THE EBB-TIDE : THE QUARTETTE - VI.
A TAIL-PIECE
On a very bright hot lusty strongly-blowing
noon a fortnight after the events recorded and a
month since the curtain rose upon this episode a
man might have been spied praying on the sand by the
lagoon beach. A point of palm-trees isolated
him from the settlement; and from the place where
he knelt the only work of man’s hand that interrupted
the expanse was the schooner Farallone her
berth quite changed and rocking at anchor some two
miles to windward in the midst of the lagoon.
The noise of the Trade ran very boisterous in all parts
of the island; the nearer palm-trees crashed and whistled
in the gusts those farther off contributed a humming
bass like the roar of cities; and yet to any man
less absorbed there must have risen at times over
this turmoil of the winds the sharper note of the
human voice from the settlement. There all was
activity. Attwater stripped to his trousers
and lending a strong hand of help was directing and
encouraging five Kanakas; from his lively voice and
their more lively efforts it was to be gathered that
some sudden and joyful emergency had set them in this
bustle; and the Union Jack floated once more on its
staff. But the suppliant on the beach unconscious
of their voices prayed on with instancy and fervour
and the sound of his voice rose and fell again and
his countenance brightened and was deformed with changing
moods of piety and terror.
Before his closed eyes the skiff had
been for some time tacking towards the distant and
deserted Farallone; and presently the figure
of Herrick might have been observed to board her,
to pass for a while into the house, thence forward
to the forecastle, and at last to plunge into the
main hatch. In all these quarters his visit was
followed by a coil of smoke; and he had scarce entered
his boat again and shoved off, before flames broke
forth upon the schooner. They burned gaily; kerosene
had not been spared, and the bellows of the Trade incited
the conflagration. About half-way on the return
voyage, when Herrick looked back, he beheld the Farallone
wrapped to the topmasts in leaping arms of fire, and
the voluminous smoke pursuing him along the face of
the lagoon. In one hour’s time, he computed,
the waters would have closed over the stolen ship.
It so chanced that, as his boat flew
before the wind with much vivacity, and his eyes were
continually busy in the wake, measuring the progress
of the flames, he found himself embayed to the northward
of the point of palms, and here became aware at the
same time of the figure of Davis immersed in his devotion.
An exclamation, part of annoyance, part of amusement,
broke from him: and he touched the helm and ran
the prow upon the beach not twenty feet from the unconscious
devotee. Taking the painter in his hand, he landed,
and drew near, and stood over him. And still
the voluble and incoherent stream of prayer continued
unabated. It was not possible for him to overhear
the suppliant’s petitions, which he listened
to some while in a very mingled mood of humour and
pity: and it was only when his own name began
to occur and to be conjoined with epithets, that he
at last laid his hand on the captain’s shoulder.
“Sorry to interrupt the exercise,”
said he; “but I want you to look at the Farallone.”
The captain scrambled to his feet,
and stood gasping and staring. “Mr. Herrick,
don’t startle a man like that!” he said.
“I don’t seem someways rightly myself
since....” He broke off. “What
did you say anyway? O, the Farallone,”
and he looked languidly out.
“Yes,” said Herrick.
“There she burns! and you may guess from that
what the news is.”
“The Trinity Hall, I guess,” said
the captain.
“The same,” said Herrick;
“sighted half an hour ago, and coming up hand
over fist.”
“Well, it don’t amount
to a hill of beans,” said the captain, with a
sigh.
“O, come, that’s rank ingratitude!”
cries Herrick.
“Well,” replied the captain
meditatively, “you mayn’t just see the
way that I view it in, but I’d ’most rather
stay here upon this island. I found peace here,
peace in believing. Yes, I guess this island is
about good enough for John Davis.”
“I never heard such nonsense!”
cried Herrick. “What! with all turning
out in your favour the way it does, the Farallone
wiped out, the crew disposed of, a sure thing for
your wife and family, and you, yourself, Attwater’s
spoiled darling and pet penitent!”
“Now, Mr. Herrick, don’t
say that,” said the captain gently; “when
you know he don’t make no difference between
us. But, O! why not be one of us? why not come
to Jesus right away, and let’s meet in yon beautiful
land? That’s just the one thing wanted;
just say, ’Lord, I believe, help Thou mine unbelief!’
and He’ll fold you in His arms. You see,
I know! I been a sinner myself!”