” and there were tears in her voice.
“Here we are!” exclaimed Chilian.
There was a white picket fence across
the sort of courtyard that had a broad paved path
leading up to the front door, bordered by shrubs that
would presently be in bloom, and spaces between for
smaller plants. This was the delight of Eunice’s
heart. A square but rather ornate porch, with
fluted columns, supporting the outer edge of the roof,
and an elaborately carved hall-door with a fanlight
overhead. The stoop stood up some five steps,
and at the sides there were benches for out-of-doors
comfort on summer nights. A brass knocker, with
a lion’s head, announced visitors. Chilian,
however, let himself in with his latchkey. But
both sisters met the party in the hall.
“And this is Anthony’s
little girl!” said Elizabeth. “Child,
let me look at you ”
But the child had a perverse fit at
that moment and turned away her head, to the elder’s
surprise and almost displeasure.
“This is Miss Winn,” interrupted
Chilian. “My household guardians and cousins,
Miss Elizabeth and Miss Eunice Leverett. I dare
say our guests feel strange to be on land, after such
a long journey.”
“It seems almost incredible
that one can stand it, but we see them starting every
few days for distant ports. My farthest journey
has been to Providence; but, land alive! you don’t
know where that is, and it’s no great distance.
Will you not come and have a cup of tea or coffee?”
“Thank you. We had breakfast not long ago,
it seems.”
“Let me take you to your room,”
said Eunice. “And I hope you will soon
feel at home with us. We are quiet people, but
we shall endeavor to make you comfortable. Cynthia,
will you not shake hands with me?”
The soft, rather pleading voice attracted
the child. She glanced up shyly and then held
out a tiny hand hesitatingly.
“She is rather backward at first,”
explained Rachel, who followed the hostess up the
broad stairway.
One of the guest-chambers had been
set aside for their use after much discussion as to
whether one or two would be needed. A smaller
one opened into this, and a large closet was at the
side.
“You can take off your things I
suppose your boxes, or whatever you have, will be
here presently. The bureau is empty and this chest
of drawers. We are rather old-fashioned people,
and the house is the same as it was in the time of
Chilian’s father. The captain made one visit
here, when the little girl was about four. It
must have been hard for him to lose his wife in a
strange country like that. I suppose there are
not many Americans?”
“No; there are numbers of Englishwomen,
wives of soldiers and traders, though I think most
of them long to get home. They do not seem to
take root easily.”
“I shouldn’t think they
would, in that idolatrous country. The accounts
of heathendom are appalling. And that car of Juggernaut,
and drowning their poor little babies! They do
not seem to make much of girl children.”
“Indeed, they do not, only as
in some families they are wanted for wives. But
the devotion of mothers to their sons is wonderful.”
Rachel had laid aside a silk coat
that filled Eunice with a sort of wonder, being brocaded
with beautiful leaves and roses that seemed as if
they must have been worked by hand, they stood out
so clearly. The child appeared fantastically
attired to her plainer eyes, and her slim arms were
weighted with bracelets. In her dainty ears were
some splendid sapphires.
“I do hope you will soon feel
at home,” Eunice said from a full heart, if
there was a rather awkward feeling about it. Yet
she liked Miss Winn’s face. It had a kindly
and intelligent aspect and was medium in all respects.
The social lines in the town, indeed in all the Eastern
towns, were not sharply defined as to mistress and
maid. True, many households preferred black servants;
in not a few some elderly relative looked after the
household, or a bound-out girl was trained in industrious
ways.
There had been some discussion as
to what sphere this Miss Winn would occupy. If
she was simply the attendant on an over-indulged child,
an uneducated person, as many of the English maids
were who came over to better their conditions or get
husbands, it might be rather awkward. But the
woman was certainly well-bred and used her English
in a correct manner.
“Perhaps you will get to feeling
more at home if you come down to the sitting-room,
since there is nothing to unpack;” with a faint
smile.
Cynthia had been looking out of the
window. “How queer it all is!” she
said. “I think I do not quite like it.
And how funny one feels. I want to go this way;”
and she swayed from side to side.
“The motion of the vessel,”
interposed Rachel. “I have heard it took
days to get over it.”
Meanwhile, downstairs Elizabeth had
studied her Cousin Chilian.
“The child is not at all pretty,”
she began rather sharply. “And her mother
was considered a beautiful young woman, I believe.”
“Yes; but a long voyage and
shipboard living may not be conducive to the development
of beauty. And children seldom are at that age.”
“The Goodell children are pretty,
I am sure, with their fine complexions.
And the Bates girls. She has a furtive sort of
look. Oh, I hope she isn’t deceitful and
untrue. Those heathen nations, I believe, are
given largely to falsehood, and she has lived among
them so long without any mother’s care.
It seems as if a pretty girl like Alletta Orne
might have found some one at home to marry and reared
her child in a Christian land.”
“Do not let us begin by borrowing
trouble. It always comes fast enough.”
“And I can foresee that we shall
have plenty of it. Well, I suppose it must be
endured. There! my bread is light enough to go
in the oven running over, likely as not.”
So, when they came downstairs, Miss
Elizabeth was in the kitchen, immersed in her baking
interest.
A large gray cat lay curled up on
a cushion. Cynthia went straight over to it,
but it glanced at her with wild eyes, jumped down,
and disappeared through the doorway.
“Oh!” she exclaimed in
accents of disappointment, glancing up at Chilian.
“Pussy is not used to children.
He always runs away from them. But I think he
will like you when he gets acquainted.”
She turned to the window with a swelling
heart. It seemed so cold and strange. It
was better on shipboard, she thought. She had
come to know the sailors quite well and Missy had
grown to be a great favorite with them. There
was always something cheerful going on. They sang
songs in their loud clear voices, or whistled merry
tunes. They danced as well. She was quite
used to the dancing-girls at Calcutta, and when they
were at Hong Kong or other ports. But the Indian
girls pleased her best.
The sailors seemed always full of
fun, even in the worst of times. During some
fearful storms she was safely housed in the cabin,
and it amused her to see the things pitch and roll
as far as their chains would allow them. Sometimes,
too, they had to hold the food in their hands, but
she never knew the danger of the worst storms.
Rachel would not admit that she was afraid, and the
captain said, “Yes, we’re having a stiff
blow, but the Flying Star has weathered many
a gale before.” And here it was so very
quiet. It looked dreary outside, with the leafless
trees. She liked the toss and tumult of the waves
with their snowy, jewelled crests, and the clouds
scudding along the sky, which she imagined was another
sea full of ships. Often they went in port and
there was nothing left but the blue sky above a
great hollow vault. And when the sun shone the
real sea and ocean was in flames of such splendid
colors. There was no end of curious people at
ports where they stopped for supplies, there was always
something strange, even when they were days alone
on the water. For the sunset and sunrise were
never twice alike. Then the moon from its tiny
crescent to the great round globe that illumined the
world with her fairy richness and scattered jewels
on every crested wave. She had watched it turn
the other way and grow smaller and smaller until you
saw it vaguely in the morning.
She was so interested in the stories
they told about it, the signs and wonders they ascribed
to it.
“And was it ever a real world
like that we have left behind?” she asked of
the captain. “Were there people in it?
And land, and rivers, and growing things, and flowers?”
and her wondering eyes grew larger.
“No one can tell now. Some
astronomers believe it a burned-out world and the
things we take for a man,” laughing, “and
the cow ready to jump off, are remnants of roads,
and forests, and mountains.”
“You can see the man
in the moon,” she returned decisively. “Sometimes
he laughs. And the cow has great horns. I
should be afraid of them if I met such a cow.
Ours are so small and tame.”
“You will see large ones in
Salem. But I think, for the most part, they are
gentle.”
She never wearied talking over the
strange things. And so she came to have her head
filled with wonderful lore that indeed cropped out
now and then all her life long until she felt as if
she had really been in fairyland.
It seemed stranger here than on shipboard.
The others were going through the ceremony of getting
acquainted. Rachel Winn’s voice had a soft
sound, with an almost foreign accent. Eunice’s,
though low-pitched, had a clear resonance. Now
and then Chilian Leverett made a comment, or asked
a question, but she was not heeding them. Her
heart and mind had wandered back to her father and
that wonderful land where nothing ever seemed bleak,
though in long hot droughts it was arid. But there
were always temples, and palaces, and picturesque
huts, and women and children in gay attire, old men
kneeling somewhere, praying but keeping a sharp lookout
for alms.
Chilian Leverett had been watching
the small face and wondering at the changes passing
over it. Now he saw some tears slowly coursing
down the pale cheeks, and his heart was moved with
infinite pity.
Suddenly a robin alighted on the limb
of a tree and began picking at the buds. Then
he held his head up straight, swelled out his brownish
red breast, and poured forth such a volume of melody
that the effort fairly made him dance with joy.
Spring had surely come! It was the time of love
and joy, and all things made over new.
She turned a trifle. Her face
was transfigured with delight. Her eyes shone,
though the tears were still wet on her cheek.