CHAPTER I.
A WATCH-DOG MAY BE A GUARDIAN ANGEL.
Gwynplaine uttered a cry.
"Is that you, wolf?"
Homo wagged his tail. His eyes sparkled in the darkness. He was lookingearnestly at Gwynplaine.
Then he began to lick his hands again. For a moment Gwynplaine was likea drunken man, so great is the shock of Hope's mighty return.
Homo! What an apparition! During the last forty-eight hours he hadexhausted what might be termed every variety of the thunder-bolt. Butone was left to strike him--the thunderbolt of joy. And it had justfallen upon him. Certainty, or at least the light which leads to it,regained; the sudden intervention of some mysterious clemency possessed,perhaps, by destiny; life saying, "Behold me!" in the darkest recess ofthe grave; the very moment in which all expectation has ceased bringingback health and deliverance; a place of safety discovered at the mostcritical instant in the midst of crumbling ruins--Homo was all this toGwynplaine. The wolf appeared to him in a halo of light.
Meanwhile, Homo had turned round. He advanced a few steps, and thenlooked back to see if Gwynplaine was following him.
Gwynplaine was doing so. Homo wagged his tail, and went on.
The road taken by the wolf was the slope of the quay of theEffroc-stone. This slope shelved down to the Thames; and Gwynplaine,guided by Homo, descended it.
Homo turned his head now and then, to make sure that Gwynplaine wasbehind him.
In some situations of supreme importance nothing approaches so near anomniscient intelligence as the simple instinct of a faithful animal. Ananimal is a lucid somnambulist.
There are cases in which the dog feels that he should follow his master;others, in which he should precede him. Then the animal takes thedirection of sense. His imperturbable scent is a confused power ofvision in what is twilight to us. He feels a vague obligation to becomea guide. Does he know that there is a dangerous pass, and that he canhelp his master to surmount it? Probably not. Perhaps he does. In anycase, some one knows it for him. As we have already said, it oftenhappens in life that some mighty help which we have held to have comefrom below has, in reality, come from above. Who knows all themysterious forms assumed by God?
What was this animal? Providence.
Having reached the river, the wolf led down the narrow tongue of landwhich bordered the Thames.
Without noise or bark he pushed forward on his silent way. Homo alwaysfollowed his instinct and did his duty, but with the pensive reserve ofan outlaw.
Some fifty paces more, and he stopped. A wooden platform appeared on theright. At the bottom of this platform, which was a kind of wharf onpiles, a black mass could be made out, which was a tolerably largevessel. On the deck of the vessel, near the prow, was a glimmer, likethe last flicker of a night-light.
The wolf, having finally assured himself that Gwynplaine was there,bounded on to the wharf. It was a long platform, floored and tarred,supported by a network of joists, and under which flowed the river. Homoand Gwynplaine shortly reached the brink.
The ship moored to the wharf was a Dutch vessel, of the Japanese build,with two decks, fore and aft, and between them an open hold, reached byan upright ladder, in which the cargo was laden. There was thus aforecastle and an afterdeck, as in our old river boats, and a spacebetween them ballasted by the freight. The paper boats made by childrenare of a somewhat similar shape. Under the decks were the cabins, thedoors of which opened into the hold and were lighted by glazedportholes. In stowing the cargo a passage was left between the packagesof which it consisted. These vessels had a mast on each deck. Theforemast was called Paul, the mainmast Peter--the ship being sailed bythese two masts, as the Church was guided by her two apostles. A gangwaywas thrown, like a Chinese bridge, from one deck to the other, over thecentre of the hold. In bad weather, both flaps of the gangway werelowered, on the right and left, on hinges, thus making a roof over thehold; so that the ship, in heavy seas, was hermetically closed. Thesesloops, being of very massive construction, had a beam for a tiller, thestrength of the rudder being necessarily proportioned to the height ofthe vessel. Three men, the skipper and two sailors, with a cabin-boy,sufficed to navigate these ponderous sea-going machines. The decks, foreand aft, were, as we have already said, without bulwarks. The greatlumbering hull of this particular vessel was painted black, and on it,visible even in the night, stood out, in white letters, the words,_Vograat, Rotterdam_.
About that time many events had occurred at sea, and amongst others, thedefeat of the Baron de Pointi's eight ships off Cape Carnero, which haddriven the whole French fleet into refuge at Gibraltar; so that theChannel was swept of every man-of-war, and merchant vessels were able tosail backwards and forwards between London and Rotterdam, without aconvoy.
The vessel on which was to be read the word _Vograat_, and whichGwynplaine was now close to, lay with her main-deck almost level withthe wharf. But one step to descend, and Homo in a bound, and Gwynplainein a stride, were on board.
The deck was clear, and no stir was perceptible. The passengers, if, aswas likely, there were any, were already on board, the vessel beingready to sail, and the cargo stowed, as was apparent from the state ofthe hold, which was full of bales and cases. But they were, doubtless,lying asleep in the cabins below, as the passage was to take placeduring the night. In such cases the passengers do not appear on decktill they awake the following morning. As for the crew, they wereprobably having their supper in the men's cabin, whilst awaiting thehour fixed for sailing, which was now rapidly approaching. Hence thesilence on the two decks connected by the gangway.
The wolf had almost run across the wharf; once on board, he slackenedhis pace into a discreet walk. He still wagged his tail--no longerjoyfully, however, but with the sad and feeble wag of a dog troubled inhis mind. Still preceding Gwynplaine, he passed along the after-deck,and across the gangway.
Gwynplaine, having reached the gangway, perceived a light in front ofhim. It was the same that he had seen from the shore. There was alantern on the deck, close to the foremast, by the gleam of which wassketched in black, on the dim background of the night, what Gwynplainerecognized to be Ursus's old four-wheeled van.
This poor wooden tenement, cart and hut combined, in which his childhoodhad rolled along, was fastened to the bottom of the mast by thick ropes,of which the knots were visible at the wheels. Having been so long outof service, it had become dreadfully rickety; it leant over feebly onone side; it had become quite paralytic from disuse; and, moreover, itwas suffering from that incurable malady--old age. Mouldy and out ofshape, it tottered in decay. The materials of which it was built wereall rotten. The iron was rusty, the leather torn, the wood-workworm-eaten. There were lines of cracks across the window in front,through which shone a ray from the lantern. The wheels were warped. Thelining, the floor, and the axletrees seemed worn out with fatigue.Altogether, it presented an indescribable appearance of beggary andprostration. The shafts, stuck up, looked like two arms raised toheaven. The whole thing was in a state of dislocation. Beneath it washanging Homo's chain.
Does it not seem that the law and the will of nature would have dictatedGwynplaine's headlong rush to throw himself upon life, happiness, loveregained? So they would, except in some case of deep terror such as his.But he who comes forth, shattered in nerve and uncertain of his way,from a series of catastrophes, each one like a fresh betrayal, isprudent even in his joy; hesitates, lest he should bear the fatality ofwhich he has been the victim to those whom he loves; feels that someevil contagion may still hang about him, and advances towards happinesswith wary steps. The gates of Paradise reopen; but before he enters heexamines his ground.
Gwynplaine, staggering under the weight of his emotion, looked aroundhim, while the wolf went and lay down silently by his chain.