Rodman The Boatsteerer And Other Stories Part 20

"Ah!" said Channing, with a laugh; "then you have got wine as well as money from the wreck of _L' Aigle Noir_."

The Frenchman's face darkened, and he stopped short.

"You know then, Monsieur, the reason of my remaining on this island?"

"I have heard," answered Channing frankly; and then, noticing the agitation expressed on the Frenchman's face, he added, "but that does not concern me, nor indeed any one else on board the _Triton_--not now, at any rate, since France and England are at peace."

Monsieur Le Mescam seemed greatly relieved at hearing this, and in another minute, chatting gaily to his visitor, led the way into his house. The building was but little better than an ordinary native dwelling, but it was furnished with rude couches and seats made from the wreckage of the privateer, and scattered about were many articles, such as weapons, crockery, cooking utensils, clothing, &c. Two or three native servants, who were lounging about, at once presented themselves to their master, and one of them, bringing a small keg, filled two silver cups with wine, and Channing and his host, bowing politely to each other, drank.

For some little time the two men conversed pleasantly, and then the Frenchman, who so far had avoided all allusion to the treasure, offered to conduct his guest a part of the way back to the native village. That he had not presented Channing to his wife did not surprise the latter, who imagined that she could scarcely be clothed in a befitting manner to meet a stranger, and he therefore did not even let his host know that he was aware of his wife being with him on the island.

Drinking a parting cup of wine together, the two men set out, the Frenchman leading the way past a number of sheds built of bamboos, and covered with atap thatch. As they reached the last of these buildings, which stood almost at the water's edge, they came upon a woman who was sitting, with her back turned to them, under the shade of the overhanging thatched eaves, nursing a child.

In a moment she rose to her feet and faced them, and rough and coa.r.s.ely clad as she was, Channing was struck by her great beauty and her sad and mournful face.

For a moment the Frenchman hesitated, and with a quick "Sit you there, Adela, I shall return shortly," was turning away again with Channing, when they heard the woman's voice calling in French, "Adrian, come back!" and then in another moment she added in English, as she saw Channing walking on, "And you, sir, in Heaven's name, do not leave me! I am an Englishwoman."

In an instant Channing turned, and quick as lightning the Frenchman, whose face was dark with pa.s.sion, barred his way--"Monsieur, as an honourable man, will not attempt to speak to my wife when I request him not to do so."

"And I beg of you, sir, as my fellow-countryman, not to desert me. I am indeed an Englishwoman. My father's s.h.i.+p was captured, plundered, and then sunk by a French privateer, within sight of Malacca. Both he and my mother are dead, and I was forced to marry that man there," and she pointed scornfully through her tears to Le Mescam. "His captain, who I thought had some honour, promised to set me ash.o.r.e at Manila, but when we reached there I was kept on board, and, ill and scarce able to speak, was married to Lieutenant Le Mescam, against my will, by a Spanish priest. Oh, sir, for the sake of my father, who was an English sailor, help me!"

Channing sprang towards her. "Madam, I am an Englishman, and there is a King's s.h.i.+p not four miles away. You, sir"--and he turned to the Frenchman, whose handsome face was now distorted with pa.s.sion--"shall answer for your cowardly conduct, or I very much mistake the character of the gallant officer under whom I have the honour to serve. Ha!" And with sudden fury he seized Le Mescam's right arm, the hand of which had grasped a pistol in the bosom of his coat. "You cowardly, treacherous hound!" and wrenching the weapon from his grasp, he struck the Frenchman in the face with it, and sent him spinning backward upon the sand, where he lay apparently stunned.

Then Charming turned to the woman, who, trembling in every limb, was leaning against the side of the house. "Madam, I shall return to the s.h.i.+p at once. Will you come with me now, or shall I go on first? That our captain will send a boat for you within an hour you may rely on. He will take quick action in such a matter as this. If you fear to remain alone, I shall with pleasure escort you on board now."

"No, no," she pleaded; "he," and she pointed to the p.r.o.ne figure of the Frenchman, "would never hurt me; and I cannot leave him like this--I cannot forget that, wicked and cruel as he has been to me, he is the father of my child. Return, sir, I pray you, to your s.h.i.+p, and if you can help me to escape from my unhappy position, do so. Were it not for the money that my husband is employed in getting from the sunken privateer, my lot would not have been so hard, for he would have returned with the other survivors to Batchian; and from there, by the weight of my poor father's name, I could easily have escaped to Maca.s.sar, where my mother's relatives live."

"Do not fear then, Madam," said Channing kindly, "I shall leave you now, but rest a.s.sured that a few hours hence you shall be among your own countrymen once more." Then as two native women appeared, as if searching for their mistress, he raised his hat and walked quickly away.

Armand Le Mescam, with the bitterest rage depicted on his swarthy features, rose to his feet, and instead of returning to his house went slowly along towards one of his storehouses, without even glancing at his wife, who stood watching him from where Channing had left her. In a few moments she saw his figure vanis.h.i.+ng among the palms, but not so quickly but that she perceived he carried a musket.

His intention was easy to divine, and with a despairing look in her eyes, she began to run after him, carrying the infant in her arms.

Private Watts, meanwhile, had very much enjoyed himself with the natives, who, by reason of the Polynesian strain in their blood, were a merry, demonstrative, joyous people, unlike most of the Malayan race, who are much the reverse, especially towards strangers. For some time he had been watching the native boys throwing darts at a target, and his attempts to emulate their skill aroused much childish merriment.

Suddenly the lengthening shadows of the surrounding palms recalled him to the fact that it was getting late, so bidding goodbye to his entertainers, he shouldered his fowling-piece and set off to meet his master, taking the same path as that by which Lieutenant Channing had left him. Half an hour's walk brought him to a spot where the path lay between the thick forest jungle on one side and the open beach on the other, with here and there jagged clumps of broken coral rock covered with a dense growth of vines and creepers.

Three or four hundred yards away he could see the tall figure of Lieutenant Channing walking quickly along the path; and so, sitting down upon a little strip of gra.s.sy sward that skirted the beach side of the track, the soldier awaited his master.

With the approach of sunset the wind had fallen, and though a mile or two away the thundering surges leapt with loud and resounding clamour upon the barrier reef, only the gentlest ripple disturbed the placid water of the sheltered lagoon. Overhead the broad leaves of the coco-palms, towering above the darker green of the surrounding vegetation, drooped languidly to the calm of the coming night, and great crested grey and purple-plumaged pigeons lit with crooning note upon their perches to rest.

As he lay there, lazily enjoying the beauty of the scene, the soldier heard the loud, hoa.r.s.e note and whistling and clapping of a hornbill, and, turning his head, he saw the huge-beaked, ugly bird, rising in alarm from one of the vine-covered boulders of coral which stood between the path and high-water mark not thirty yards away, and at the same moment he caught a gleam of something bright that seemed to move amid the dense green tangle that covered the rock; and then a man's head and shoulders appeared for a second in full view. His back was turned to Watts, who now saw, with a vague feeling of wonder, that he was kneeling, and peering cautiously out upon the path below. Further along Watts could see his master, now within a hundred feet of the boulder, and walking very quickly. Then an exclamation of horror broke from him as the kneeling man slowly rose, and pointed his musket full at Channing; but ere the treacherous hand could pull the trigger, the Marine had levelled his piece and fired; without a cry the man spun round, and then pitched headlong to the ground at Channing's feet.

"My G.o.d, sir!" panted Watts, as a few seconds later he stood beside his master, who was gazing with stupefied amazement at the huddled-up figure of Armand Le Mescam, who lay with his face turned upward, and a dark stream trickling from his mouth, "I was only just in time. He had you covered at ten paces when I fired."

Le Mescam never spoke again. The shot had struck him in the back and pa.s.sed through his chest. As the two men bent over him, a woman carrying a child burst through the jungle near them, sank exhausted on her knees beside the dead man, and then fainted.

There was much excitement when the last boat returned to the _Triton_ pulling as her crew had never pulled before. Then there was a rush of pig-tailed bluejackets to the gangway, as a murmuring whisper ran along the decks that the "soger officer was comin' aboard holdin' a woman in his arms," and the news was instantly conveyed to the captain, who was that evening dining with his officers, with the result that as the cutter ran up alongside, Captain Reay, the master, and half a dozen other officers were standing on the main deck.

"By Heavens, gentlemen, it's true!" cried Captain Reay to the others.

"Here, show more light at the gangway!"

And then amid a babble of excitement, Lieutenant Channing, pale, hatless, and excited, ascended the gangway, carrying in his arms a woman whose white face and dark hair stood clearly revealed under the blaze of lights held aloft by the seamen. As he touched the deck, the sleeping babe in her arms awoke, and uttered a wailing cry.

"Take her to my cabin, Channing," said Reay, without waiting to question him. "Here! give me the youngster, quick! Sentry, pa.s.s the word for the doctor."

The moment the officers had disappeared a buzz of talk hummed, and Private Watts was besieged with questions. "Give us a tot, an' I'll tell ye all about it, afore I'm sent for by the captain," was his prompt answer; and then swallowing the generous draught provided him, he told his story in as few words as possible.

A big, bony sergeant slapped him on the shoulder, "Mon, ye'll hae your stripes for this."

"Ay, that he will," said a hairy-chested boatswain. "Well, it's a uncommon curious ewent: this 'ere young covey goes a-shootin', and bags a Frenchman, and the soger officer brings a hangel and a cherrybim aboard."

The officers of the Triton sat long over their wine that night, and Lieutenant Channing was the recipient of much merry badinage; but there was behind it all a sincere feeling of joy that he had escaped such a treacherous death. Private Watts being sent for, was excused by the Scotch sergeant, who gravely reported that he was bad in the legs, whereat the officers laughed, and straightway made up a purse of guineas for him. Suddenly, as Captain Reay entered, the babble ceased.

"Gentlemen, let Mr. Channing turn in; he wants rest. The lady and her baby are now sound asleep. She has told me her strange story. To-morrow, Mr. West, you can take a boat's crew, and bring aboard a large sum of money concealed in a spot of which I shall give you an exact description. It belongs to this lady undoubtedly, now that Watts's lucky shot has settled her ruffianly husband."

Two days after, the frigate had cleared her harbour of refuge, and was bowling along on her course for Ternate when Captain Reay sent for Lieutenant Channing to come to his cabin.

"Channing," he said, taking his hand with a smile, "it is my happy lot to give you what I know will prove a joyful surprise. This lady"--and he bowed to Mrs. Le Mescam, who was sitting looking at him with a bright expectancy in her dark eyes--"is your own cousin, Adela Channing. There, I'll leave you now. She has much to tell you, poor girl; I have decided to go straight to the Admiral at Singapore instead of touching at Ternate, and if old Cardew is worth his salt he'll give you leave to take her to Calcutta."

Of course, Channing and Adela fell in love with each other, and he duly married the lady, and when they reached England he received the news of the inheritance that had fallen to him by John Channing's death.

Ex-Sergeant Watts, of the Marines, followed his master when he retired from the Service, and was for long the especial guardian of the "cherubim," as Adela Channing's eldest boy had been named by the _Triton's_ people--until other sons and daughters appeared to claim his devotion.

PROCTOR THE DRUNKARD

Proctor, the ex-second mate of the island-trading brig _Bandolier_, crawled out from under the shelter of the overhanging rock where he had pa.s.sed the night, and brus.h.i.+ng off the thick coating of dust which covered his clothes from head to foot, walked quickly through the leafy avenues of Sydney Domain, leading to the city.

Sleeping under a rock in a public park is not a nice thing to do, but Proctor had been forced to do it for many weeks past. He didn't like it at first, but soon got used to it. It was better than having to ask old Mother Jennings for a bed at the dirty lodging-house, and being refused--with unnecessary remarks upon his financial position. The Sailors' Home was right enough; he could get a free bed there for the asking, and some tucker as well. But then at the Home he had to listen to prayers and religious advice, and he hated both, upon an empty stomach. No, he thought, the Domain was a lot better; every dirty "Jack Dog" at the Home knew he had been kicked out of sundry s.h.i.+ps before he piled up the _Bandolier_, and they liked to comment audibly on their knowledge of the fact while he was eating his dinner among them--it's a way which A.B.'s have of "rubbing it in" to an officer down on his beam ends. Drunkard? Yes, of course he was, and everybody knew it. Why, even that sour-faced old devil of a door-keeper at the Home put a tract on his bed every evening. Curse him and his "Drunkard, beware!" and every other rotten tract on intemperance. Well, he had been sober for a week now--hadn't any money to get drunk with. If he had he certainly would get drunk, as quickly as he possibly could. Might as well get drunk as try to get a s.h.i.+p now. Why, every wharf-loafer knew him.

A hot feeling came to his cheeks and stayed there as he walked through the streets, for he seemed to hear every one laugh and mutter at him as he pa.s.sed, "That's the boozy mate of the _Bandolier_. Ran her ash.o.r.e in the Islands when he was drunk and drowned most of the hands."