Will Weatherhelm Part 8

CHAPTER SEVEN.

ENCOUNTER MY NEW UNCLE--AUNT BRETTA'S HOME--HAPPY MEETING--SETTLE AT HOME--A DESCRIPTION OF MY UNCLE--OLD JERRY VINCENT--HIS STORIES--THE SMOKE-WORMS, AND HIS CRUISE ROUND THE ISLE OF WIGHT.

On reaching Portsmouth, I b.u.t.toned my money tight up in my pockets, for, thought I, "I'll have no land-sharks taking it from me in the way many poor fellows have lost all the profits of their toils." I had no difficulty in finding my way through the gate under the ramparts to Southsea Common, and then I turned to the left till I reached a number of small, neat little houses. The fine big mansions and great hotels which stand there now were not built in those days. I walked up and down for some time trying to discover the house my aunt lived in from what Miss Rundle had told me, but I could not make up my mind to knock at any door by chance to inquire. At last I saw a stout, fine sailor-like looking man come stumbling along the road on a wooden leg.

I looked at his face. He had a round, good-natured countenance, somewhat weather-beaten, with kind-looking eyes, and a firm mouth, full of fine white teeth.

"You're the man who will give me a civil answer at all events, and maybe help me to find my aunt, so I'll just speak to you," I thought to myself. "Please, sir," said I, stepping up to him, "can you tell me if a young woman called Bretta Wetherholm lives any way handy here?" He looked at me very hard as I spoke, with some surprise in his countenance. Then I recollected myself; "that was her name, I mean, sir," said I; "it's now Mrs Kelson, I am told. Her husband is Tom Kelson. Yes, that's his name."

"I think I can show you the house, young man," said the stranger, casting his eye all over me. "You are a stranger here."

"Yes, sir," said I, "this is the first time I have been at Portsmouth.

I've been knocking about at sea all my life. There are very few days in which I have set foot in England since I was a little boy."

"Just paid off from a s.h.i.+p, I suppose."

"Yes, sir," said I, "a few days ago."

"Ah, I see, come round from Plymouth," he remarked, stumping on at a pace which kept me at a quick walk.

I always addressed him as sir, for I thought very likely he was a post-captain, or perhaps an admiral. I did not like, therefore, to say that I had just come from Guernsey, as he would at once have guessed that I had been serving on board a privateer, and I knew that many officers did not at all like the calling. I therefore said, "I beg pardon, sir, but I fear that I am taking you out of your way."

"Not in the least, young man," he answered in a good-natured tone.

"Your way is my way."

"Well, you are indeed a very civil, kind gentleman," I thought. Then all of a sudden I remembered the land-sharks I had been warned against, but when I looked in his face I felt certain that he was not one of them.

"And so you have heard speak of Tom Kelson," said he, looking at me.

"Not much, sir," I answered. "There's a lady down at Plymouth whom I know, Miss Rundle, who just spoke about him, and told me about my aunt's marriage, and how she didn't quite think--"

"Oh, never mind what Miss Molly Rundle thought," said he, laughing, as he pushed open the door of a house and walked in. "You'll find Mrs Kelson in there," and he pointed to a parlour on one side of the pa.s.sage. "Here, Bretta, come down; here's a young man come to see you.

Who he is I don't know. He's a friend of Molly Rundle's, that is all I can make out," I heard my new friend hail at the foot of the stairs.

I found myself in a very pretty, neat little sitting-room, with the picture of a s.h.i.+p over the mantelpiece, and lumps of coral and large sh.e.l.ls, and sh.e.l.l flowers, on it, and bows and arrows, and spears and models of eastern craft, and canoes from the Pacific, and some stuffed birds and snakes, and, indeed, all sorts of curious things arranged in brackets on the walls, or nailed up against them, or filling the shelves of cabinets. Indeed, the room was a perfect museum, only much better arranged than museums generally are. I had some little time to look about me. "Well, Aunt Bretta is comfortably housed at all events," I thought to myself.

At last the door opened, and a portly fair dame, with fair hair and a pleasant smile on her countenance, entered the room. "Who are you inquiring for, young man?" said she, dropping a sort of curtsey.

I looked at her very hard without answering. "Yes, it must be Aunt Bretta," I thought. "But if it is her, she is a good deal changed. And yet I don't know. Those kind eyes and that smile are just the same.

Oh, yes, it is her."

"Aunt Bretta," I exclaimed, running towards her; "don't you know me?

I'm Willand Wetherholm, your nephew!"

"You my nephew! I heard that without doubt he was dead. Yet let me look at you, boy!" she exclaimed, taking both my hands and fixing her eyes on my countenance. "Yes, you are Willand--you are my own dear boy--welcome, welcome back to life, and to one who loved you as her own son!" And she flung her arms round my neck and burst into tears. "Oh, Willand, had but dear mother been alive, how it would have done her heart good to see you! She never ceased talking of you, and always felt sure that you would come back when you could."

I will not describe the scene any farther. I pretty nearly cried too-- indeed I am not certain that I did not, but they were tears of happiness, and not yet entirely of happiness. There was sorrow for one I had lost--regret for my own obstinacy and thoughtlessness, and many other emotions mingled with the satisfaction of finding myself under the roof of one in whom I had the most perfect confidence, who I knew loved me sincerely. I think I have said it before, but if not, I now urge those who are blessed with real friends, to prize the lore their hearts bestow as a jewel above price, which wealth cannot purchase, and which, let them wander the world round, they may never find again.

After my aunt and I had sat a little time, in came the fine old gentleman I had met. I now guessed who he must be. He very quickly understood who I was. "You are not the first seaman I have known who has been lost for years, and has at last turned up again when he was least expected," said he; "but welcome, Willand, I'm very glad to see you, and to own you for my nephew." He very soon gave evidence of the sincerity of his words, for a kinder, better-hearted man I never met, and I felt thankful that Aunt Bretta had married a man so well worthy of her.

My uncle accompanied me back to the inn where I had left my chest and bag, and we got a porter to carry them to his house; and now, for the first time since I went to sea, I found myself settled with my relations quietly on sh.o.r.e. I had been very happy with the La Mottes, but still they were strangers. My kind aunt never seemed tired of trying to find out what would please me. She had done something to spoil me as a boy-- it appeared as if there was a great probability of her spoiling me as a man. We had much to talk about. I told her of my falling in with the old lady at Plymouth, and of my visit to my grandmother's tomb. I found that Miss Rundle had never written to her, or if she had written, the letter had not reached her.

"I suspect that she was afraid I might answer her letter, and she did not like the idea of having to pay the return postage. It shows that she does not consider my friends.h.i.+p worth ninepence."

Still I was surprised that Miss Rundle had not written, as she had so positively promised to do. I could not exactly make it out. I found that my aunt knew nothing of old Mrs Sandon and her niece. She was very much interested with my description of the young lady. "So, Willand," said she, "I hope you will go back to Plymouth and find her out again. There are very many good girls in the world, but, like sweet violets, they often bloom unseen, and it is not so easy to find them.

From what you tell me of her, and I can bring her clearly before my mind's eye, she is just the sort of person to make a man a good wife, and I hope that you may be able to win her." Now, when my aunt spoke thus, I laughed, and said that I had not thought of settling, and that it was not likely I should win a young lady like her, who was a great deal too good to be the wife of a foremast man like me, and anything else I never expected to be.

"You need not say that, Willand," replied Aunt Bretta. "I have something to say to you on that subject. You must know, Willand, that your father left some money to your grandmother for her life, and afterwards it was to go to you; but when you were supposed to be dead I took possession of it. Now, my dear boy, that you have come back, your uncle and I have been preparing to give it up to you. It is yours by every law of right, so do not say a word about it. We can manage very well without it."

"Indeed, I will not deprive you of a farthing of it, dear aunt!" I exclaimed. "I would rather go to sea for a dozen years longer and never come back again, than take the bread out of your mouths. I won't take it, so don't be pressing it on me. I have got plenty without it.

There, take care of that." And I gave her the cash I had been carrying in my pocket. "You can make me your heir, if you like, and I hope it will be a very long time before I come into my fortune."

My uncle soon after came in, and we had a long talk over the matter. I succeeded at last in making them keep the money. The fact was, I knew myself better than they knew me, and I felt pretty certain that some day or other I might spend it all, and n.o.body would be the better for it.

This affair settled, we lived together still more pleasantly than ever, for they had it off their minds, and I felt that I had done what was right. I found that my uncle had once been what Miss Rundle called a common sailor--that is to say, he had been mate of a merchantman, and had been pressed on board a man-of-war, where he had obtained a warrant as boatswain. While acting as such, he had lost his leg. After he had recovered he got command of a large merchantman, for he was a good navigator as well as a first-rate seaman. He was not very refined, according to some people's notions, I dare say, nor were some of his acquaintance. He valued them, as he did all things, for their sterling qualities, and cared very little for their outside. A good many of his old friends and s.h.i.+pmates used to look in on him, and I was much struck by the kind and hospitable way in which my aunt always received them.

"They are my husband's friends, and I inquire no further," she used to say. "I know that he will never ask anybody I shall not be glad to receive."

Scarcely an evening pa.s.sed without our having one or more guests, and this made it very pleasant. Just as we were sitting down to tea one evening, a ring was heard, and on my uncle's opening the door (I found that he always did that sort of work), I heard him exclaim, "Come in, Jerry! come in, old boy! There is only my nephew here, and he won't be sorry to hear you talk, I'm sure." There was a shuffling and cleaning of shoes, and then my uncle ushered in as odd a looking old man as I ever saw. He was of diminutive figure, very wizened and wiry, with long grizzly hair and small bright eyes, with a wonderfully roguish expression in them.

"This is Jerry Vincent, an old s.h.i.+pmate of mine, nephew," observed my uncle, as he placed a chair for the old man. "He can tell you more curious things than most people when he has a mind. Can you not, Jerry?"

Our guest nodded, and his eyes twinkled curiously.

"Sarvant, missus; sarvant, all," said he, pulling a lock of his hair and putting his tarpaulin hat under the seat which had been offered him.

"Why, old s.h.i.+p, I've seen some rum things in the course of my life, and I don't forget them, like some does," he remarked, smoothing down his hair with his long, rough, bony hand.

I told him that I should much like to hear some of his adventures, but he did not become loquacious till my aunt had served him out three or four cups of tea, into which she poured, as if it was a usual thing, a few drops of cordial, a proceeding which always made the old man's eyes twinkle cheerily. During the course of conversation, I found that Jerry Vincent was not only peculiar in his appearance but in his habits also.

He never by any chance, from choice, slept in a bed. When at sea, a caulk on a locker was the only rest he took, and most of his nights, in summer, were pa.s.sed under the thwarts of his boat. My uncle told a story of him, to the effect that one cold winter's night he had gone to sleep under his boat, which had been hauled up and turned over on the beach, and that when he awoke in the morning his dog had been frozen to death, while he was only a little stiff in the neck. At all events, it was evident that he was a very hardy old man.

"There are many like to hear my yarns," he observed. "Now, for example, there was a gentleman down here from Lunnon, and he used to go out in my boat off to Spithead, and sometimes across to the Wight. One day I thought I would try one of my yarns on him, so I spun it off the reel.

He said, when I had finished, that it was a very good one, though it was very short, and when he stepped out of the boat he tipped me half-a-crown. The next day I took him out again, and spun him another yarn rather tougher than the first, and he gave me three s.h.i.+llings. Ho, ho, thought I to myself. If you pay according to the toughness of a yarn, I'll give you something worth your money. Well, the third day down he came, and said he wanted to go across to Cowes, if the tide would suit, and I told him it would; and now, I thought, here's a fine time for spinning a long yarn. I'll give you a tough one, and no mistake. Well, I spun away, and my eye if it didn't beat the two others hollow! We had a pretty quick run to the Wight and back, and just before I landed him, 'I hope you liked the story, sir,' says I. 'Very much,' says he. 'And by the by, I should pay you for it. Here's a couple of s.h.i.+llings.' I looked at the coin with disdain. 'Pardon, sir,' says I; 'that story's worth five s.h.i.+llings if it's worth a penny, and I can take nothing less.'

"'Are you in earnest, my man?' says he. 'Yes, sir,' says I; 'the story, if written down, would be worth ten times the money.'

"'Then you are an extortionate old scoundrel, without a sc.r.a.p of a conscience,' says he. 'Hard words, sir,' says I; 'but it can't be helped. We poor fellows must submit to great people.' But all I could say wouldn't do. He vowed that he would never give me anything again, and what is more, he never did, and never again would take my boat."

"Served you right too, old s.h.i.+p," said my uncle. "You learned by that, I hope, that moderation is the best policy. But heave ahead. You are not to charge us at the rate of a s.h.i.+lling a fathom for your yarns, remember that."

Old Jerry c.o.c.ked his eye with a knowing wink, and began. "Well then, one morning after I had been sleeping up at my uncle's, for some reason or other--it might have been that I'd had a drop too much the night afore, but I can't say, as it's some time ago--I don't score those things down in my log, d'ye see--I was going down the street with my boat-hook in my hand--I know that I had the boat-hook because I took it up with me. It was rather dusky, so to speak, because the sun wasn't up, nor would be for some hours to come, when, as I was pa.s.sing a house with a deep porch before the door, what should I see but a big pair of fiery eyes glaring out at me like hot coals from a grate in a dark room.

Never in all my life did I see such fierce red sparklers, but I never was a man to be daunted at anything, not I, so I gripped my boat-hook firmly in both hands and walked towards it. I wasn't given to fancy things, and I had never seen any imps of Satan, or Satan himself, and never wished to see them, so I thought this might be a dog or a cat, maybe, troubled with sore eyes, which made them look red. On I marched, therefore, as steady as a judge or a grenadier on parade, when, just as I got near the door, a dark s.h.a.ggy form rose up right before me, the eyes glowing redder and hotter than ever. It grew, and it grew, and grew, every moment getting taller and bigger, till it reached right up to the top of the house. I kept looking at it, thinking when it would have done growing; but as for running away, even if I had had any fancy for running, I knew that it would have come after me and would overhaul and gobble me up, in a quarter less no time, so I stood where I was, considering what would happen next. At last, thinks I to myself, you are not going to look at me in that way whatever you are; so, shutting my eyes, for I couldn't for the life of me bear its glare any longer, I made a desperate dash at it with my boat-hook. You should have heard the hullabaloo there was, and I found the boat-hook dragged right out of my hands. I opened my eyes just in time to see the monster, big as he was, bolt right through the door, carrying my boat-hook with him. I rushed after him to try and get it back, for it was a new ash one I had bought but a few days before, and I did not want to lose it, but I only knocked my head a hard rap against the door, and though I looked about everywhere I never could find it from that day to this; and that, mates, mind you, is the circ.u.mstantial and voracious way Jerry Vincent lost his boat-hook." And the old man gave one of his comical and expressive winks, and a pull at the gla.s.s of swisell which my uncle had placed by his side.

"Don't you all acknowledge that that story was well worth half-a-crown to a Lonnoner, seeing as how it was quite new, and he could never have heard it afore? Of course you'll all agree with me, now, to my mind, those Lonnoners are generally such know-nothing sort of chaps, though they think themselves so wise that they never will believe what you tell 'em. They are just like the old lady whose nevy had just come from sea.

When he told her that he'd seen flying-fish scores of times, she said he was trying to hoax her, and wouldn't listen to him, but when he said he'd been up the Red Sea, and that the water there was the colour of a soldier's coat, she said that she had no doubt about that, and that she was glad to listen to him when he spoke the truth. But," continued Jerry, who had now got into his talkative vein, "what I have been telling you is as nothing to what happened to me soon after then. I had been ill for some time, and could not tell what was the matter with me, when I happened one day to go to Portsdown fair. I thought the walk would do me good, and I wanted to see some of the fun going on. Well, after I had been to see the beasts and the raree shows, and the tumblers, and theatres, and conjurers, and taken a turn in a roundabout, on a wooden horse, which I found more easy to ride than a real one, because, do ye see, the wooden one never kicks, while, to speak the truth, whenever I've got on a regular-built animal, he to a certainty has s.h.i.+ed up his stern and sent me over his bows, sometimes right into a hedge, or a ditch, or a pond, or through a window, into a shop, or parlour, I happened to catch sight of a man standing at the end of an outlandish sort of a cart or a van, painted all over with red and yellow, and blue and gold, with a sort of a Chinaman's temple at one end of it.

"'Now, ladies and gentlemen,' says he, for he was a very polite sort of a chap, 'here's the universal 'lixier of life; it cures all complaints, and takes a man, if he has a mind to it and has proper faith in what it will do for him, right clear away to the end of the world. It's as infallible as the Pope of Rome and all his cardinals, and is patronised by all the first haristocracy and clergy in the country. Only one s.h.i.+lling a bottle, ladies and gentlemen; taken how you will and when you will--it's all the same--in a gla.s.s of grog, a bowl of punch, or a basin of pap; for old or young, for boys or girls, it will cure them all, and they will never feel ill again as long as they continue to take it.

Take enough of it, and take it long enough, and you will see the wonders it will work.'

"On hearing all this, I asked of those who were looking on, who the chap was, and they told me he was the celebrated Doctor Gulliman, who was going to send all the old regular pract.i.tioners to the right about, and it was wonderful what good he did, and how much more he would do if people would but trust him. I afterwards found out that the fellow who told me this was a friend of the doctor's, and stood there on purpose to say a good word in his favour, though he pretended to have nothing at all to do with him.

"Well, thinks I to myself, maybe he'll know how to cure me; so I made bold and went up to him.