Our family was a family of governesses. My mother had been one, andmy sisters had the same occupation. Consequently, when, at the age ofthirteen, my eldest sister handed me the advertisement of Mr.Rawjester, clipped from that day's "Times," I accepted it as my destiny.Nevertheless, a mysterious presentiment of an indefinite future hauntedme in my dreams that night, as I lay upon my little snow-white bed. Thenext morning, with two band-boxes tied up in silk handkerchiefs, and ahair trunk, I turned my back upon Minerva Cottage forever.
CHAPTER II
Blunderbore Hall, the seat of James Rawjester, Esq., was encompassed bydark pines and funereal hemlocks on all sides. The wind sang weirdly inthe turrets and moaned through the long-drawn avenues of the park. AsI approached the house I saw several mysterious figures flit beforethe windows, and a yell of demoniac laughter answered my summons at thebell. While I strove to repress my gloomy forebodings, the housekeeper,a timid, scared-looking old woman, showed me into the library.
I entered, overcome with conflicting emotions. I was dressed in a narrowgown of dark serge, trimmed with black bugles. A thick green shawl waspinned across my breast. My hands were encased with black half-mittensworked with steel beads; on my feet were large pattens, originally theproperty of my deceased grandmother. I carried a blue cotton umbrella.As I passed before a mirror I could not help glancing at it, nor could Idisguise from myself the fact that I was not handsome.
Drawing a chair into a recess, I sat down with folded hands, calmlyawaiting the arrival of my master. Once or twice a fearful yell rangthrough the house, or the rattling of chains, and curses uttered in adeep, manly voice, broke upon the oppressive stillness. I began to feelmy soul rising with the emergency of the moment. "You look alarmed,miss. You don't hear anything, my dear, do you?" asked the housekeepernervously.
"Nothing whatever," I remarked calmly, as a terrific scream, followedby the dragging of chairs and tables in the room above, drowned for amoment my reply. "It is the silence, on the contrary, which has made mefoolishly nervous."
The housekeeper looked at me approvingly, and instantly made some teafor me.
I drank seven cups; as I was beginning the eighth, I heard a crash, andthe next moment a man leaped into the room through the broken window.
CHAPTER III
The crash startled me from my self-control. The housekeeper bent towardme and whispered,--
"Don't be excited. It's Mr. Rawjester,--he prefers to come in sometimesin this way. It's his playfulness, ha! ha! ha!"
"I perceive," I said calmly. "It's the unfettered impulse of a loftysoul breaking the tyrannizing bonds of custom." And I turned toward him.
He had never once looked at me. He stood with his back to the fire,which set off the herculean breadth of his shoulders. His face was darkand expressive; his under jaw squarely formed, and remarkably heavy. Iwas struck with his remarkable likeness to a gorilla.
As he absently tied the poker into hard knots with his nervous fingers,I watched him with some interest. Suddenly he turned toward me:--
"Do you think I'm handsome, young woman?"
"Not classically beautiful," I returned calmly; "but you have, if Imay so express myself, an abstract manliness,--a sincere and wholesomebarbarity which, involving as it does the naturalness"--But I stopped,for he yawned at that moment,--an action which singularly developedthe immense breadth of his lower jaw,--and I saw he had forgotten me.Presently he turned to the houskeeper,--
"Leave us."
The old woman withdrew with a curtsey.
Mr. Rawjester deliberately turned his back upon me and remained silentfor twenty minutes. I drew my shawl the more closely around my shouldersand closed my eyes.
"You are the governess?" at length he said.
"I am, sir."
"A creature who teaches geography, arithmetic, and the use of theglobes--ha!--a wretched remnant of femininity,--a skimp pattern ofgirlhood with a premature flavor of tea-leaves and morality. Ugh!"
I bowed my head silently.
"Listen to me, girl!" he said sternly; "this child you have cometo teach--my ward--is not legitimate. She is the offspring of mymistress,--a common harlot. Ah! Miss Mix, what do you think of me now?"
"I admire," I replied calmly, "your sincerity. A mawkish regard fordelicacy might have kept this disclosure to yourself. I only recognizein your frankness that perfect community of thought and sentiment whichshould exist between original natures." I looked up; he had alreadyforgotten my presence, and was engaged in pulling off his boots andcoat. This done, he sank down in an armchair before the fire, and ranthe poker wearily through his hair. I could not help pitying him.
The wind howled dismally without, and the rain beat furiously againstthe windows. I crept toward him and seated myself on a low stool besidehis chair.
Presently he turned, without seeing me, and placed his foot absently inmy lap. I affected not to notice it. But he started and looked down.
"You here yet--Carrothead? Ah, I forgot. Do you speak French?"
"Oui, Monsier."
"Taisez-vous!" he said sharply, with singular purity of accent. Icomplied. The wind moaned fearfully in the chimney, and the light burneddimly. I shuddered in spite of myself. "Ah, you tremble, girl!"
"It is a fearful night."
"Fearful! Call you this fearful? Ha! ha! ha! Look! you wretched littleatom, look!" and he dashed forward, and, leaping out of the window,stood like a statue in the pelting storm, with folded arms. He did notstay long, but in a few minutes returned by way of the hall chimney. Isaw from the way that he wiped his feet on my dress that he had againforgotten my presence.
"You are a governess. What can you teach?" he asked, suddenly andfiercely thrusting his face in mine.
"Manners!" I replied calmly.
"Ha! teach _me!_"
"You mistake yourself," I said, adjusting my mittens. "Your mannersrequire not the artificial restraint of society. You are radicallypolite; this impetuosity and ferociousness is simply the sincerity whichis the basis of a proper deportment. Your instincts are moral; yourbetter nature, I see, is religious. As St. Paul justly remarks--seechap. 6, 8, 9, and 10 "--
He seized a heavy candlestick, and threw it at me. I dodged itsubmissively but firmly.
"Excuse me," he remarked, as his under jaw slowly relaxed. "Excuse me,Miss Mix--but I can't stand St. Paul! Enough--you are engaged."
CHAPTER IV
I followed the housekeeper as she led the way timidly to my room. As wepassed into a dark hall in the wing, I noticed that it was closed byan iron gate with a grating. Three of the doors on the corridor werelikewise grated. A strange noise, as of shuffling feet and the howlingof infuriated animals, rang through the hall. Bidding the housekeepergood-night, and taking the candle, I entered my bedchamber.
I took off my dress, and putting on a yellow flannel nightgown, whichI could not help feeling did not agree with my complexion, I composedmyself to rest by reading Blair's "Rhetoric" and Paley's "MoralPhilosophy." I had just put out the light, when I heard voices in thecorridor. I listened attentively. I recognized Mr. Rawjester's sterntones.
"Have you fed No. One?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," said a gruff voice, apparently belonging to a domestic.
"How's No. Two?"
"She's a little off her feed, just now, but will pick up in a day ortwo."
"And No. Three?"
"Perfectly furious, sir. Her tantrums are ungovernable."
"Hush!"
The voices died away, and I sank into a fitful slumber.
I dreamed that I was wandering through a tropical forest. Suddenly I sawthe figure of a gorilla approaching me. As it neared me, I recognizedthe features of Mr. Rawjester. He held his hand to his side as if inpain. I saw that he had been wounded. He recognized me and called me byname, but at the same moment the vision changed to an Ashanteevillage, where, around the fire, a group of negroes were dancing andparticipating in some wild Obi festival. I awoke with the strain stillringing in my ears.
&n
bsp; "Hokee-pokee wokee fum!"
Good Heavens! could I be dreaming? I heard the voice distinctly on thefloor below, and smelt something burning. I arose, with an indistinctpresentiment of evil, and hastily putting some cotton in my ears andtying a towel about my head, I wrapped myself in a shawl and rusheddownstairs. The door of Mr. Rawjester's room was open. I entered.
Mr. Rawjester lay apparently in a deep slumber, from which even theclouds of smoke that came from the burning curtains of his bed couldnot rouse him. Around the room a large and powerful negress, scantilyattired, with her head adorned with feathers, was dancing wildly,accompanying herself with bone castanets. It looked like some terriblefetich.
I did not lose my calmness. After firmly emptying the pitcher, basin,and slop-jar on the burning bed, I proceeded cautiously to the garden,and returning with the garden engine, I directed a small stream at Mr.Rawjester.
At my entrance the gigantic negress fled. Mr. Rawjester yawned and woke.I explained to him, as he rose dripping from the bed, the reason of mypresence. He did not seem to be excited, alarmed, or discomposed. Hegazed at me curiously.
"So you risked your life to save mine, eh? you canary-colored teacher ofinfants."
I blushed modestly, and drew my shawl tightly over my yellow flannelnightgown.
"You love me, Mary Jane,--don't deny it! This trembling shows it!"He drew me closely toward him, and said, with his deep voice tenderlymodulated,--"How's her pooty tootens,--did she get her 'ittle tootenswet,--b'ess her?"
I understood his allusion to my feet. I glanced down and saw that inmy hurry I had put on a pair of his old india-rubbers. My feet were notsmall or pretty, and the addition did not add to their beauty.
"Let me go, sir," I remarked quietly. "This is entirely improper; itsets a bad example for your child." And I firmly but gently extricatedmyself from his grasp. I approached the door. He seemed for a momentburied in deep thought.
"You say this was a negress?"
"Yes, sir."
"Humph, Number One, I suppose."
"Who is Number One, sir?"
"My _first_," he remarked, with a significant and sarcastic smile. Then,relapsing into his old manner, he threw his boots at my head, and bademe begone. I withdrew calmly.
CHAPTER V
My pupil was a bright little girl, who spoke French with a perfectaccent. Her mother had been a "French ballet-dancer, which probablyaccounted for it. Although she was only six years old, it was easy toperceive that she had been several times in love. She once said to me,--
"Miss Mix, did you ever have the grande passion? Did you ever feel afluttering here?" and she placed her hand upon her small chest, andsighed quaintly; "a kind of distaste for bonbons and caramels, when theworld seemed as tasteless and hollow as a broken cordial drop?"
"Then you have felt it, Nina?" I said quietly.
"Oh, dear, yes. There was Buttons,--that was our page, you know,--Iloved him dearly, but papa sent him away. Then there was Dick, thegroom; but he laughed at me, and I suffered misery!" and she struck atragic French attitude. "There is to be company here to-morrow,"she added, rattling on with childish naivete, "and papa'ssweetheart--Blanche Marabout--is to be here. You know they say she is tobe my mamma."
What thrill was this shot through me? But I rose calmly, andadministering a slight correction to the child, left the apartment.
Blunderbore House, for the next week, was the scene of gayety andmerriment. That portion of the mansion closed with a grating was walledup, and the midnight shrieks no longer troubled me.
But I felt more keenly the degradation of my situation. I was obligedto help Lady Blanche at her toilet and help her to look beautiful. Forwhat? To captivate him? Oh--no, no,--but why this sudden thrill andfaintness? Did he really love her? I had seen him pinch and swear ather. But I reflected that he had thrown a candlestick at my head, and myfoolish heart was reassured.
It was a night of festivity, when a sudden message obliged Mr. Rawjesterto leave his guests for a few hours. "Make yourselves merry, idiots,"he added, under his breath, as he passed me. The door closed and he wasgone.
A half-hour passed. In the midst of the dancing a shriek was heard, andout of the swaying crowd of fainting women and excited men a wild figurestrode into the room. One glance showed it to be a highwayman, heavilyarmed, holding a pistol in each hand.
"Let no one pass out of this room!" he said, in a voice of thunder. "Thehouse is surrounded and you cannot escape. The first one who crossesyonder threshold will be shot like a dog. Gentlemen, I'll trouble you toapproach in single file, and hand me your purses and watches."
Finding resistance useless, the order was ungraciously obeyed.
"Now, ladies, please to pass up your jewelry and trinkets."
This order was still more ungraciously complied with. As Blanche handedto the bandit captain her bracelet, she endeavored to conceal a diamondnecklace, the gift of Mr. Rawjester, in her bosom. But, with a demoniacgrin, the powerful brute tore it from its concealment, and administeringa hearty box on the ear of the young girl, flung her aside.
It was now my turn. With a beating heart I made my way to the robberchieftain, and sank at his feet. "Oh, sir, I am nothing but a poorgoverness, pray let me go."
"Oho! A governess? Give me your last month's wages, then. Give me whatyou have stolen from your master!" and he laughed fiendishly.
I gazed at him quietly, and said, in a low voice: "I have stolen nothingfrom you, Mr. Rawjester!"
"Ah, discovered! Hush! listen, girl!" he hissed, in a fierce whisper;"utter a syllable to frustrate my plans, and you die; aid me, and"--Buthe was gone.
In a few moments the party, with the exception of myself, were gaggedand locked in the cellar. The next moment torches were applied to therich hangings, and the house was in flames. I felt a strong hand seizeme, and bear me out in the open air and place me up on the hillside,where I could overlook the burning mansion. It was Mr. Rawjester."Burn!" he said, as he shook his fist at the flames. Then sinking on hisknees before me, he said hurriedly,--
"Mary Jane, I love you; the obstacles to our union are or will be soonremoved. In yonder mansion were confined my three crazy wives. One ofthem, as you know, attempted to kill me! Ha! this is vengeance! But willyou be mine?"
I fell, without a word, upon his neck.
MR. MIDSHIPMAN BEEEZY
A NAVAL OFFICER
BY CAPTAIN M-RRY-T, R. N.
CHAPTER I
My father was a north-country surgeon. He had retired, a widower, fromher Majesty's navy many years before, and had a small practice in hisnative village. When I was seven years old he employed me to carrymedicines to his patients. Being of a lively disposition, I sometimesamused myself, during my daily rounds, by mixing the contents of thedifferent phials. Although I had no reason to doubt that the generalresult of this practice was beneficial, yet, as the death of aconsumptive curate followed the addition of a strong mercurial lotion tohis expectorant, my father concluded to withdraw me from the professionand send me to school.
Grubbins, the schoolmaster, was a tyrant, and it was not long before myimpetuous and self-willed nature rebelled against his authority. Isoon began to form plans of revenge. In this I was assisted by TomSnaffle,--a schoolfellow. One day Tom suggested,--
"Suppose we blow him up. I've got two pounds of powder!"
"No, that's too noisy," I replied.
Tom was silent for a minute, and again spoke:--
"You remember how you flattened out the curate, Pills? Couldn't you giveGrubbins something--something to make him leathery sick--eh?" A flashof inspiration crossed my mind. I went to the shop of the villageapothecary. He knew me; I had often purchased vitriol, which I pouredinto Grubbins's inkstand to corrode his pens and hum up his coat-tail,on which he was in the habit of wiping them. I boldly asked for an ounceof chloroform. The young apothecary winked and handed me the bottle.
It was Grubbins's custom to throw his handkerchief over his head,recline in his chair, and take a short
nap during recess. Watching myopportunity, as he dozed, I managed to slip his handkerchief from hisface and substitute my own, moistened with chloroform. In a few minuteshe was insensible. Tom and I then quickly shaved his head, beard, andeyebrows, blackened his face with a mixture of vitriol and burnt cork,and fled. There was a row and scandal the next day. My father alwaysexcused me by asserting that Grubbins had got drunk,--but somehow foundit convenient to procure me an appointment in her Majesty's navy at anearly day.
CHAPTER II
An official letter, with the Admiralty seal, informed me that I wasexpected to join H. M. ship Belcher, Captain Boltrope, at Portsmouth,without delay. In a few days I presented myself to a tall, stern-visagedman, who was slowly pacing the leeward side of the quarter-deck. As Itouched my hat he eyed me sternly:--
"So ho! Another young suckling. The service is going to the devil.Nothing but babes in the cockpit and grannies in the board. Boatswain'smate, pass the word for Mr. Cheek!"
Mr. Cheek, the steward, appeared and touched his hat.
"Introduce Mr. Breezy to the young gentlemen. Stop! Where's Mr.Swizzle?"