Susan Part 15

"At night the convicts were all locked down under hatches and sentinels placed over them. The men lay six in a berth, and it so happened that one of these disclosed to Birt a plot that forty of them had made and signed with their blood. Would he join them and have his share of the prize?

"Now Birt dared not say no, for he feared for his life amongst those desperate men.

"'Before I say that I will,' he replied, 'I must know your plan. How is it possible to seize the s.h.i.+p when such a good look-out is kept?'

"Then the convict told him all that had been settled by the mutineers.

At four o'clock when the hatches were raised most of the officers went to their cabins, and there would be more than twenty convicts on deck who were all in the plot. They would then knock down the sentinels, get possession of the quarter-deck, and seize the firearms which were ready loaded. They would next release their other comrades and alter the course of the s.h.i.+p.

"'But what,' asked Birt, 'will you do with the captain, officers, and soldiers?'

"'We will kill the captain,' replied the wretch, 'and put his head at the main topgallant masthead--and we will put the first-mate's head at the mizzen, and the boatswain's at the fore. The other convicts who are not with us in the matter we shall put on sh.o.r.e at some island, and leave them to s.h.i.+ft for themselves, they are worth nothing. The s.h.i.+p is a good prize, for the captain has a large sum of money on board to take out for the East India Company. These things done, we shall kill the great hog, and with plenty of drink we shall have a good time of it. Do you join us?'

"Birt consented, for he dared not do otherwise; but all night long he thought, and thought, and wondered how to get the plot to the captain's knowledge. He was determined to save his life and that of the crew; but it was not an easy matter, for he knew that the convicts would now watch him narrowly and that he must not be seen talking to any of the officers. The only thing to do was to put it down in writing and get it somehow into their hands. But how to write it, when he was never a moment alone? and it must be done the next day.

"At last after much puzzling he hit upon a plan.

"In the morning when he went on deck he washed a s.h.i.+rt and took it up to the foretop to dry. Now the foretop is a place high up in the rigging of the s.h.i.+p, a very giddy height indeed, and when a man is there he is really almost out of sight and it is impossible to see what he is doing from the deck. Birt had a little pocket book with him, and in it, as he sat on the foretop, he wrote down all he knew about the intended mutiny.

When he went below he hoped to get a chance of slipping it into the captain's hand, or of putting it where he would be likely to find it.

"But luck was against him, for he could not get near the captain the whole of that day, and there were keen eyes always fastened upon him by the convicts, who were on deck by fifty at a time, and watched each other closely for fear of treachery. Amongst each fifty there were always some who were in the plot, and if they had suspected Birt of betraying them they would have made short work of him, and this he knew very well. Evening came, and still he had been able to do nothing. The next morning at four o'clock the b.l.o.o.d.y deed was to be done. He paced the deck to and fro, to and fro, almost in despair, and yet determined to venture something for the captain's sake. Then he noticed that the first-mate was in the hold, serving out water, and suddenly an idea came into Birt's head. He pretended to stumble, threw himself right down the hatchway as though by accident, and fell a distance of sixteen feet into the hold. As you may imagine all was immediately stir and excitement, for at first they thought he was killed--and, indeed, he was badly bruised, having fallen on to a water-cask. In the bustle, however, he managed to slip the book into the mate's hand, and the thing was done.

The surgeon was sent for and they got him up on deck, where, while his hurts were being looked to, he had the satisfaction of seeing the mate go aft and then into the captain's cabin.

"Promptly the soldiers were ordered up, but when the convicts on deck found their plot discovered they did not yield without a struggle. It was a short but a violent one, for in the confusion they got hold of some fire arms and fought desperately. The captain was twice wounded, and it was then that the old watch you see there had its share in saving his life. For the bullet, striking against the case and pa.s.sing through it, was thus lessened in force, and did not reach a vital part of the body. It was, nevertheless, a serious hurt, and caused him much suffering, for it was some days before the bit of metal could be extracted from the wound.

"Meanwhile the convicts, being overpowered, were secured under hatches again, and the captain then made Birt point out the ringleaders and the most desperate of the men, which he did to the number of thirteen.

These were placed in irons for the rest of the voyage, and when the vessel arrived at Port Jackson it was supposed they would have been hanged. But the governor declaring that it was not in his power to do so, they were registered to be kept in irons, chained two and two together, all their lives long.

"And thus this wicked plot was found out, and those wicked men punished, and thus it pleased Heaven to preserve your great-grandfather's life-- first by reason of the grat.i.tude and devotion of Mr Birt, and secondly through his stout old watch which did him good service and turned aside the enemy's bullet."

Aunt Hannah paused, and looked up at the picture again.

"But," said Susan, "what became of Mr Birt?"

"He was pardoned," replied my aunt, "on the representation of my father--because of the service he had rendered in saving the s.h.i.+p and crew at the risk of his own life."

"I'm glad of that," said Sophia Jane; "because it was so very good of him to tumble down the hatchway."

"He never returned to England," continued Aunt Hannah, "but settled in China, where I believe he prospered and became at last a rich man. My father often heard from him and always spoke of him with affection."

"That's a very nice story, indeed," said Susan. "I'm sorry it's over."

The account of the convicts' mutiny is taken from the Unpublished diary of Captain John Marshall, In command of the s.h.i.+p _Scarborough_ at the time.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

SHRIMPS AND GOOD-BYES.

Six months had pa.s.sed. Susan's visit to Ramsgate was drawing to a close, for her mother had said in her last letter that she should soon be able to fix the day of her return. Six whole months! How long, how endless they had seemed to look forward to, but how very short they were to look back on. Susan could hardly believe they were really gone. She remembered well how desolate she had felt at first, how strange everything had been to her, and how she had longed to see a familiar face; but now, though of course it would be delightful to go home, there really were some things in Ramsgate she would be sorry to leave. One of these was the sea. It had almost frightened her at first, but now she had grown to love its changing face and voice, which were scarcely ever the same for two days together. For sometimes, sparkling with smiles, it would keep up a pleasant ripple of conversation, breaking now and again into laughter. At other times, darkly frowning, it would toss itself up and down in restless vexations, and hurl its waves on the sh.o.r.e with hoa.r.s.e exclamations of anger. You could never be sure of it for long together, and in this it was strangely like the other thing which Susan felt she should miss--Sophia Jane. She and the sea were about equal in the uncertainty of their moods, for it must not be supposed that her nature was so changed by her illness that she became at once a good and agreeable little girl. This is not easy when one has become used for a long while to be tiresome and ill-tempered, for "habit," as Mrs Winslow had said, is a "giant power." The longer we have done wrong the more difficult it is to do right. And yet in some ways she was altered; she was not quite the same Sophia Jane who had said, "I like to vex 'em," six months ago.

Grateful for past kindness she now made many small efforts to please Aunt Hannah, and would even sometimes check herself when most irritated by Nanna's and Margaretta's reproofs. Naughty or good, she had now become such a close companion to Susan that any pleasure or amus.e.m.e.nt unshared by her would have been blank and dull. Now Susan knew what it was to have a companion she did not like to think of the time when she should learn lessons alone, and play alone, and have no one to talk over things with and make plans. Troubles were lessened and joys doubled by being shared, and when she thought of life at home without Sophia Jane she felt quite sad. At such moments she wondered whether her friend would be sorry too when the time came for them to part, and whether she really cared at all about her. It was difficult to find out, for Sophia Jane was not given to express herself affectionately, or to use terms of endearment to anyone. She had never been accustomed to it. The two people to whom she showed most attachment were Monsieur La Roche and his sister, and even to these she was never what Mademoiselle called "expansive." Remembering this, Susan felt it was quite possible that Sophia Jane would see her depart with an unmoved face and no word of regret, and sometimes this made her unhappy. She would have given a good deal for a word of fondness from her once despised companion, but all her efforts to extract it were useless.

"Shall you be dull after I go away?" she would ask, and Sophia Jane would answer shortly:

"You're not going yet. What's the good of talking about it?"

A day was now drawing near in which both the little girls were much interested--Sophia Jane's birthday. Susan's present, prepared with much caution and secrecy, was quite ready, and put away in a drawer till the time came. She had bought the wax head out of Miss Powter's shop which Sophia Jane had admired long ago, and fixed it to the body of the old doll. Then little by little she had carefully made a complete set of clothing for it, after the pattern of those Grace wore, and Mademoiselle Delphine had added the promised grey silk bonnet to the costume.

Altogether it made a substantial and handsome present, and Susan often went to look at it, and pictured to herself her companion's surprise and pleasure. And besides this there was something else to look forward to, for Aunt Hannah had promised that on this same occasion the children should go to Pegwell Bay and have shrimps for tea.

The Pegwell Bay shrimps were already famous in those days, and were considered far superior to any caught elsewhere; but the place itself had not yet become noisy and crowded as was the case in after years. It was still a quiet and beautiful little bay with only one countrified inn standing close to the sh.o.r.e. In the garden of this there were green arbours, or boxes, with neat tables and chairs, where you might sit at your ease, look out over the sea, watch the vessels sailing in the distance, and eat the dusky-brown shrimps for which Pegwell Bay was well-known. To these were added small new loaves of a peculiar shape, fresh b.u.t.ter, and tea. Nothing else could be had, but this simple fare was all very good of its kind, and to Susan and Sophia Jane it was more attractive than the finest banquet. And its attractions were increased by the fact that Aunt Hannah had given Sophia Jane leave to ask whom she chose to join her birthday party.

"Whom shall you ask?" said Susan as soon as they were alone after this permission.

"Only two people beside you," answered Sophia Jane immediately.

"Monsieur La Roche and his sister."

"Oh!" exclaimed Susan. She paused a moment, for it seemed a bold stroke on Sophia Jane's part; then she added:

"I should like them to go very much; but sha'n't you ask anyone else?

Not Margaretta and Nanna?"

"I don't mind _asking_ them," said Sophia Jane, "because I know they won't come."

And she was quite right, for on hearing of who were to form Sophia Jane's party to Pegwell Bay, Nanna and Margaretta became very scornful.

"What a ridiculous party!" exclaimed Margaretta. "Now, if you were to ask the little Winslows and their governess, and Mr and Mrs Bevis and those nice-looking pupils, how much better it would be. Nanna and I would go with you then."

"_Of course_," added Nanna, "if you're going to have Monsieur and his sister, who always look such absurd objects, you _couldn't_ ask any one else. But I call it very nonsensical. I wonder Aunt Hannah allows it?"

"Aunt said I might ask who I liked," replied Sophia Jane, "and I do like Monsieur and Mademoiselle, and I don't like the Winslows, and I can't bear Mr Bevis' pupils. You and Nanna may come if you like."

"We're much obliged to you," answered Margaretta with dignity, "but we greatly prefer staying at home."

So as Sophia Jane had said, there were only to be two guests beside Susan, for though Aunt Hannah was invited and made no objection at all to the party, she excused herself from joining it.

The invitation written and accepted, they had now only to wait till the time came, to wish heartily for a fine day, and to look forward to the event with an excitement quite unknown to those who have many pleasures.

It seemed slow in coming, but it came. The weather was bright and cloudless, and nothing was wanting to their satisfaction. It is true Nanna and Margaretta still looked scornfully superior when the party was mentioned, but that was not enough to spoil it, and both Susan and Sophia Jane set forth on their expedition with the lightest possible hearts, prepared for enjoyment.

Aunt Hannah was to take them to meet Monsieur and Mademoiselle at the place where the omnibus started for Pegwell Bay, and when they got within a short distance they could see that their punctual guests were already there waiting. They were both in the most cheerful spirits, and had attired themselves in a manner suitable to "le voyage." Monsieur, in particular, had cast aside his ordinary garments, and had now quite a marine and holiday air. He wore a white waistcoat and trousers rather shrunk, a sailor hat, and a short blue coat; slung round him by a bright new leather strap he carried a telescope in a neat case, with which to survey distant s.h.i.+pping, and in his hand a cane with a ta.s.sel.

Mademoiselle on her side had not forgotten to do honour to the occasion by a freshly-trimmed bonnet, and a small bouquet of spring flowers in the front of her black dress.

After some delay--partly caused by Monsieur, who had many polite speeches to make, and stepped about in front of Aunt Hannah with repeated bows, and partly by Mademoiselle's extreme reluctance to getting on to the top of the omnibus--the start was really made. Susan drew a deep breath of delight, and thought it was the most beautiful drive she had ever had.

Their way, after they had rattled through the streets of the town, lay for some distance along a sandy road with woods on each side of it. The sea was hidden, but there were the fresh green buds on the trees to look at, and the blue sky overhead flecked with little white clouds, and the larks to listen to singing high up in the air over distant cornfields.

By and by the road came out on the cliff again, and soon made a sudden dip so that the sea was now quite close to them, and on the other side another sea of freshly-springing wheat stretched away inland for miles.