Ralph Denham's Adventures in Burma: A Tale of the Burmese Jungle

  CHAPTER IX

  NEWS FROM RALPH

  "Oh, that I had never allowed him to go!" wailed Mrs. Denham, themorning after the alarming telegram arrived, rocking herself to and froin her misery, tears streaming down her face. "My dear, dear boy! Hewent to help me, and this is the end of it. The best, the dearest, themost unselfish boy in the world! How can I bear it! how can I bear it!"

  But Agnes, when she recovered, showed much sense and strength of mind.

  "Mother," said she, "it only says that the boat is missing, it does notsay it is lost. Those seas are full of vessels, please God some ship haspicked them up, and dear Ralph is safe yet. Do not despair, God isgood."

  "You are my only comfort, Agnes," sobbed Mrs. Denham; "but, oh, if I hadonly refused to let him go!"

  "Agnes is right," said the sensible Miss Mason. "Your son did his dutyin taking the chance offered to him, and God is merciful. You must trustto Him, Mrs. Denham. Agnes, my dear, you are not fit to go to yourpupils to-day. I have written a note, and Jack can take it before hegoes to school."

  "No, thank you, ma'am," said Agnes. "Mrs. Dallas is particular. I amquite well enough this morning; the walk will do me good. I mean to bebrave, and keep up heart."

  She smiled, but it was a wan smile.

  "Perhaps you are right," replied the little old lady, with secretadmiration of the girl's resolution. "Duty and work are a real help introuble."

  Miss Mason became a firm friend to Agnes from that time. She was alonely woman. Death had lately robbed her of all who were near and dearto her; it had lessened her means, and taken her home from her; but shehad an affectionate heart, into which she took her young acquaintancefrom that time, and found an unexpected source of happiness in so doing.

  Many were the little ways of relieving the strain upon Agnes which shefound. She allowed Lisa to bring her school-work into her parlour forpreparation; and the quiet harbour of refuge proved to be an immenseboon, and lessened the constant irritation of the girl's temper.

  She often took Cicely to walk with her; she taught her to read, andquite took her off her mother's hands.

  In another week, a second telegram assured the family of Ralph's safearrival at Moulmein; but all particulars had to be sent by post, andbefore they arrived all the children were down with measles.

  Lisa and the baby were excessively ill. Lisa's lungs were much affected,she had been growing very fast, and the time of year was against her;while the complaint seemed to bring out latent mischief in the baby'sconstitution: spinal disease asserted itself, and the medical manpronounced that, if he lived, he must be a hopeless cripple.

  Agnes, who had taken the measles in the first instance from her pupils,was left with a cough which every east wind aggravated, and she becamethin and pale.

  The assurance of Ralph's safety was a great cordial, but the letterswhich arrived by post, in due course of time, brought with them renewedanxiety. They related only the bare facts of the escape from the ship,and that of Ralph's severe illness.

  Captain Rogers had sailed from Rangoon so quickly as to have missed Mr.Gilchrist's account of particulars, addressed to him there and repostedto him in Liverpool. Thus, though he himself arrived very soon after hisown letter to the firm, he knew little or nothing further.

  The Messrs. Herford wished him to go out again as soon as possible. Theyhad every confidence in him, attributing no blame whatever to him forthe loss of his ship; but an official inquiry into the circumstances wasinevitable, and all the appliances for Gilchrist's orchid hunting had tobe renewed, besides the usual business of loading his new ship. He randown to Cornwall to see his wife, and was obliged to be in London aboutthe business, so could scarcely spare time to see his sister.

  As soon, however, as Mr. Gilchrist's letter arrived, a copy of it wassent to Mrs. Denham; and the same post brought one to her saying thather son was out of danger, and relating details of his recovery.

  These letters did more than relieve the terrible suspense of Mrs. Denhamand her family, they aroused the deepest interest in the minds of all inthe office of Messrs. Herford Brothers.

  Mr. Augustus Herford, talking over the matter with the captain,complimented him highly upon the conduct of his nephew.

  "He must be a lad worth helping," said he; "and the mother, for whosesake he has plunged into so much danger, shall not be forgotten. Whatother family has she, Rogers?"

  "Two more sons, sir, younger, and whose education is difficult toaccomplish,--a crippled infant, who must always be a burden,--and threedaughters."

  "Six young children!" exclaimed Mr. Herford. "Poor soul, poor soul!"

  He was a rich and liberal man, and acted upon his impulse. A situationwas offered to Ralph in the house at Rangoon, where he might rise morerapidly than in England. Reginald was put into Christ's Hospital; andJack should be apprenticed to his uncle as soon as he was fourteen. Thiswould not be for nearly a year; but Reginald went soon, which relievedthe crowd in the house,--and Ralph's heroism, the illness at home, andthe dreadful suspense as to his brothers fate, had exerted a veryfavourable influence over the boy's character.

  He saw how Ralph was respected and admired; he witnessed how much he wasbeloved and missed at home, and determined to win the same regard ifpossible. At anyrate, he would not disgrace his brother. The hope ofsoon entering upon a manly career added to his improvement; his last fewmonths at home should be useful in leaving a good impression behind him,and little annoyances which would so soon be over were more easilyborne.

  Ralph would have been more surprised than anyone had he realised howwidespread the consequences of his own simple adherence to duty hadbecome, or how his own dear ones benefited through it.

  Time passed on, the invalids improved in health; spring advanced, and aletter arrived from Ralph himself, saying little of his troubles, butfull of the kindness he had received, and the pleasure with which he wasanticipating his journey with Mr. Gilchrist.

  "Kershaw, my friend, is on his way home," he wrote in conclusion. "Hehas promised to call and see you, dear mother. I have sent a few triflesfor you from the bazaar here, and he will tell you much which I amhardly strong enough yet to write about."

  It was not long after receipt of this letter before a tall,good-looking, sunburnt, and extremely grave young man called oneevening. He proved to be Ralph's friend, the mate Kershaw, and he wasreceived with effusion. Tea was just ready, and he was at once invitedto remain to partake of it.

  Miss Mason was fetched down, and questions about the dear absent onepoured out upon him. He replied to everyone with the most demurepoliteness, but it was not long before Agnes, as well as some of theothers, observed a twinkle in the bright eyes, not exactly in accordancewith the gravity of his manner. Also some of his calm observations were,to say the least of them, startling.

  There was home-made saffron-cake on the table, and Mrs. Denham offeredhim the plate.

  "Ah!" said he, "no wonder that Denham is a little dissatisfied withBurmese cookery, when he gets such cake as this at home."

  "I am glad that you like it, for it is a kind of cake which we Cornishpeople particularly affect. Do you happen to have Cornish connections,Mr. Kershaw?"

  "No, madam, I am of Irish extraction."

  "Irish!" cried Lisa. "I should so like to visit Ireland. I want to seeFingal's Cave and the Giant's Causeway."

  "I suppose you know, Miss Lisa, that the Causeway is supposed not to bea freak of nature but of man's manufacture."

  "No, I never heard that," said Lisa. "What ground is there for supposingsuch a thing?"

  "There are so many sham rocks in Ireland," said he sadly.

  "Stuff!" said Lisa rudely. The others laughed.

  "I suppose you heard that Ralph is to go up into the jungle, orchidhunting, with Mr. Gilchrist?" said Mrs. Denham.

  "Yes; it will be a most interesting expedition. I could have wished tohave joined it, only it was necessary to come home and pass myexamination for master. Without my master's certificate I cannot take ab
erth as first mate, you know. Otherwise I should have liked to havegone with them, natural history is my great forte,--particularly Burmesenatural history. I should have liked to have seen the Kain-no-ree, whichinhabit lonely parts of the jungle."

  "What sort of creature is that?" asked Jack.

  "It is the missing link between birds and men, which Mr. Darwin failedto discover. It has the body of a bird, and the face of a man, and cantalk away like anything."

  "What a strange creature! I never heard of such a thing before. Are theypretty?"

  "No, rather queer old birds, but conscientious. They have tongues whichnever told a lie. Then the links between the monkeys and the orchids areas much a question of degree, only upon one side, as those betweenmonkeys and natives on the other."

  "I believe," said Miss Mason quietly, "that we occasionally see thelatter peculiarity at home. I have observed it in sailors."

  Mr. Kershaw looked up at her. "Present company always excepted, ofcourse," said he.

  "Oh, certainly so! particularly when the company present is of Irishextraction," she replied.

  "Miss Denham," appealed the young man, in injured innocence, "this ladyis very severe upon me. Will you not take my part?"

  "But, Mr. Kershaw, you did take even me in for a minute. How can Ibelieve you again?"

  "Even you? Was it so? I cry, _Peccavi_. _Even_ you."

  "And now you are laughing at me."

  "I? I would not laugh for the world, not even at you."

  "I wish I could be even with you, Mr. Kershaw."

  "And I wish that I could be evened to you, Miss Denham."

  All laughed there; then Mr. Kershaw's accounts of Burma began again, ina curious medley of truth and fiction difficult to separate.

  "The Burmese are a very strictly religious sort of folks. They kick offtheir shoes to pray, and sit upon their heels. They must not take life,not even kill their fleas or their black-beetles; yet they are the mostdetermined murderers on the face of the earth. There is no country inwhich human life is less considered where offence has been offered."

  "But does the English Government allow this?" asked Mrs. Denham.

  "Well, madam, the murderers make such good and cheap servants, you see.Of course they must not kill the English."

  "I do not know how to believe you, Mr. Kershaw."

  "Other ladies have the same difficulty at times, ma'am, but I may assureyou that it is a fact. English people are perfectly safe from them.Other customs are peculiar. Whenever they wish for a wet day, they senda white elephant out to take his walks abroad, and the rain is sure tocome."

  "Now, Mr. Kershaw!"

  "It is quite true, madam. It would be done more frequently were theremore white elephants, but there are very few, and it does not answer towhitewash them. Unfortunately it is one of those cases where theconverse of a fact does not work in an opposite manner. There would notbe six months of rain at a stretch if sending out a black elephant wouldstop it."

  "I daresay not," remarked Miss Mason drily. "Will you take some honey,Mr. Kershaw?"

  "No, I thank you, ma'am. Burma has cured me from a boyish taste forhoney. They embalm their dead with honey there; and, after a time, tapthe mummies, in a spirit of true economy, and sell the honey in thebazaars to Englishmen unsuspecting of guile. Such honey is said to bepeculiarly nourishing,--to eat it from the tomb of your fathers is totaste all the sweetness of friendship with your venerated ancestors. Itis a poetical idea."

  "Mr. Kershaw! How can you talk so? Have you no pleasanter or reallybeautiful things about which to tell us?"

  "The most beautiful idea of which I have heard there, is the notion thatpeople's souls are like butterflies, and that when you dream of anabsent friend, it is really because your butterfly and his have escaped,for a time, from their prison-houses, and meet in dreamland for a chat."

  "Oh," sighed Agnes, "I wish that my brother's butterfly would escapethis very night, and tell me what he is doing at this moment!"

  "Don't wish that, Agnes dear," said Miss Mason. "Should he be in pain ordifficulty, and you could not help him, it would be better for you notto know of it."

  "How can you say so!" cried Agnes. "I should always know when he ishappy, and if troubles came I could give him my sympathy."

  "Suppose you give it to me, Miss Denham, to keep for him. I would takegreat care of it."

  They were examining his clothes with grins of delight (_p. 193_).]

  "I fear that you would put it away so carefully that you would not knowwhere to find it at need," said Agnes.

  So they chatted on, now in joke, now in earnest, and an atmosphere ofyouthful brightness came into the house with the sailor and dispersedmuch of its gloom.

  He often called to spend a few hours with them, for he had few friendsin Liverpool, and liked all the family. To Jack he became very useful;and Mrs. Denham grew to regard him almost in the light of another son.