Richard Carvel — Complete

  CHAPTER XXX. A CONSPIRACY

  "Banks, where is the captain?" I asked, as I entered the parlour thenext morning.

  "Gone, sir, since seven o'clock," was the reply. "Gone!" I exclaimed;"gone where?"

  "Faith, I did not ask his honour, sir."

  I thought it strange, but reflected that John Paul was given to whims.Having so little time before him, he had probably gone to see the sightshe had missed yesterday: the Pantheon, which was building, an accountof which had appeared in all the colonial papers; or the new BlackfriarsBridge; or the Tower; or perhaps to see his Majesty ride out. Thewonders of London might go hang, for all I cared. Who would gaze at theKing when he might look upon Dorothy! I sighed. I bade Banks dress me inthe new suit Davenport had brought that morning, and then sent him offto seek the shipping agent of the Virginia packet to get us a cabin. Iwould go to Arlington Street as soon as propriety admitted.

  But I had scarce finished my chocolate and begun to smoke in a pleasantrevery, when I was startled by the arrival of two gentlemen. One wasComyn, and the other none less than Mr. Charles Fox.

  "Now where the devil has your captain flown to?" said my Lord, tossinghis whip on the table.

  "I believe he must be sight-seeing," I said. "I dare swear he has takena hackney coach to the Tower."

  "To see the liberation of the idol of the people, I'll lay ten guineas.But they say the great Mr. Wilkes is to come out quietly, and wishes nodemonstration," said Mr. Fox. "I believe the beggar has some sense,if the--Greek--would only let him have his way. So your captain is aWilkite, Mr. Carvel?" he demanded.

  "I fear you run very fast to conclusions, Mr. Fox," I answered,laughing, tho' I thought his guess was not far from wrong.

  "I'll lay you the ten guineas he has been to the Tower," said Mr. Fox,promptly.

  "Done, sir," said I.

  "Hark ye, Richard," said Comyn, stretching himself in an arm-chair; "weare come to take the wind out of your sails, and leave you without anexcuse for going home. And we want your captain, alive or dead. Charles,here, is to give him a commission in his Majesty's Navy."

  Then I knew why Dorothy had laughed when I had spoken of seeing heragain. Comyn--bless him!--had told her of his little scheme.

  "Egad, Charles!" cried his Lordship, "to look at his glum face, onemight think we were a couple of Jews who had cornered him."

  Alas for the perversity of the heart! Instead of leaping for joy, asno doubt they had both confidently expected, I was both troubled andperplexed by this unlooked-for news. Oak, when bent, is even harderto bend back again. And so it has ever been with me. I had determined,after a bitter struggle, to go to Maryland, and had now become usedto that prospect. I was anxious to see my grandfather, and to confrontGrafton Carvel with his villany. And there was John Paul. What would hethink?

  "What ails you, Richard?" Comyn demanded somewhat testily.

  "Nothing, Jack," I replied. "I thank you from my heart, and you, Mr.Fox. I know that commissions are not to be had for the asking, and Irejoice with the captain over his good fortune. But, gentlemen," Isaid soberly, "I had most selfishly hoped that I might be able to doa service to John Paul in return for his charity to me. You offer himsomething nearer his deserts, something beyond my power to give him."

  Fox's eyes kindled.

  "You speak like a man, Mr. Carvel," said he. "But you are too modest.Damn it, sir, don't you see that it is you, and no one else, who hasprocured this commission? Had I not been taken with you, sir, I shouldscarce have promised it to your friend Comyn, through whose interest youobtain it for your protege."

  I remembered what Mr. Fox's enemies said of him, and smiled at theplausible twist he had given the facts.

  "No," I said; "no, Mr. Fox; never that. The captain must not think thatI wish to be rid of him. I will not stand in the way, though if it isto be offered him, he must comprehend that I had naught to do with thematter. But, sir," I continued curiously, "what do you know of JohnPaul's abilities as an officer?"

  Mr. Fox and Comyn laughed so immoderately as to bring the blood to myface.

  "Damme!" cried the Junior Lord, "but you Americans have odd consciences!Do you suppose Rigby was appointed Paymaster of the Forces becauseof his fitness? Why was North himself made Prime Minister? For hisabilities?" And he broke down again. "Ask Jack, here, how he got intothe service, and how much seamanship he knows."

  "Faith," answered Jack, unblushingly, "Admiral Lord Comyn, my father,wished me to serve awhile. And so I have taken two cruises, deliveredsome score of commands, and scarce know a supple jack from a can offlip. Cursed if I see the fun of it in these piping times o' peace, so Ihave given it up, Richard. For Charles says this Falkland business withSpain will blow out of the touch-hole."

  I could see little to laugh over. For the very rottenness of the servicewas due to the miserable and servile Ministry and Parliament of hisMajesty, by means of which instruments he was forcing the colonies tothe wall. Verily, that was a time when the greatness of England hungin the balance! How little I suspected that the young man then seatedbeside me, who had cast so unthinkingly his mighty powers on the side ofcorruption, was to be one of the chief instruments of her salvation! Wewere to fight George the Third across the seas. He was to wage no lesscourageous a battle at home, in the King's own capital. And the cause?Yes, the cause was to be the same as that of the Mr. Wilkes he reviled,who obtained his liberty that day.

  At length John Paul came in, calling my name. He broke off abruptly atsight of the visitors.

  "Now we shall decide," said Mr. Fox. "Captain, I have bet Mr. Carvel tenguineas you have been to the Tower to see Squinting Jack (John Wilkes)get his liberty at last."

  The captain looked astonished.

  "Anan, then, you have lost, Richard," said he. "For I have been justthere."

  "And helped, no doubt, to carry off the champion on your shoulders,"said Mr. Fox, sarcastically, as I paid the debt.

  "Mr. Wilkes knows full well the value of moderation, sir," replied thecaptain, in the same tone.

  "Well, damn the odds!" exclaimed the Junior Lord, laughing. "You mayhave the magic number tattooed all over your back, for all I care. Youshall have the commission."

  "The commission?"

  "Yes," said Fox, carelessly; "I intend making you a lieutenant, sir, inthe Royal Navy."

  The moment the words were out I was a-tremble as to how he would takethe offer. For he had a certain puzzling pride, which flew hither andthither. But there was surely no comparison between the situations ofthe master of the Belle of the Wye and an officer in the Royal Navy.There, his talents would make him an admiral, and doubtless give him thesocial position he secretly coveted. He confounded us all by his answer.

  "I thank you, Mr. Fox. But I cannot accept your kindness."

  "Slife!" said Fox, "you refuse? And you know what you are doing?"

  "I know usually, sir."

  Comyn swore. My exclamation had something of relief in it.

  "Captain," I said, "I felt that I could not stand in the way of this.It has been my hope that you will come with me, and I have sent thismorning after a cabin on the Virginia. You must know that Mr. Fox'soffer is his own, and Lord Comyn's."

  "I know it well, Richard. I have not lived these three months with youfor nothing." His voice seemed to fail him. He drew near me and took myhand. "But did you think I would require of you the sacrifice of leavingLondon now?"

  "It is my pleasure as well as my duty, captain."

  "No," he said, "I am not like that. Yesterday I went to the city to seea shipowner whose acquaintance I made when he was a master in the WestIndia trade. He has had some reason to know that I can handle a ship.Never mind what. And he has given me the bark 'Betsy', whose formermaster is lately dead of the small-pox. Richard, I sail to-morrow."

  In Dorothy's coach to Whitehall Stairs, by the grim old palace out ofwhose window Charles the Martyr had walked to his death. For Dorothy hadvowed it was her pleasure to see John Paul off, and who could standin her
way? Surely not Mr. Marmaduke! and Mrs. Manners laughinglyacquiesced. Our spirits were such that we might have been some honestmercer's apprentice and his sweetheart away for an outing.

  "If we should take a wherry, Richard," said Dolly, "who would know ofit? I have longed to be in a wherry ever since I came to London."

  The river was smiling as she tripped gayly down to the water, and thered-coated watermen were smiling, too, and nudging one another. Butlittle cared we! Dolly in holiday humour stopped for naught. "Boat, yourhonour! Boat, boat! To Rotherhithe--Redriff? Two and six apiece, sir."For that intricate puzzle called human nature was solved out of hand bythe Thames watermen. Here was a young gentleman who never heard of theLord Mayor's scale of charges. And what was a shilling to such as he!Intricate puzzle, indeed! Any booby might have read upon the young man'sface that secret which is written for all,--high and low, rich and pooralike.

  My new lace handkerchief was down upon the seat, lest Dolly soil herbright pink lutestring. She should have worn nothing else but the hue ofroses. How the bargemen stared, and the passengers craned their necks,and the longshoremen stopped their work as we shot past them! On heraccount a barrister on the Temple Stairs was near to letting fallhis bag in the water. A lady in a wherry! Where were the whims of thequality to lead them next? Past the tall water-tower and York Stairs,the idlers under the straight row of trees leaning over the high riverwall; past Adelphi Terrace, where the great Garrick lived; past thewhite columns of Somerset House, with its courts and fountains andalleys and architecture of all ages, and its river gate where many agilded royal barge had lain, and many a fine ambassador had arrived instate over the great highway of England; past the ancient trees in theTemple Gardens. And then under the new Blackfriars Bridge to Southwark,dingy with its docks and breweries and huddled houses, but foreverfamous,--the Southwark of Shakespeare and Jonson and Beaumont andFletcher. And the shelf upon which they stood in the library at CarvelHall was before my eyes.

  "Yes," said Dolly; "and I recall your mother's name written in faded inkupon the fly-leaves."

  Ah, London Town, by what subtleties are you tied to the hearts of thoseborn across the sea? That is one of the mysteries of race.

  Under the pointed arches of old London Bridge, with its hooded sheltersfor the weary, to where the massive Tower had frowned for ages upon thefoolish river. And then the forest of ships, and the officious throng oflittle wherries and lighters that pressed around them, seeming to say,"You clumsy giants, how helpless would you be without us!" Soon our ownwherry was dodging among them, ships brought hither by the four windsof the seas; many discharging in the stream, some in the docks thenbeginning to be built, and hugging the huge warehouses. Hides fromfrozen Russia were piled high beside barrels of sugar and rum from themoist island cane-fields of the Indies, and pipes of wine from the sunnyhillsides of France, and big boxes of tea bearing the hall-mark of themysterious East. Dolly gazed in wonder. And I was commanded to show hera schooner like the Black Moll, and a brigantine like the John.

  "And Captain Paul told me you climbed the masts, Richard, and workedlike a common seaman. Tell me," says she, pointing at the royal yard ofa tall East Indiaman, "did you go as high as that when it was rough?"

  And, hugely to the boatman's delight, the minx must needs put herfingers on the hard welts on my hands, and vow she would be a sailorand she were a man. But at length we came to a trim-built bark lying offRedriff Stairs, with the words "Betsy, of London," painted across herstern. In no time at all, Captain Paul was down the gangway ladder andat the water-side, too hand Dorothy out.

  "This honour overwhelms me, Miss Manners," he said; "but I know whom tothank for it." And he glanced slyly at me.

  Dorothy stepped aboard with the air of Queen Elizabeth come to inspectLord Howard's flagship.

  "Then you will thank me," said she. "Why, I could eat my dinner off yourdeck, captain! Are all merchantmen so clean?"

  John Paul smiled.

  "Not all, Miss Manners," he said.

  "And you are still sailing at the ebb?" I asked.

  "In an hour, Richard, if the wind holds good."

  With what pride he showed us over his ship, the sailors gaping at thefine young lady. It had taken him just a day to institute his navydiscipline. And Dolly went about exclaiming, and asking an hundredquestions, and merrily catechising me upon the run of the ropes. All wasorder and readiness for dropping down the stream when he led us intohis cabin, where he had a bottle of wine and some refreshments laid outagainst my coming.

  "Had I presumed to anticipate your visit, Miss Manners, I should havehad something more suitable for a lady," he said. "What, you will noteat, either, Richard?"

  I could not, so downcast had I become at the thought of parting. Ihad sat up half the night before with him in restless argument andindecision, and even when he had left for Rotherhithe, early thatmorning, my mind had not been made. My conscience had insisted that Ishould sail with John Paul; that I might never see my deaf grandfatheron earth again. I had gone to Arlington Street that morning resolved tosay farewell to Dorothy. I will not recount the history of that defeat,my dears. Nay, to this day I know not how she accomplished the matter.Not once had she asked me to remain, or referred to my going. Nor hadI spoken of it, weakling that I was. She had come down in the pinklutestring, smiling but pale; and traces of tears in her eyes, Ithought. From that moment I knew that I was defeated. It was she herselfwho had proposed going with me to see the Betsy sail.

  "I will drink some Madeira to wish you Godspeed, captain," I said.

  "What is the matter with you, Richard?" Dolly cried; "you are as souras my Lord Sandwich after a bad Newmarket. Why, captain," said she, "Ireally believe he wants to go, too. The swain pines for his provincialbeauty."

  Poor John Paul! He had not yet learned that good society is seldomliteral.

  "Upon my soul, Miss Manners, there you do him wrong," he retorted, withludicrous heat; "you, above all, should know for whom he pines."

  "He has misled you by praising me. This Richard, despite his frankexterior, is most secretive."

  "There you have hit him, Miss Manners," he declared; "there you have hithim! We were together night and day, on the sea and on the road, and,while I poured out my life to him, the rogue never once let fall a hintof the divine Miss Dorothy. 'Twas not till I got to London that I knewof her existence, and then only by a chance. You astonish me. You speakof a young lady in Maryland?"

  Dorothy swept aside my protest.

  "Captain," says she, gravely, "I leave you to judge. What is yourinference, when he fights a duel about a Miss with my Lord Comyn?"

  "A duel!" cried the captain, astounded.

  "Miss Manners persists in her view of the affair, despite my word to thecontrary," I put in rather coldly.

  "But a duel!" cried the captain again; "and with Lord Comyn! MissManners, I fondly thought I had discovered a constant man, but you makeme fear he has had as many flames as I. And yet, Richard," he addedmeaningly, "I should think shame on my conduct and I had had such asubject for constancy as you."

  Dorothy's armour was pierced, and my ill-humour broken down, by thischaracteristic speech. We both laughed, greatly to his discomfiture.

  "You had best go home with him, Richard," said Dolly. "I can find my wayback to Arlington Street alone."

  "Nay; gallantry forbids his going with me now," answered John Paul; "andI have my sailing orders. But had I known of this, I should never havewasted my breath in persuading him to remain."

  "And did he stand in need of much persuasion, captain?" asked Dolly,archly.

  Time was pressing, and the owner came aboard, puffing,--a round-faced,vociferous, jolly merchant, who had no sooner got his breath than helost it again upon catching sight of Dolly.

  While the captain was giving the mate his final orders, Mr. Orchardson,for such was his name, regaled us with a part of his life's history. Hehad been a master himself, and mangled and clipped King George's Englishas only a true master might.
r />   "I like your own captain better than ever, Richard," whispered Dolly,while Mr. Orchardson relieved himself of his quid over the other side;"how commanding he is! Were I to take passage in the Betsy, I know Ishould be in love with him long before we got to Norfolk."

  I took it upon myself to tell Mr. Orchardson, briefly and clearly as Icould, the lamentable story of John Paul's last cruise. For I feared itmight sooner or later reach his ears from prejudiced mouths. And I endedby relating how the captain had refused a commission in the navy becausehe had promised to take the Betsy. This appeared vastly to impress him,and he forgot Dorothy's presence.

  "Passion o' my 'eart, Mr. Carvel," cried he, excitedly,

  "John Paul's too big a man, an' too good a seaman, to go into the navywithout hinflooence. If flag horfocers I roots of is booted haside torankle like a lump o' salt butter in a gallipot, 'ow will a poor Scotchlieutenant win hadvancement an' he be not o' the King's friends? 'Wilkesan' Liberty,' say I; 'forever,' say I. An' w'en I see 'im goin' to theTower to be'old the Champion, 'Captain Paul,' says I, 'yere a man arftermy hown 'eart.' My heye, sir, didn't I see 'im, w'n a mere lad, take theJohn into Kingston 'arbour in the face o' the worst gale I hever seedblowed in the Caribbees? An' I says, 'Bill Horchardson, an' ye Never'ave ships o' yere own, w'ich I 'ope will be, y'ell know were to lookfor a marster.' An' I tells 'im that same, Mr. Carvel. I means nodisrespect to the dead, sir, but an' John Paul 'ad discharged the Betsy,I'd not 'a' been out twenty barrels or more this day by Thames mudlarksan' scuffle hunters. 'Eave me flat, if 'e'll be two blocks wi' liquoran' dischargin' cargo. An' ye may rest heasy, Mr. Carvel, I'll not dowrong by 'im, neither."

  He told me that if I would honour him in Maid Lane, Southwark, I shouldhave as many pounds as I liked of the best tobacco ever cured in Cuba.And so he left me to see that the mate had signed all his lighter bills,shouting to the captain not to forget his cockets at Gravesend. Dollyand I stood silent while the men hove short, singing a jolly song tothe step. With a friendly wave the round figure of Mr. Orchardsondisappeared over the side, and I knew that the time had come to sayfarewell. I fumbled in my waistcoat for the repeater I had bought thatmorning over against Temple Bar, in Fleet Street, and I thrust it intoJohn Paul's hand as he came up.

  "Take this in remembrance of what you have suffered so unselfishly formy sake, Captain Paul," I said, my voice breaking. "And whatever befallsyou, do not forget that Carvel Hall is your home as well as mine."

  He seemed as greatly affected as was I. Tears forced themselves to hiseyes as he held the watch, which he opened absently to read the simpleinscription I had put there.

  "Oh, Dickie lad!" he cried, "I'll be missing ye sair three hourshence, and thinking of ye for months to come in the night watches. Butsomething tells me I'll see ye again."

  And he took me in his arms, embracing me with such fervour that therewas no doubting the sincerity of his feelings.

  "Miss Dorothy," said he, when he was calmer, "I give ye Richard for aleal and a true heart. Few men are born with the gift of keeping theaffections warm despite absence, and years, and interest. But have nofear of Richard Carvel."

  Dorothy stood a little apart, watching us, her eyes that faraway blue ofthe deepening skies at twilight.

  "Indeed, I have no fear of him, captain," she said gently. Then, with aquick movement, impulsive and womanly, she unpinned a little gold broochat her throat, and gave it to him, saying: "In token of my gratitude forbringing him back to us."

  John Paul raised it to his lips.

  "I shall treasure it, Miss Manners, as a memento of the greatest joy ofmy life. And that has been," gracefully taking her hand and mine, "thebringing you two together again."

  Dorothy grew scarlet as she curtseyed. As for me, I could speak never aword. He stepped over the side to hand her into the wherry, and embracedme once again. And as we rowed away he waved his hat in a last good-byfrom the taffrail. Then the Betsy floated down the Thames.