Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 21
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In my anxiety to try and catch sight of it from another spot, I hastened down to the sh.o.r.e; but already a rosy tint was spread over the wide sea, and nothing was discernible except the heaving waves and the streaked sky above them.
I sat upon a rock straining my eyes, but to no purpose; and at last the cold raw air pierced through me, and I remembered that I had left my jacket in the hut. But for this, indeed, I would not have returned to it,--for, without absolute fear of the negro, his repulsive features and scowling look made his companions.h.i.+p far from pleasurable. His suspicion of me, too, might have led him to some act of violence; and therefore I determined, if I were even to seek shelter in the Refuge-house at the other end of the island, I would not go back to this one.
It was some time before I could summon courage to venture back again; and even when I had reached the door, it was not without a struggle with myself that I dared to enter. The daylight was now streaming in, across the long and dreary chamber, and, encouraged by this, I stepped across the threshold. My first glance was towards the stove, where I had left him lying asleep. The fire had burned out, and the negro was gone! With cautious steps, and many a prying glance around, I ventured forward, my heart thumping with a fear I cannot explain,--since his very presence had not caused such terror; but nowhere was he to be found,--not a trace of him remained. Indeed, were it not for the sc.r.a.p of printed paper, which I had carefully preserved, I should have believed the whole events of the night to be the mere fancies of a dream.
Twice was I obliged to take it from my pocket and read it over, to a.s.sure myself that I was not pursuing some hallucination of sleep; and if I felt convinced that the events were real, and had actually happened, I will frankly own that the reality inspired me with a sense of fear which no memory of a mere vision could have inspired.
Daylight is a bold companion, however, and where night would make the heart beat fast and the cheek pale, the sun will give a strong pulse and a ruddy face. This I could not help feeling, as I acknowledged to myself that had it been yet dark, I had rather have perished with cold than sought for my jacket within the hut.
At last, grown bolder, I had even courage to seek for the negro on every side. I examined the berths along the walls; I searched the recesses beside the biscuit-casks; I removed planks and turned over sails; but without success. The difficulty with which he moved made this seem doubly strange, and satisfied me that his place of concealment could not be far off,--nay, possibly, at that very moment he might be actually watching me, and waiting for a favorable instant to pounce upon me.
This dread increased as my search continued to be fruitless; so that I abandoned the pursuit, a.s.sured that I had done everything that could have been asked either of my courage or humanity; nor was I sorry to a.s.sure myself that I had done enough.
My interest in the subject was soon superseded by one nearer to my heart; for as I left the hut I beheld, about four miles off, a large three-masted vessel bearing up the Gulf, with all her canvas spread.
Forgetting the distance, and everything save my longing to be free, I ascended a little eminence, and shouted with all my might, waving my handkerchief back and forward above my head. I cannot describe the transport of delight I felt, at perceiving that a flag was hoisted to the main peak, and soon after lowered,--a recognition of the signal which floated above me. I even cried aloud with joy; and then, in the eagerness of my ecstasy, I set off along the sh.o.r.e, seeking out the best place for a boat to run in.
Never did a s.h.i.+p appear so glorious an object to my eyes; her spars seemed more taper, her sails more snowy, her bearing prouder, than ever a vessel owned before; and when at length I could distinguish the figures of men in the rigging, my heart actually leaped to my mouth with delight.
At last she backed her topsail, and now I saw shooting out from beneath her tall sides a light pinnace, that skimmed the water like a sea-bird.
As if they saw me, they headed exactly towards where I stood, and ran the craft into a little bay just at my feet. A crew of four sailors and c.o.xswain now jumped ash.o.r.e, and advanced towards me.
"Are there many of you?" said the c.o.xswain, gruffly, and as though nothing were a commoner occurrence in life than to rescue a poor forlorn fellow-creature from an uninhabited rock.
"I am alone, sir," said I, almost bursting into tears, for mingled joy and disappointment; for I was, I own it, disappointed at the want of sympathy for my lone condition.
"What s.h.i.+p did you belong to, boy?" asked he, as shortly as before.
"A yacht, sir,--the 'Firefly.'"
"Ah, that 's it; so they shoved you ash.o.r.e here. That's what comes of sailing with gentlemen, as they calls 'em."
"No, sir; we landed--a few of us--during a calm--"
"Ay, ay," he broke in, "I know all that,--the old story; you landed to shoot rabbits, and somehow you got separated from the others; the wind sprung up meantime; the yacht fired a gun to come off--eh, is n't that it! Come, my lad, no gammon with me. You 're some infernal young scamp that was 'had up' for punishment, and they either put you ash.o.r.e here for the rats, or you jumped overboard yourself, and floated hither on a spare hencoop. But never mind,--we 'll give you a run to Quebec; jump in."
I followed the order with alacrity, and soon found myself on board the "Hampden" transport, which was conveying the --th Regiment of Foot to Canada.
"No one but this here boy, sir," said the c.o.xswain; shoving me before him towards the skipper, who, amidst a crowd of officers in undress, sat smoking on the after-deck.
A very significant grunt seemed to imply that the vessel's way was lost for very slight cause.
"He says as how he belonged to a yacht, sir," resumed the c.o.xswain.
"Whose yacht, boy?" asked one of the officers.
"Sir Dudley Broughton's, sir; the 'Firefly,'" said I.
"Broughton! Broughton!" said an old, shrewd-looking man, in a foraging-cap; "don't you know all about him? But, to be sure, he was before _your_ day;" and then, changing his discourse to French,--with which language, thanks to my kind old friend Father Rush, I was sufficiently acquainted to understand what was said,--he added, "Sir Dudley was in the Life Guards once; his wife eloped with a Russian or a Polish Count,--I forget which,--and he became deranged in consequence.
Were you long with Sir Dudley, boy?" asked he, addressing me in English.
"Not quite two months, sir."
"Not a bad spell with such a master," resumed he, in French, "if the stories they tell of him be true. How did you happen to be left on Anticosti?"
"No use in asking, Captain!" broke in the skipper. "You never get a word of truth from chaps like that; go for'ard, boy."
And with this brief direction I was dismissed. All my fancied heroism--all my antic.i.p.ated glory--vanis.h.i.+ng at once; the only thought my privations excited being that I was a young scamp, who, if he told truth, would confess that all his sufferings and misfortunes had been but too well merited.
This was another lesson to me in life, and one which perhaps I could not have acquired more thoroughly than by a few days on Anticosti.
CHAPTER XII. A GLIMPSE OF ANOTHER OPENING IN LIFE
Although only a few hundred miles from Quebec, our voyage still continued for several days; the "Hampden" like all transport-s.h.i.+ps, was only "great in a calm," and the Gulf-stream being powerful enough to r.e.t.a.r.d far better sailers.
To those who, like myself, were not pressed for time, or had no very pleasing vista opening to them on sh.o.r.e, the voyage was far from disagreeable. As the channel narrowed, the tall mountains of Vermont came into view, and gradually the villages on the sh.o.r.e could be detected,--small, dark cl.u.s.ters, in the midst of what appeared interminable pine forests. Here and there less pleasant sights presented themselves, in the shape of dismasted hulks, being the remains of vessels which had got fastened in the ice of the early "fall," and were deserted by the crews.
On the whole, it was novelty, and novelty alone, lent any charm to the picture; for the sh.o.r.es of the Gulf, until you come within two days'
journey of Quebec, are sadly discouraging and dreary. The Log-house is itself a mournful object; and when seen standing alone in some small clearing, with blackened stumps studding the s.p.a.ce, through which two or three figures are seen to move, is inexpressibly sad-looking and solitary.
Now and then we would pa.s.s some little town, with a humble imitation of a harbor for s.h.i.+pping, and a quay; and in the midst a standard, with a flag, would denote that some Government official resided there,--the reward, doubtless, of some gallant deed, some bold achievement afloat; for I heard that they were chiefly lieutenants in the navy, who, having more intimacy with French grape and canister than with "First Lords,"
were fain to spend the remnant of their days in these gloomiest of exiles.
The absence of all signs of life and movement in the picture cannot fail to depress the spectator. No team of oxen draws the loaded wagon along; not a plough is seen. There are no gatherings of people in the open places of the towns; no cattle can be descried on the hills. The settlements appear like the chance resting-places of men travelling through the dark forests, and not their homes for life. At times a single figure would be seen on some high cliff above the sea, standing motionless, and, to all seeming, watching the s.h.i.+p. I cannot say how deeply such a sight always affected me; and I could not help fancying him some lone emigrant, following with beating heart the track he was never again to travel.
Apparently, these things made a deeper impression on me than upon most others on board. As for the soldiers, they were occupied with getting their arms and equipments in order, to make a respectable appearance on landing. It was one eternal scene of soap and pipeclay all day long; and creatures barely able to crawl, from sea-sickness and debility, were obliged to scour and polish away as if the glory of England depended upon the show the gallant--th would make, the day we should set foot on sh.o.r.e. The skipper, too, was bent on making an equally imposing show to the landsmen; his weather topmasts were stowed away, and in their place were hoisted some light and taper spars, not exactly in accordance with the lubberly hull beneath. Pitch and white paint were in great requisition too; and every day saw some half-dozen of the crew suspended over the side, either sc.r.a.ping or painting for the very life. Many a s.h.i.+rt dangled from the boom, and more than one low-crowned hat received a fresh coat of glistening varnish; all were intent on the approaching landing, even to the group of lounging officers on the p.o.o.p, who had begun to reduce their beards and whiskers to a more "regulation"
standard, and who usually pa.s.sed the morning inspecting epaulettes and sword-knots, shakos, gorgets, and such like, with the importance of men who felt what havoc among the fair Canadians they were soon about to inflict.
My services were in request among this section of the pa.s.sengers, since I had become an expert hand at cleaning arms and equipments with Sir Dudley; besides that, not wearing his Majesty's cloth, the officers were at liberty to talk to me with a freedom they could not have used with their men. They were all more or less curious to hear about Sir Dudley, of whom, without transgressing Halkett's caution, I was able to relate some amusing particulars. As my hearers invariably made their comments on my narratives in French, I was often amused to hear them record their opinions of myself, expressed with perfect candor in my own presence.
The senior officer was a Captain Pike, an old, keen-eyed, pock-marked man, with a nose as thin as a sheet of parchment. He seemed to read me like a book; at least, so far as I knew, his opinions perfectly divined my true character.
"Our friend Con," he would say, "is an uncommonly shrewd varlet, but he is only telling us some of the truth; he sees that he is entertaining enough, and won't produce 'Lafitte' so long as we enjoy his 'Ordinaire.'"
"Now, what will become of such a fellow as that?" asked another. "Heaven knows! such rascals turn out consummate scoundrels, or rise to positions of eminence. Never was there a more complete lottery than the life of a young rogue like that."
"I can't fancy," drawled out a young subaltern, "how an ignorant cur, without education, manners, and means, can ever rise to anything."
"Who can say whether he has not all these?" said the captain, quietly.
"Trust me, Carrington, you'd cut a much poorer figure in _his_ place than would he in _yours_."
The ensign gave a haughty laugh, and the captain resumed: "I said it were not impossible that he had each of the three requisites you spoke of, and I repeat it. He may, without possessing learning, have picked up that kind of rudimentary knowledge that keenness and zeal improve on every day; and as for tact and address, such fellows possess both as a birthright. I have a plan in my head for the youngster; but you must all pledge yourselves to secrecy, or I'll not venture upon it."
Here a very general chorus of promises and "on honors" broke forth; after the subsidence of which, Captain Pike continued, still, however, in French; and although being far from a proficient in that tongue, I was able to follow the tenor of his discourse, and divine its meaning, particularly as from time to time some of the listeners would propound a question or two in English, by the aid of which I invariably contrived to keep up with the "argument."
"You know, lads," said the captain, "that our old friend Mrs. Davis, who keeps the boarding-house in the Upper Town, has been always worrying us to bring her out what she calls a first-rate man-servant from England; by which she means a creature capable of subsisting on quarter rations, and who, too far from home to turn restive, must put up with any wages.
The very fact that he came out special, she well knows, will be a puff for the 'Establishment' among the Canadian Members of Parliament and the small fry of officials who dine at the house; and as to qualifications, who will dare question the 'London footman '?"
"Pooh, pooh!" broke in Carrington; "that fellow don't look like a London footman."
Confessions Of Con Cregan Part 21
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