A Marriage at Sea Part 27

"And here you've been all day?" said I.

"All day, sir, and all night too, and a dirty time it's bin."

"Waiting for something to give you a tow, with a long black night at hand?"

"Mr. Barclay," said he, "I told ye I should stick to that there little dandy, and I wouldn't break my word for no man."

"You sha'n't be disappointed," said Captain Verrion, bestowing on Caudel a hearty nod of approval, this time untinctured by condescension, "give us the end of your tow rope and we'll drag the dandy home for ye."

"Cap'n, I thank 'ee," said Caudel.

"You and the boy are pretty nigh wore out, I allow," exclaimed Captain Verrion. "I'll put a couple of men aboard the _Spitfire_. How often do she want pumping?"

"'Bout every half hour."

"You stay here," said Captain Verrion, looking with something of commiseration at Caudel, who, the longer one surveyed him, the more soaked, ashen, and s.h.i.+pwrecked one found him. "I'll send for the boy, and you can both dry yourselves and get a good long spell of rest."

He left us to give the necessary orders to his men, and, whilst the steamer launched her own boat, I stood talking with Caudel, telling him of our adventures aboard the _Carthusian_, of our marriage, and so forth. He listened very gravely whilst I talked of my marriage.

"I fear it's a sham," said I, "but it will be something to strengthen my hands with when I come to tackle Lady Amelia."

"A sham!" cried he, "no fear, sir. If you've been married by the master of a s.h.i.+p, there's no more splicing wanted. You're a wedded man. There can be no breaking away from it."

"How do you know?" said I, wondering whether he _did_ know.

"How do I know, sir? Why, the master of a s.h.i.+p can do anything aboard his own craft, and whatever he does is lawful."

This was mere forecastle superst.i.tion, and I saw that he did _not_ know.

"Anyway, Caudel," said I, "the wedding ring is on the young lady's finger. Captain Verrion has noticed it, and I shall feel obliged by your calling her Mrs. Barclay whenever you have occasion to speak of her. Give Allett that hint, too, will you?"

I had got into the shelter of the companion whilst I talked, and Grace, hearing my voice, called to me to tell her why the steamer had stopped, and if there was anything wrong.

"Come here, my darling," said I. She approached and stood at the foot of the steps. "We have fallen in with the _Spitfire_, Grace, and here is Caudel."

She uttered an exclamation of astonishment. He directed his oyster-like eyes into the comparative gloom, and then catching sight of her, knuckled his forehead, and exclaimed, "Bless your sweet face! And I am glad indeed, mum, to meet ye and find you both well and going home likewise." She came up the steps to give him her hand and I saw the old sailor's face working as he bent over it.

The steamer made a short job of the _Spitfire_; but a very little manoeuvring with the propeller was needful; a line connected the two vessels; the yacht's boat returned with the boy Bobby, leaving three of the steamer's crew in the dandy; the engine-room bell sounded, immediately was felt the thrilling of the engines in motion, and presently the _Mermaid_ was ripping through it once more with the poor little dismasted _Spitfire_ dead in her wake. I sent for the boy, and praised him warmly for his manly behaviour in sticking to Caudel.

Captain Verrion then told them both to go below and get some hot tea, and put on dry clothing belonging to them, that had been brought from the dandy.

"I'm thinking, sir," said he, when Caudel and the other had left, "that I can't do better than run you into Mount's Bay. I never was at Penzance, but I believe there's a bit of a harbour there, and no doubt a repairing slipway, and I understood that Penzance was your destination all along."

I a.s.sured him that he would be adding immeasurably to his kindness, by doing as he proposed, "but as to the _Spitfire_," I continued, "I sha'n't spend a farthing upon her. My intention is to sell her, and divide what she will fetch amongst those who have preserved her. I have had more of the _Spitfire_ than I want, Captain Verrion, and though I am glad to know that she is towing astern, I protest--a.s.suming the safety of her crew a.s.sured--that it would not have caused me a pang to learn she had gone to the bottom."

"Well, sir, we'll head for Mount's Bay then. It will be a saving of some few hours of sea anyway for the lady," and with that he trudged forward.

From the shelter of the companion hatch we could just catch a view over the steamer's taffrail of the _Spitfire_ as she came sliding after us to the pull of the tow-rope. With linked arms Grace and I stood looking at her. The air was darkening to the descent of the evening shadow, the rain poured continuously; but the wind was gone. The sea undulated in an oil-like surface, and the rain as it fell pitted the water with black points, as of ink. The melancholy of the scene was unspeakably heightened by that detail of mutilated, dismasted yacht astern, and by the tragic significance she gathered for us as we stood looking, recalling the night of the elopement, our stealthy floating out of Boulogne harbour, the gale that had nearly foundered us, and our escape that might well seem miraculous to our land-going eyes as we noticed her littleness and her present helplessness, and remembered the height of the seas which ran, and the hurricane weight of storm which she had survived.

We killed the evening with books and talk, and the minutes fled with the velocity of the flight of birds. Our sailor steward informed us that Caudel and the boy had turned in after making a hearty supper and were sleeping like dead men. I stood awhile in the companion to smoke a pipe before going to bed; but at that hour the night was as black as thunder, the wet hissed upon our decks as it fell; yet upon the white waters of the steamer's wake the dim configuration of the little _Spitfire_ was visible, with her weak side-lights of red and green dimly glimmering over the pale, faint stream of froth that rushed from the _Mermaid's_ counter to the dandy's sides.

It was possibly the thoughts and memories induced by the obscure and melancholy vision of the little fabric in our wake that rendered me nervous. I thought to myself--here we are steaming at ten or twelve knots an hour through a thick, coal-black night; suppose we should plunge into some wooden or metal side? Some such apprehensions as this, not quite idle nor unmanly either, dismissed me to my cabin with a resolution to lie down fully clothed, and for three hours I lay wide awake, listening to the restless grinding of the engines and to the sounds of water flowing swiftly past. I then rose, and felt my way up the companion steps, not doubting to find the same black, weeping night I had left; instead of which my mind was instantly relieved by the spectacle of a high, clear sky, crowded with stars, with the firm ebony line of the horizon showing sharp against the distant starry reaches, and within half a mile of us on our starboard beam the huge shape of an ocean steamer, some vessel from who shall tell what distant part of the world--the Cape, the Indies, the far-off Australias--sliding past us it seemed almost half as fast again as we ourselves were going, a vast symmetric shadow, like an island, with ore bright point of light only visible to my eyes.

I waited until she had drawn ahead, then turned in afresh, this time between the sheets, and slept like a top.

The change of weather, the clearness of the night helped us, and some time about two o'clock on the afternoon of Monday the _Mermaid_, with the _Spitfire_ in tow, was steaming into Mount's Bay. I stood with Grace on my arm looking. The land seemed as novel and refres.h.i.+ng to our sight as though we had kept the sea for weeks and weeks. The sun stood high, the blue waters delicately brushed by the light wind ran in foamless ripples, the long curve of the parade with the roofs of houses past it dominated by a church came stealing out of the green slopes and hills beyond. A few smacks from Newlyn were putting to sea, and the whole picture that way was rich with the dyes of their canvas.

The steamer was brought to a stand when she was yet some distance from Penzance harbour, but long before this we had been made out from the sh.o.r.e, and several boats were approaching to inquire what was wrong and to offer such help as the state of the _Spitfire_ suggested. Caudel and Captain Verrion came to us where we were standing, and the former said:

"I'm going aboard the dandy now, sir. I'll see her snug and will then take your honour's commands."

"Our address will be my cousin's house, which is some little distance from Penzance," I answered; "here it is," and I pulled out a piece of paper and scribbled the address upon it. "You'll be without anything in your pocket, I daresay," I continued, handing him five sovereigns.

"See to the boy, Caudel, and if he wants to go home you must learn where he lives, for I mean to sell that yacht there, and there'll be money to go to him. And so farewell for the present," said I, shaking the honest fellow heartily by the hand.

He saluted Grace, and went over the side, followed by Bobby Allett, and both of them were presently aboard the little _Spitfire_.

"There are boats coming," exclaimed Captain Verrion, "which will tow your dandy into Penzance harbour, sir. Will you go ash.o.r.e in one of them, or shall I have one of the yacht's boats lowered for you?"

Thanking him heartily, I replied that one of the Penzance boats would do very well, and then looking into my pocket-book and finding that I had no more gold about me than I should need, I entered the cabin, sent the sailor attendant for some ink, and wrote a couple of cheques, one of which I asked Captain Verrion to accept for himself, and to distribute the proceeds of the other amongst his crew. He was reluctant to take the money, said that the earl was a born gentleman who would wish him to do everything that had been done, that no sailor ought to receive money for serving people fallen in with in a condition of distress at sea; but I got him to put the cheques into his pocket at last, and several boats having by this time come alongside, I shook the worthy man by the hand, thanked him again and again for his treatment of us, and went with Grace down the little gangway ladder into the boat.

We had no sooner quitted the yacht than the engine-room bell rang, and the beautiful fabric was in motion, and before our boatmen had measured a dozen strokes, the steamer's stern was at us, with Captain Verrion flouris.h.i.+ng his bra.s.s-bound cap to us from the bridge. There were two boats alongside my wretched little dandy, and so quiet was the day that I could hear Caudel talking to their occupants. But I was now wholly done with her; honest Caudel and Bobby Allett were safe, and I could think of little more than of the string of adventures I should have to relate to my cousin, and of what was beyond, what Lady Amelia was going to do, whether it might come to my cousin being unable to publish the banns for us, and whether the darling at my side had been made my true and lawful wife by Captain Parsons' recital of the marriage service.

On landing we proceeded to the Queen's Hotel where I ordered dinner, and then wrote a letter to my cousin asking him and his wife to come to us as speedily as possible, adding that we had been very nearly s.h.i.+pwrecked and had met with some strange adventures, the narrative of which, if attempted, must fill a very considerable bundle of ma.n.u.script. This done I told the waiter to procure me a mounted messenger, and within three quarters of an hour of our arrival at Penzance my letter was on its way at a hard gallop to the little straggling village of ---- of which Frank Howe was vicar.

When we had dined I stood with Grace at the window of the sitting-room that overlooked the n.o.ble bight of Mount's Bay. On our left rose the lofty Marazion hills, with the little town of Marazion lying white at the eastern base of the range, and beyond ran the dark blue loom of Cudden Point melting into the dim azure of the Lizard district. The sun was in the west, his light was red, and this warm dye made a glorious autumn picture of that sweep of cliff embraced waters.

Several colliers lay high and dry on the mud just abreast of the town, but the _Spitfire_ had vanished, towed, as I might suppose, by boats to the security of the harbour that was hidden from me. Far past the distant giant foreland point was an orange-coloured sail showing like a delicate edge of cloud over the edge of the blue, lens-like rim of the sea. I thought of the _Carthusian_--of our sea marriage--and lifting my darling's hand, toyed mechanically with the wedding-ring upon it, whilst I looked at her.

She had been pale and nervous ever since our arrival; her delight in being safely ash.o.r.e at last had seemed but a short-lived sensation.

She looked at the ring with which I was toying and said:

"What shall I do with this thing?"

"Go on wearing it down to the time when it will be necessary to remove it in order to replace it."

"And what will your cousin think of me--a clergyman! And his wife is a clergyman's daughter. Oh, Herbert!" she added, sighing in a shuddering way.

"They will admire you, they will consider you the sweetest of girls.

What else can they think, Grace?"

But her mood was what it had been at the time we sailed out of Boulogne harbour. She was depressed, frightened, acutely sensitive, dreading opinion, and all to such a degree that she could utter nothing which was not full of apprehension and regret, so that anyone who had watched us unseen must have concluded that either we were not lovers, or that we had been married much longer than our tender years suggested. But lovers we were all the same! and however it might have been with _her_ in that little pa.s.sage of worry, uncertainty, and nervousness, she had never been dearer to me; never had I felt prouder of winning her heart, nor more triumphant in my possession of her.

CHAPTER XV

THE END

Time pa.s.sed, and I was beginning to fear that some engagement prevented Howe and his wife from coming over to us, when, hearing a noise of wheels, I stepped to the window and saw my cousin a.s.sisting a lady out of a smart little pony carriage.