IN WHICH JASPER BEGG MAKES UP HIS MIND WHAT TO DO
Now, she was sitting in the garden,
in a kind of arbour built of leaves, and near by her
was her relative, the rats’-tailed old lady we
used to call Aunt Rachel. The pair didn’t
see me as I passed in, but a Chinese servant gave
“Good-day” to the yellow man we’d
picked up coming down; and, at that, Miss Ruth for
so I call her, not being able to get Mme. Czerny
into my head Miss Ruth, I say, stood up,
and, the colour tumbling into her cheeks like the
tide into an empty pool, she stood for all the world
as though she were struck dumb and unable to say a
word to any man. I, meanwhile, fingered my hat
and looked foolish; for it was an odd kind of job
to have come twelve thousand miles upon, and what
to say to her with the hulking seaman at my elbow,
the Lord forgive me if I knew.
“Miss Ruth,” says I at
last, “I’m here according to orders, and
the ship’s here, and we’re waiting for
you to go aboard ”
Well, she seemed to hear me like one
who did not catch the meaning of it. I saw her
put her hand to her throat as though something were
choking her, and the old lady, the one we called Aunt
Rachel, cried, “God bless me,” two or
three times together. But the yellow man was the
next to speak, and he crossed right over to our Miss
Ruth’s side, and talked in her ear in a voice
you could have heard up at the hills.
“You’ll not be going aboard
to-day, lady. Why, what would the master have
to say, he coming home from foreign parts and you not
ashore to meet him? You didn’t say nothing
about any ship, not as I can remember, and mighty
pleased the guv’nor will be when he knows about
it. Shall I tell this party he’d better
be getting aboard again, eh, ma’am? Don’t
you think as he’d better be getting aboard again?”
He shouted this out for all the world
like a man hailing from one ship to another.I don’t know what put it into my head, but I
knew from that moment that my mistress was afraid,
aye, deadly afraid, as it is given few to fear in
this life. Not that she spoke of it, or showed
it by any sign a stranger might have understood; but
there was a look in her eyes which was clear to me;
“and by my last word,” said I to myself,
“I’ll know the truth this day, though
there be one or a hundred yellow boys!” None
the less, I held my tongue as a wise man should, and
what I said was spoken to the party with the beard.
“You’ve a nice soft voice
for a nightingale, that you have,” says I; “if
you’d let yourself out for a fog-horn to the
Scilly Isles, you’d go near to make your fortune!Is the young lady deaf that you want to bawl like
a harbour-master? Easy, my man,” says I,
“you’ll hurt your beautiful throat.”
Well, he turned round savage enough,
but my mistress, who had stood all the while like
a statue, spoke now for the first time, and holding
out both her hands to me, she cried:
“Oh, Captain Begg, Captain Begg,
is it you at last, to walk right here like this?I can’t believe it,” she said; “I
really can’t believe it!”
“Why, that’s so,”
said I, catching her American accent, which was the
prettiest thing you ever heard; “I’m on
the way to ’Frisco, and I put in here according
to my promise. My ship’s out yonder, Miss
Ruth, and there’s some aboard that knows you Peter
Bligh and Mister Jacob; and this one, this is little
Dolly Venn,” said I, presenting him, “though
he’ll grow bigger by-and-bye.”
With this I pushed the boy forward,
and he, all silly and blushing as sailors will be
when they see a pretty woman above their station he
took her hand and heaved it like a pump-handle; while
old Aunt Rachel, the funny old woman in the glasses,
she began to talk a lot of nonsense about seamen,
as she always did, and for a minute or two we might
have been a party of friends met at a street corner.
“I’m glad to find you
well, Captain Begg,” said she. “Such
a dangerous life, too, the mariner’s. I
always pity you poor fellows when you climb the rattlesnakes
on winter’s nights.”
“Ratlins, you mean, ma’am,”
said I, “though for that matter, a syllable
or two don’t count either way. And I hope
you’re not poorly, ma’am, on this queer
shore.”
“I like the island,” says
she, solemn and stiff-like; “my dear nephew
is an eccentric, but we must take our bread as we find
it on this earth, Mister Begg, and thankful for it
too. Poor Ruth, now, she is dreadfully distressed
and unhappy; but I tell her it will all come right
in the end. Let her be patient a little while
and she will have her own way. She wants for
nothing here she has every comfort.If her husband chooses such a home for her, she must
submit. It is our duty to submit to our husbands,
captain, as the catechism teaches us.”
“Aye, when you’ve got
’em,” thought I, but I nodded my head to
the old lady, and turned to my mistress, who was now
speaking to me.
“You’ll lunch here; why,
yes, captain you mustn’t find us
inhospitable, even if you leave us at once. Mr.
Denton, will you please to tell them that Captain
Begg lunches with me as soon as possible?”
She turned to the yellow man to give
him the order; but there was no mistaking the look
which passed between them, saying on her side:“Allow me to do this,” on his, “You
will suffer for it afterwards.” But he
went up to the veranda of the house right enough, and
while he was bawling to the cook, I spoke the first
plain word to Mme. Czerny.
“Mistress,” I said, “the
ship’s there shall we go or stay?”
I had meant it to be the plain truth
between us; on her part the confession whether she
needed me or did not; on mine the will to serve her
whatever might happen to me. To my dying day,
I shall never forget her answer.
“Go,” she said, so low
that it was little more than a whisper, “but,
oh, for God’s sake, Jasper Begg, come back to
me again.”
I nodded my head and turned the talk.The man Denton, the one with the yellow beard (rated
as Kess Denton on the island), was back at my side
almost before she had finished. The old lady began
to talk about “curling-spikes” and “blue
Saint Peters,” and how much the anchor weighed,
and all that sort of blarney which she thought ship-shape
and suited to a poor sailor-man’s understanding.I told her a story of a shark that swallowed a missionary
and his hymn-book, and always swam round our ship
at service times afterwards and that kept
her thinking a bit. As for little Dolly Venn,
he couldn’t keep his eyes off Miss Ruth and
I didn’t wonder, for mine went that way pretty
often. Aye, she had changed, too, in those twelve
months that had passed since last I saw her, the prettiest
bride that ever held out a finger for a ring in the
big church at Nice. Her cheeks were all fallen
away and flushed with a colour which was cruelly unhealthy
to see. The big blue eyes, which I used to see
full of laughter and a young girl’s life, were
ringed round with black, and pitiful when they looked
at you. The hair parted above the forehead, as
it always was, and brought down in curls above her
little ears, didn’t seem to me so full of golden
threads as it used to be. But it was good to
hear her plucky talk, there at the dinner-table, when
she chattered away like some sweet-singing bird, and
Dolly couldn’t turn away his eyes, and the yellow
boy stood, sour and savage, behind her chair, and
threw out hints for me to sheer off which might have
moved the Bass Rock. Not that he need have troubled
himself, for I had made up my mind already what to
do; and no sooner was the food stowed away than I
up and spoke about the need of getting on again, and
such like. And with that I said “Good-bye”
to Mistress Ruth and “Good-bye” to the
old woman, and had a shot left in my locker for the
yellow boy, which I don’t doubt pleased him mightily.
“Good luck to you,” says
I; “if you’d a wisp of your hair, I’d
put it in my locket and think of you sometimes.When you want anything from London you just shout
across the sea and we’ll be hearing you.Deadman’s Horn is nothing to you,” said
I; “you’d scare a ship out of the sea,
if you wasn’t gentle to her.”
Mind you, I said all this as much
to put him off as anything else, for I’d been
careful enough to blab no word about the Southern Cross
being Miss Ruth’s very own ship, nor about her
orders that we should call at Ken’s Island;
and I knew that when a man’s angry at what you
say to him he doesn’t think much of two and
two making four, but as often as not makes them eight
or ten. May-be, said I, he’ll make it out
that I’m on a tramp bound for ’Frisco
and have touched here on the way and certainly
he won’t look for my coming back again once he
sees our smoke on the sky-line. Nor was I wrong.My mistress was to tell me that much before twelve
hours had passed.
And so it was that I said “Good-bye”
to her, she standing at the garden-gate with a brave
smile upon her pretty face, and the yellow man behind
her like a savage dog that is afraid to bite, but has
all the mind to. At the valley’s head I
turned about, and she was still there, looking up
wistfully to the hills we trod. Thrice I waved
my hand to her, and thrice she answered, and then
together, the lad and I, we entered the dark wood
and saw her no more.
“Your best leg forward, lad,”
said I to him, “and mum’s the word.There’s work to do on the ship, and work ashore
for a woman’s sake. Are you game for that,
Dolly are you game, my boy?”
Well, he didn’t answer me.Some one up in the black gorge above fired a rifle
just as I spoke; and the bullet came singing down like
a bird on the wing. Not a soul could I see, not
a sound could I hear when the rolling echoes had passed
away. It was just the silence of the thicket
and of the great precipices which headed it a
silence which might freeze a man’s heart because
the danger which threatened him was hidden.
“Crouch low to the rocks, lad,
and go easy,” cried I, when my wits came back
again; “that’s a tongue it doesn’t
do to quarrel with. The dirty skunks to
fire on unarmed men! But we’ll return it,
Dolly; as I live I’ll fire a dozen for every
one they send us.”
“Return it, sir,” says
he; “but aren’t you going aboard?”
“Aye,” says I, “and
coming back again like drift on an open sea. Now
let me see you skip across that bridge, and no mistake
about it.”
He darted across the chasm’s
bridge like a chamois. I followed him quick and
clumsy. If my heart was in my mouth well,
let that pass. Not for my own sake did I fear
mortal man that day, but for the sake of a woman whose
very life I believed to be in danger.