CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
FURTHER PROCEEDINGS IN EDEN, AND A PROCEEDING OUT OF IT. MARTIN MAKES ADISCOVERY OF SOME IMPORTANCE
From Mr Moddle to Eden is an easy and natural transition. Mr Moddle,living in the atmosphere of Miss Pecksniff's love, dwelt (if he had butknown it) in a terrestrial Paradise. The thriving city of Eden wasalso a terrestrial Paradise, upon the showing of its proprietors. Thebeautiful Miss Pecksniff might have been poetically described as asomething too good for man in his fallen and degraded state. Thatwas exactly the character of the thriving city of Eden, as poeticallyheightened by Zephaniah Scadder, General Choke, and other worthies; partand parcel of the talons of that great American Eagle, which is alwaysairing itself sky-high in purest aether, and never, no never, never,tumbles down with draggled wings into the mud.
When Mark Tapley, leaving Martin in the architectural and surveyingoffices, had effectually strengthened and encouraged his own spiritsby the contemplation of their joint misfortunes, he proceeded, withnew cheerfulness, in search of help; congratulating himself, as he wentalong, on the enviable position to which he had at last attained.
'I used to think, sometimes,' said Mr Tapley, 'as a desolate islandwould suit me, but I should only have had myself to provide for there,and being naturally a easy man to manage, there wouldn't have been muchcredit in THAT. Now here I've got my partner to take care on, and he'ssomething like the sort of man for the purpose. I want a man as isalways a-sliding off his legs when he ought to be on 'em. I want aman as is so low down in the school of life that he's always a-makingfigures of one in his copy-book, and can't get no further. I want a manas is his own great coat and cloak, and is always a-wrapping himself upin himself. And I have got him too,' said Mr Tapley, after a moment'ssilence. 'What a happiness!'
He paused to look round, uncertain to which of the log-houses he shouldrepair.
'I don't know which to take,' he observed; 'that's the truth. They'reequally prepossessing outside, and equally commodious, no doubt, within;being fitted up with every convenience that a Alligator, in a state ofnatur', could possibly require. Let me see! The citizen as turned outlast night, lives under water, in the right hand dog-kennel at thecorner. I don't want to trouble him if I can help it, poor man, forhe is a melancholy object; a reg'lar Settler in every respect. There'shouse with a winder, but I am afraid of their being proud. I don't knowwhether a door ain't too aristocratic; but here goes for the first one!'
He went up to the nearest cabin, and knocked with his hand. Beingdesired to enter, he complied.
'Neighbour,' said Mark; 'for I AM a neighbour, though you don't know me;I've come a-begging. Hallo! hal--lo! Am I a-bed, and dreaming!'
He made this exclamation on hearing his own name pronounced, and findinghimself clasped about the skirts by two little boys, whose faces he hadoften washed, and whose suppers he had often cooked, on board of thatnoble and fast-sailing line-of-packet ship, the Screw.
'My eyes is wrong!' said Mark. 'I don't believe 'em. That ain't myfellow-passenger younder, a-nursing her little girl, who, I am sorry tosee, is so delicate; and that ain't her husband as come to New York tofetch her. Nor these,' he added, looking down upon the boys, 'ain't themtwo young shavers as was so familiar to me; though they are uncommonlike 'em. That I must confess.'
The woman shed tears, in very joy to see him; the man shook both hishands and would not let them go; the two boys hugged his legs; the sickchild in the mother's arms stretched out her burning little fingers, andmuttered, in her hoarse, dry throat, his well-remembered name.
It was the same family, sure enough. Altered by the salubrious air ofEden. But the same.
'This is a new sort of a morning call,' said Mark, drawing a longbreath. 'It strikes one all of a heap. Wait a little bit! I'm a-cominground fast. That'll do! These gentlemen ain't my friends. Are they onthe visiting list of the house?'
The inquiry referred to certain gaunt pigs, who had walked in after him,and were much interested in the heels of the family. As they did notbelong to the mansion, they were expelled by the two little boys.
'I ain't superstitious about toads,' said Mark, looking round the room,'but if you could prevail upon the two or three I see in company, tostep out at the same time, my young friends, I think they'd find theopen air refreshing. Not that I at all object to 'em. A very handsomeanimal is a toad,' said Mr Tapley, sitting down upon a stool; 'veryspotted; very like a partickler style of old gentleman about the throat;very bright-eyed, very cool, and very slippy. But one sees 'em to thebest advantage out of doors perhaps.'
While pretending, with such talk as this, to be perfectly at his ease,and to be the most indifferent and careless of men, Mark Tapley hadan eye on all around him. The wan and meagre aspect of the family, thechanged looks of the poor mother, the fevered child she held in her lap,the air of great despondency and little hope on everything, were plainto him, and made a deep impression on his mind. He saw it all asclearly and as quickly, as with his bodily eyes he saw the rough shelvessupported by pegs driven between the logs, of which the house was made;the flour-cask in the corner, serving also for a table; the blankets,spades, and other articles against the walls; the damp that blotched theground; or the crop of vegetable rottenness in every crevice of the hut.
'How is it that you have come here?' asked the man, when their firstexpressions of surprise were over.
'Why, we come by the steamer last night,' replied Mark. 'Our intentionis to make our fortuns with punctuality and dispatch; and to retire uponour property as soon as ever it's realised. But how are you all? You'relooking noble!'
'We are but sickly now,' said the poor woman, bending over her child.'But we shall do better when we are seasoned to the place.'
'There are some here,' thought Mark 'whose seasoning will last forever.'
But he said cheerfully, 'Do better! To be sure you will. We shall alldo better. What we've got to do is, to keep up our spirits, and beneighbourly. We shall come all right in the end, never fear. Thatreminds me, by the bye, that my partner's all wrong just at present;and that I looked in to beg for him. I wish you'd come and give me youropinion of him, master.'
That must have been a very unreasonable request on the part of MarkTapley, with which, in their gratitude for his kind offices on board theship, they would not have complied instantly. The man rose to accompanyhim without a moment's delay. Before they went, Mark took the sick childin his arms, and tried to comfort the mother; but the hand of death wason it then, he saw.
They found Martin in the house, lying wrapped up in his blanket onthe ground. He was, to all appearance, very ill indeed, and shook andshivered horribly; not as people do from cold, but in a frightfulkind of spasm or convulsion, that racked his whole body. Mark's friendpronounced his disease an aggravated kind of fever, accompanied withague; which was very common in those parts, and which he predicted wouldbe worse to-morrow, and for many more to-morrows. He had had it himselfoff and on, he said, for a couple of years or so; but he was thankfulthat, while so many he had known had died about him, he had escaped withlife.
'And with not too much of that,' thought Mark, surveying his emaciatedform. 'Eden for ever!'
They had some medicine in their chest; and this man of sad experienceshowed Mark how and when to administer it, and how he could bestalleviate the sufferings of Martin. His attentions did not stop there;for he was backwards and forwards constantly, and rendered Markgood service in all his brisk attempts to make their situation moreendurable. Hope or comfort for the future he could not bestow. Theseason was a sickly one; the settlement a grave. His child died thatnight; and Mark, keeping the secret from Martin, helped to bury it,beneath a tree, next day.
With all his various duties of attendance upon Martin (who became themore exacting in his claims, the worse he grew), Mark worked out ofdoors, early and late; and with the assistance of his friend and others,laboured to do something with their land. Not that he had the leaststrength of heart or hope, or steady purpose in so doing, beyond th
ehabitual cheerfulness of his disposition, and his amazing power ofself-sustainment; for within himself, he looked on their conditionas beyond all hope, and, in his own words, 'came out strong' inconsequence.
'As to coming out as strong as I could wish, sir,' he confided to Martinin a leisure moment; that is to say, one evening, while he was washingthe linen of the establishment, after a hard day's work, 'that I giveup. It's a piece of good fortune as never is to happen to me, I see!'
'Would you wish for circumstances stronger than these?' Martin retortedwith a groan, from underneath his blanket.
'Why, only see how easy they might have been stronger, sir,' said Mark,'if it wasn't for the envy of that uncommon fortun of mine, which isalways after me, and tripping me up. The night we landed here, I thoughtthings did look pretty jolly. I won't deny it. I thought they did lookpretty jolly.'
'How do they look now?' groaned Martin.
'Ah!' said Mark, 'Ah, to be sure. That's the question. How do they looknow? On the very first morning of my going out, what do I do? Stumbleon a family I know, who are constantly assisting of us in all sorts ofways, from that time to this! That won't do, you know; that ain't whatI'd a right to expect. If I had stumbled on a serpent and got bit; orstumbled on a first-rate patriot, and got bowie-knifed, or stumbled on alot of Sympathisers with inverted shirt-collars, and got made a lion of;I might have distinguished myself, and earned some credit. As it is,the great object of my voyage is knocked on the head. So it would be,wherever I went. How do you feel to-night, sir?'
'Worse than ever,' said poor Martin.
'That's something,' returned Mark, 'but not enough. Nothing but beingvery bad myself, and jolly to the last, will ever do me justice.'
'In Heaven's name, don't talk of that,' said Martin with a thrill ofterror. 'What should I do, Mark, if you were taken ill!'
Mr Tapley's spirits appeared to be stimulated by this remark, althoughit was not a very flattering one. He proceeded with his washing in abrighter mood; and observed 'that his glass was arising.'
'There's one good thing in this place, sir,' said Mr Tapley, scrubbingaway at the linen, 'as disposes me to be jolly; and that is that it'sa reg'lar little United States in itself. There's two or three Americansettlers left; and they coolly comes over one, even here, sir, as if itwas the wholesomest and loveliest spot in the world. But they're likethe cock that went and hid himself to save his life, and was found outby the noise he made. They can't help crowing. They was born to do it,and do it they must, whatever comes of it.'
Glancing from his work out at the door as he said these words, Mark'seyes encountered a lean person in a blue frock and a straw hat, witha short black pipe in his mouth, and a great hickory stick studded allover with knots, in his hand; who smoking and chewing as he came along,and spitting frequently, recorded his progress by a train of decomposedtobacco on the ground.
'Here's one on 'em,' cried Mark, 'Hannibal Chollop.'
'Don't let him in,' said Martin, feebly.
'He won't want any letting in,' replied Mark. 'He'll come in, sir.'Which turned out to be quite true, for he did. His face was almost ashard and knobby as his stick; and so were his hands. His head was likean old black hearth-broom. He sat down on the chest with his hat on;and crossing his legs and looking up at Mark, said, without removing hispipe:
'Well, Mr Co.! and how do you git along, sir?'
It may be necessary to observe that Mr Tapley had gravely introducedhimself to all strangers, by that name.
'Pretty well, sir; pretty well,' said Mark.
'If this ain't Mr Chuzzlewit, ain't it!' exclaimed the visitor 'How doYOU git along, sir?'
Martin shook his head, and drew the blanket over it involuntarily; forhe felt that Hannibal was going to spit; and his eye, as the song says,was upon him.
'You need not regard me, sir,' observed Mr Chollop, complacently. 'I amfever-proof, and likewise agur.'
'Mine was a more selfish motive,' said Martin, looking out again. 'I wasafraid you were going to--'
'I can calc'late my distance, sir,' returned Mr Chollop, 'to an inch.'
With a proof of which happy faculty he immediately favoured him.
'I re-quire, sir,' said Hannibal, 'two foot clear in a circ'lardi-rection, and can engage my-self toe keep within it. I HAVE gone tenfoot, in a circ'lar di-rection, but that was for a wager.'
'I hope you won it, sir,' said Mark.
'Well, sir, I realised the stakes,' said Chollop. 'Yes, sir.'
He was silent for a time, during which he was actively engaged in theformation of a magic circle round the chest on which he sat. When it wascompleted, he began to talk again.
'How do you like our country, sir?' he inquired, looking at Martin.
'Not at all,' was the invalid's reply.
Chollop continued to smoke without the least appearance of emotion,until he felt disposed to speak again. That time at length arriving, hetook his pipe from his mouth, and said:
'I am not surprised to hear you say so. It re-quires An elevation, andA preparation of the intellect. The mind of man must be prepared forFreedom, Mr Co.'
He addressed himself to Mark; because he saw that Martin, who wishedhim to go, being already half-mad with feverish irritation, which thedroning voice of this new horror rendered almost insupportable, hadclosed his eyes, and turned on his uneasy bed.
'A little bodily preparation wouldn't be amiss, either, would it, sir,'said Mark, 'in the case of a blessed old swamp like this?'
'Do you con-sider this a swamp, sir?' inquired Chollop gravely.
'Why yes, sir,' returned Mark. 'I haven't a doubt about it myself.'
'The sentiment is quite Europian,' said the major, 'and does notsurprise me; what would your English millions say to such a swamp inEngland, sir?'
'They'd say it was an uncommon nasty one, I should think, said Mark;'and that they would rather be inoculated for fever in some other way.'
'Europian!' remarked Chollop, with sardonic pity. 'Quite Europian!'
And there he sat. Silent and cool, as if the house were his; smokingaway like a factory chimney.
Mr Chollop was, of course, one of the most remarkable men in thecountry; but he really was a notorious person besides. He was usuallydescribed by his friends, in the South and West, as 'a splendid sampleof our na-tive raw material, sir,' and was much esteemed for hisdevotion to rational Liberty; for the better propagation whereof heusually carried a brace of revolving pistols in his coat pocket, withseven barrels a-piece. He also carried, amongst other trinkets, asword-stick, which he called his 'Tickler.' and a great knife, which(for he was a man of a pleasant turn of humour) he called 'Ripper,' inallusion to its usefulness as a means of ventilating the stomach ofany adversary in a close contest. He had used these weapons withdistinguished effect in several instances, all duly chronicled in thenewspapers; and was greatly beloved for the gallant manner in whichhe had 'jobbed out' the eye of one gentleman, as he was in the act ofknocking at his own street-door.
Mr Chollop was a man of a roving disposition; and, in any less advancedcommunity, might have been mistaken for a violent vagabond. But his finequalities being perfectly understood and appreciated in those regionswhere his lot was cast, and where he had many kindred spirits to consortwith, he may be regarded as having been born under a fortunate star,which is not always the case with a man so much before the age in whichhe lives. Preferring, with a view to the gratification of his ticklingand ripping fancies, to dwell upon the outskirts of society, and in themore remote towns and cities, he was in the habit of emigrating fromplace to place, and establishing in each some business--usually anewspaper--which he presently sold; for the most part closing thebargain by challenging, stabbing, pistolling, or gouging the new editor,before he had quite taken possession of the property.
He had come to Eden on a speculation of this kind, but had abandoned it,and was about to leave. He always introduced himself to strangers asa worshipper of Freedom; was the consistent advocate of Lynch law,and slavery;
and invariably recommended, both in print and speech,the 'tarring and feathering' of any unpopular person who differed fromhimself. He called this 'planting the standard of civilization in thewilder gardens of My country.'
There is little doubt that Chollop would have planted this standard inEden at Mark's expense, in return for his plainness of speech (for thegenuine Freedom is dumb, save when she vaunts herself), but for theutter desolation and decay prevailing in the settlement, and his ownapproaching departure from it. As it was, he contented himself withshowing Mark one of the revolving-pistols, and asking him what hethought of that weapon.
'It ain't long since I shot a man down with that, sir, in the State ofIllinOY,' observed Chollop.
'Did you, indeed!' said Mark, without the smallest agitation. 'Very freeof you. And very independent!'
'I shot him down, sir,' pursued Chollop, 'for asserting in the SpartanPortico, a tri-weekly journal, that the ancient Athenians went a-head ofthe present Locofoco Ticket.'
'And what's that?' asked Mark.
'Europian not to know,' said Chollop, smoking placidly. 'Europianquite!'
After a short devotion to the interests of the magic circle, he resumedthe conversation by observing:
'You won't half feel yourself at home in Eden, now?'
'No,' said Mark, 'I don't.'
'You miss the imposts of your country. You miss the house dues?'observed Chollop.
'And the houses--rather,' said Mark.
'No window dues here, sir,' observed Chollop.
'And no windows to put 'em on,' said Mark.
'No stakes, no dungeons, no blocks, no racks, no scaffolds, nothumbscrews, no pikes, no pillories,' said Chollop.
'Nothing but rewolwers and bowie-knives,' returned Mark. 'And what arethey? Not worth mentioning!'
The man who had met them on the night of their arrival came crawling upat this juncture, and looked in at the door.
'Well, sir,' said Chollop. 'How do YOU git along?'
He had considerable difficulty in getting along at all, and said as muchin reply.
'Mr Co. And me, sir,' observed Chollop, 'are disputating a piece. Heought to be slicked up pretty smart to disputate between the Old Worldand the New, I do expect?'
'Well!' returned the miserable shadow. 'So he had.'
'I was merely observing, sir,' said Mark, addressing this new visitor,'that I looked upon the city in which we have the honour to live, asbeing swampy. What's your sentiments?'
'I opinionate it's moist perhaps, at certain times,' returned the man.
'But not as moist as England, sir?' cried Chollop, with a fierceexpression in his face.
'Oh! Not as moist as England; let alone its Institutions,' said the man.
'I should hope there ain't a swamp in all Americay, as don't whip THATsmall island into mush and molasses,' observed Chollop, decisively. 'Youbought slick, straight, and right away, of Scadder, sir?' to Mark.
He answered in the affirmative. Mr Chollop winked at the other citizen.
'Scadder is a smart man, sir? He is a rising man? He is a man as willcome up'ards, right side up, sir?' Mr Chollop winked again at the othercitizen.
'He should have his right side very high up, if I had my way,' saidMark. 'As high up as the top of a good tall gallows, perhaps.'
Mr Chollop was so delighted at the smartness of his excellent countrymanhaving been too much for the Britisher, and at the Britisher's resentingit, that he could contain himself no longer, and broke forth in a shoutof delight. But the strangest exposition of this ruling passion wasin the other--the pestilence-stricken, broken, miserable shadow of aman--who derived so much entertainment from the circumstance that heseemed to forget his own ruin in thinking of it, and laughed outrightwhen he said 'that Scadder was a smart man, and had draw'd a lot ofBritish capital that way, as sure as sun-up.'
After a full enjoyment of this joke, Mr Hannibal Chollop sat smoking andimproving the circle, without making any attempts either to converse orto take leave; apparently labouring under the not uncommon delusionthat for a free and enlightened citizen of the United States to convertanother man's house into a spittoon for two or three hours together, wasa delicate attention, full of interest and politeness, of which nobodycould ever tire. At last he rose.
'I am a-going easy,' he observed.
Mark entreated him to take particular care of himself.
'Afore I go,' he said sternly, 'I have got a leetle word to say to you.You are darnation 'cute, you are.'
Mark thanked him for the compliment.
'But you are much too 'cute to last. I can't con-ceive of any spottedPainter in the bush, as ever was so riddled through and through as youwill be, I bet.'
'What for?' asked Mark.
'We must be cracked up, sir,' retorted Chollop, in a tone of menace.'You are not now in A despotic land. We are a model to the airth, andmust be jist cracked-up, I tell you.'
'What! I speak too free, do I?' cried Mark.
'I have draw'd upon A man, and fired upon A man for less,' said Chollop,frowning. 'I have know'd strong men obleeged to make themselves uncommonskase for less. I have know'd men Lynched for less, and beaten intopunkin'-sarse for less, by an enlightened people. We are the intellectand virtue of the airth, the cream of human natur', and the flowerOf moral force. Our backs is easy ris. We must be cracked-up, or theyrises, and we snarls. We shows our teeth, I tell you, fierce. You'dbetter crack us up, you had!'
After the delivery of this caution, Mr Chollop departed; with Ripper,Tickler, and the revolvers, all ready for action on the shortest notice.
'Come out from under the blanket, sir,' said Mark, 'he's gone. What'sthis!' he added softly; kneeling down to look into his partner'sface, and taking his hot hand. 'What's come of all that chattering andswaggering? He's wandering in his mind to-night, and don't know me!'
Martin indeed was dangerously ill; very near his death. He lay in thatstate many days, during which time Mark's poor friends, regardless ofthemselves, attended him. Mark, fatigued in mind and body; workingall the day and sitting up at night; worn with hard living and theunaccustomed toil of his new life; surrounded by dismal and discouragingcircumstances of every kind; never complained or yielded in the leastdegree. If ever he had thought Martin selfish or inconsiderate, or haddeemed him energetic only by fits and starts, and then too passive fortheir desperate fortunes, he now forgot it all. He remembered nothingbut the better qualities of his fellow-wanderer, and was devoted to him,heart and hand.
Many weeks elapsed before Martin was strong enough to move about withthe help of a stick and Mark's arm; and even then his recovery, for wantof wholesome air and proper nourishment, was very slow. He was yet in afeeble and weak condition, when the misfourtune he had so much dreadedfell upon them. Mark was taken ill.
Mark fought against it; but the malady fought harder, and his effortswere in vain.
'Floored for the present, sir,' he said one morning, sinking back uponhis bed; 'but jolly!'
Floored indeed, and by a heavy blow! As any one but Martin might haveknown beforehand.
If Mark's friends had been kind to Martin (and they had been very), theywere twenty times kinder to Mark. And now it was Martin's turn to work,and sit beside the bed and watch, and listen through the long, longnights, to every sound in the gloomy wilderness; and hear poor MrTapley, in his wandering fancy, playing at skittles in the Dragon,making love-remonstrances to Mrs Lupin, getting his sea-legs on boardthe Screw, travelling with old Tom Pinch on English roads, and burningstumps of trees in Eden, all at once.
But whenever Martin gave him drink or medicine, or tended him in anyway, or came into the house returning from some drudgery without, thepatient Mr Tapley brightened up and cried: 'I'm jolly, sir; 'I'm jolly!'
Now, when Martin began to think of this, and to look at Mark as he laythere; never reproaching him by so much as an expression of regret;never murmuring; always striving to be manful and staunch; he began tothink, how was it that this man who had had so few advantag
es, was somuch better than he who had had so many? And attendance upon a sick bed,but especially the sick bed of one whom we have been accustomed to seein full activity and vigour, being a great breeder of reflection, hebegan to ask himself in what they differed.
He was assisted in coming to a conclusion on this head by the frequentpresence of Mark's friend, their fellow-passenger across the ocean,which suggested to him that in regard to having aided her, for example,they had differed very much. Somehow he coupled Tom Pinch with thistrain of reflection; and thinking that Tom would be very likely to havestruck up the same sort of acquaintance under similar circumstances,began to think in what respects two people so extremely different werelike each other, and were unlike him. At first sight there was nothingvery distressing in these meditations, but they did undoubtedly distresshim for all that.
Martin's nature was a frank and generous one; but he had been bred upin his grandfather's house; and it will usually be found that themeaner domestic vices propagate themselves to be their own antagonists.Selfishness does this especially; so do suspicion, cunning, stealth, andcovetous propensities. Martin had unconsciously reasoned as a child, 'Myguardian takes so much thought of himself, that unless I do the like byMYself, I shall be forgotten.' So he had grown selfish.
But he had never known it. If any one had taxed him with the vice, hewould have indignantly repelled the accusation, and conceived himselfunworthily aspersed. He never would have known it, but that being newlyrisen from a bed of dangerous sickness, to watch by such another couch,he felt how nearly Self had dropped into the grave, and what a poordependent, miserable thing it was.
It was natural for him to reflect--he had months to do it in--upon hisown escape, and Mark's extremity. This led him to consider which of themcould be the better spared, and why? Then the curtain slowly rose a verylittle way; and Self, Self, Self, was shown below.
He asked himself, besides, when dreading Mark's decease (as all men doand must, at such a time), whether he had done his duty by him, and haddeserved and made a good response to his fidelity and zeal. No. Shortas their companionship had been, he felt in many, many instances, thatthere was blame against himself; and still inquiring why, the curtainslowly rose a little more, and Self, Self, Self, dilated on the scene.
It was long before he fixed the knowledge of himself so firmly in hismind that he could thoroughly discern the truth; but in the hideoussolitude of that most hideous place, with Hope so far removed, Ambitionquenched, and Death beside him rattling at the very door, reflectioncame, as in a plague-beleaguered town; and so he felt and knew thefailing of his life, and saw distinctly what an ugly spot it was.
Eden was a hard school to learn so hard a lesson in; but there wereteachers in the swamp and thicket, and the pestilential air, who had asearching method of their own.
He made a solemn resolution that when his strength returned he would notdispute the point or resist the conviction, but would look upon it as anestablished fact, that selfishness was in his breast, and must be rootedout. He was so doubtful (and with justice) of his own character, that hedetermined not to say one word of vain regret or good resolve to Mark,but steadily to keep his purpose before his own eyes solely; and therewas not a jot of pride in this; nothing but humility and steadfastness;the best armour he could wear. So low had Eden brought him down. So highhad Eden raised him up.
After a long and lingering illness (in certain forlorn stages of which,when too far gone to speak, he had feebly written 'jolly!' on a slate),Mark showed some symptoms of returning health. They came and went, andflickered for a time; but he began to mend at last decidedly; and afterthat continued to improve from day to day.
As soon as he was well enough to talk without fatigue, Martin consultedhim upon a project he had in his mind, and which a few months back hewould have carried into execution without troubling anybody's head buthis own.
'Ours is a desperate case,' said Martin. 'Plainly. The place isdeserted; its failure must have become known; and selling what we havebought to any one, for anything, is hopeless, even if it were honest. Weleft home on a mad enterprise, and have failed. The only hope leftus, the only one end for which we have now to try, is to quit thissettlement for ever, and get back to England. Anyhow! by any means! onlyto get back there, Mark.'
'That's all, sir,' returned Mr Tapley, with a significant stress uponthe words; 'only that!'
'Now, upon this side of the water,' said Martin, 'we have but one friendwho can help us, and that is Mr Bevan.'
'I thought of him when you was ill,' said Mark.
'But for the time that would be lost, I would even write to mygrandfather,' Martin went on to say, 'and implore him for money to freeus from this trap into which we were so cruelly decoyed. Shall I try MrBevan first?'
'He's a very pleasant sort of a gentleman,' said Mark. 'I think so.'
'The few goods we brought here, and in which we spent our money, wouldproduce something if sold,' resumed Martin; 'and whatever they realiseshall be paid him instantly. But they can't be sold here.'
'There's nobody but corpses to buy 'em,' said Mr Tapley, shaking hishead with a rueful air, 'and pigs.'
'Shall I tell him so, and only ask him for money enough to enable us bythe cheapest means to reach New York, or any port from which we may hopeto get a passage home, by serving in any capacity? Explaining to himat the same time how I am connected, and that I will endeavour torepay him, even through my grandfather, immediately on our arrival inEngland?'
'Why to be sure,' said Mark: 'he can only say no, and he may say yes. Ifyou don't mind trying him, sir--'
'Mind!' exclaimed Martin. 'I am to blame for coming here, and I would doanything to get away. I grieve to think of the past. If I had taken youropinion sooner, Mark, we never should have been here, I am certain.'
Mr Tapley was very much surprised at this admission, but protested, withgreat vehemence, that they would have been there all the same; and thathe had set his heart upon coming to Eden, from the first word he hadever heard of it.
Martin then read him a letter to Mr Bevan, which he had alreadyprepared. It was frankly and ingenuously written, and described theirsituation without the least concealment; plainly stated the miseriesthey had undergone; and preferred their request in modest butstraightforward terms. Mark highly commended it; and they determined todispatch it by the next steamboat going the right way, that might callto take in wood at Eden--where there was plenty of wood to spare.Not knowing how to address Mr Bevan at his own place of abode, Martinsuperscribed it to the care of the memorable Mr Norris of New York,and wrote upon the cover an entreaty that it might be forwarded withoutdelay.
More than a week elapsed before a boat appeared; but at length they wereawakened very early one morning by the high-pressure snorting ofthe 'Esau Slodge;' named after one of the most remarkable men in thecountry, who had been very eminent somewhere. Hurrying down to thelanding-place, they got it safe on board; and waiting anxiously to seethe boat depart, stopped up the gangway; an instance of neglect whichcaused the 'Capting' of the Esau Slodge to 'wish he might be sifted fineas flour, and whittled small as chips; that if they didn't come off thatthere fixing right smart too, he'd spill 'em in the drink;' whereby theCapting metaphorically said he'd throw them in the river.
They were not likely to receive an answer for eight or ten weeks at theearliest. In the meantime they devoted such strength as they had tothe attempted improvement of their land; to clearing some of it, andpreparing it for useful purposes. Monstrously defective as their farmingwas, still it was better than their neighbours'; for Mark had somepractical knowledge of such matters, and Martin learned of him; whereasthe other settlers who remained upon the putrid swamp (a mere handful,and those withered by disease), appeared to have wandered there withthe idea that husbandry was the natural gift of all mankind. They helpedeach other after their own manner in these struggles, and in all others;but they worked as hopelessly and sadly as a gang of convicts in a penalsettlement.
Often at night
when Mark and Martin were alone, and lying down to sleep,they spoke of home, familiar places, houses, roads, and people whom theyknew; sometimes in the lively hope of seeing them again, and sometimeswith a sorrowful tranquillity, as if that hope were dead. It was asource of great amazement to Mark Tapley to find, pervading all theseconversations, a singular alteration in Martin.
'I don't know what to make of him,' he thought one night, 'he ain't whatI supposed. He don't think of himself half as much. I'll try him again.Asleep, sir?'
'No, Mark.'
'Thinking of home, sir?'
'Yes, Mark.'
'So was I, sir. I was wondering how Mr Pinch and Mr Pecksniff gets onnow.'
'Poor Tom!' said Martin, thoughtfully.
'Weak-minded man, sir,' observed Mr Tapley. 'Plays the organ fornothing, sir. Takes no care of himself?'
'I wish he took a little more, indeed,' said Martin. 'Though I don'tknow why I should. We shouldn't like him half as well, perhaps.'
'He gets put upon, sir,' hinted Mark.
'Yes!' said Martin, after a short silence. 'I know that, Mark.'
He spoke so regretfully that his partner abandoned the theme, and wassilent for a short time until he had thought of another.
'Ah, sir!' said Mark, with a sigh. 'Dear me! You've ventured a good dealfor a young lady's love!'
'I tell you what. I'm not so sure of that, Mark,' was the reply; sohastily and energetically spoken, that Martin sat up in his bed to giveit. 'I begin to be far from clear upon it. You may depend upon it she isvery unhappy. She has sacrificed her peace of mind; she has endangeredher interests very much; she can't run away from those who are jealousof her, and opposed to her, as I have done. She has to endure, Mark; toendure without the possibility of action, poor girl! I begin to thinkthat she has more to bear than ever I had. Upon my soul I do!'
Mr Tapley opened his eyes wide in the dark; but did not interrupt.
'And I'll tell you a secret, Mark,' said Martin, 'since we ARE upon thissubject. That ring--'
'Which ring, sir?' Mark inquired, opening his eyes still wider.
'That ring she gave me when we parted, Mark. She bought it; bought it;knowing I was poor and proud (Heaven help me! Proud!) and wanted money.'
'Who says so, sir?' asked Mark.
'I say so. I know it. I thought of it, my good fellow, hundreds oftimes, while you were lying ill. And like a beast, I took it from herhand, and wore it on my own, and never dreamed of this even at themoment when I parted with it, when some faint glimmering of the truthmight surely have possessed me! But it's late,' said Martin, checkinghimself, 'and you are weak and tired, I know. You only talk to cheer meup. Good night! God bless you, Mark!'
'God bless you, sir! But I'm reg'larly defrauded,' thought Mr Tapley,turning round with a happy face. 'It's a swindle. I never entered forthis sort of service. There'll be no credit in being jolly with HIM!'
The time wore on, and other steamboats coming from the point on whichtheir hopes were fixed, arrived to take in wood; but still no answerto the letter. Rain, heat, foul slime, and noxious vapour, with all theills and filthy things they bred, prevailed. The earth, the air, thevegetation, and the water that they drank, all teemed with deadlyproperties. Their fellow-passenger had lost two children long before;and buried now her last. Such things are much too common to be widelyknown or cared for. Smart citizens grow rich, and friendless victimssmart and die, and are forgotten. That is all.
At last a boat came panting up the ugly river, and stopped at Eden. Markwas waiting at the wood hut when it came, and had a letter handed tohim from on board. He bore it off to Martin. They looked at one another,trembling.
'It feels heavy,' faltered Martin. And opening it a little roll ofdollar-notes fell out upon the ground.
What either of them said, or did, or felt, at first, neither of themknew. All Mark could ever tell was, that he was at the river's bankagain out of breath, before the boat had gone, inquiring when it wouldretrace its track and put in there.
The answer was, in ten or twelve days; notwithstanding which they beganto get their goods together and to tie them up that very night. Whenthis stage of excitement was passed, each of them believed (they foundthis out, in talking of it afterwards) that he would surely die beforethe boat returned.
They lived, however, and it came, after the lapse of three long crawlingweeks. At sunrise, on an autumn day, they stood upon her deck.
'Courage! We shall meet again!' cried Martin, waving his hand to twothin figures on the bank. 'In the Old World!'
'Or in the next one,' added Mark below his breath. 'To see them standingside by side, so quiet, is a'most the worst of all!'
They looked at one another as the vessel moved away, and then lookedbackward at the spot from which it hurried fast. The log-house, with theopen door, and drooping trees about it; the stagnant morning mist, andred sun, dimly seen beyond; the vapour rising up from land and river;the quick stream making the loathsome banks it washed more flat anddull; how often they returned in dreams! How often it was happiness towake and find them Shadows that had vanished!