The Light of Scarthey: A Romance
CHAPTER XXVI
THE THREE COLOURS
The sun was high above the Welsh hills; the _Peregrine_ had sheeredher way through a hundred miles or more of fretted waters before hercaptain, in his hammock slung for the nonce near the men's quarters,stirred from his profound sleep--nature's kind restorer to healthybrain and limbs--after the ceaseless fatigue and emotions of the lastthirty-six hours.
As he leaped to his feet out of the swinging canvas, the usual vigourof life coursing through every fibre of him, he fell to wondering, inhalf-awake fashion, at the meaning of the unwonted weight lurking insome back recess of consciousness.
Then memory, the ruthless, arose and buffeted his soul.
The one thing had failed him without which all else was as nothing;fate, and his own hot blood, had conspired to place his heart's desirebeyond all reasonable hope. Certain phrases in Madeleine's lettercrossed and re-crossed his mind, bringing now an unwonted sting ofanger, now the old cruel pain of last night. The thought of thehateful complication introduced into his already sufficiently involvedaffairs by the involuntary kidnapping of his friend's wife filled himwith a sense of impotent irritation, very foreign to his temper; andas certain looks and words of the unwished-for prisoner flashed backupon him, a hot colour rose, even in his solitude, to his wholesomebrown cheek.
But in spite of all, in spite of reason and feeling alike hisessential buoyancy asserted itself. He could not despair. He had notbeen given this vigour of soul and body to sit down under misfortune.Resignation was for the poor of heart; only cravens gave up while itwas yet possible to act. His fair ship was speeding with him as heloved to feel her speed; around him spread the vast spaces in whichhis spirit rejoiced--salt sea and vaulted heavens; the full air of theopen, the brisk dash of the wind filled him with physical exhilarationat every breath, and tingled in his veins; the sporting blood, whichhad come to him from generations of hunting squires, found all itscraving satisfied in this coursing across the green ocean fields, andthe added element of danger was as the sting of the brine to hispalate. What--despair now? with his perilous enterprise all butaccomplished, the whole world, save one country, before him, andMadeleine unwed! Another might, but not Jack Smith; not HubertCochrane!
He was actually trolling out the stave of a song as he sprang up thecompanion ladder after his rough breakfast in the galley, but thesound expired at the sight of the distant flutter of a woman's scarfin the stern of the ship. He halted and ran his fingers through hiscrisp hair with an expressive gesture of almost comical perplexity;all would be plain sailing enough, with hope at the prow again, butfor this--he stamped his foot to choke down the oath ofqualification--this encumbrance. Adrian's wife and Madeleine's sister,as such entitled to all honour, all care, and devotion; and yet, assuch again, hideously, doubly unwelcome to him!
As he stood, biting his lips, while the gorgeous sunshine of the youngspring morning beat down upon his bare head, the brawny figure of themate, his mahogany-tinted face wrinkled into as stiff a grin as if ithad been indeed carved out of the wood in question, intervened betweenhis abstracted gaze and the restless amber beyond.
"It's a fine day, sir," by way of opening conversation.
The irrepressible satisfaction conveyed by the wide display oftobacco-stained teeth, by the twinkle in the hard, honest eyes calledup a queer, rueful grimace to the other man's face.
"Do you know, Curwen," he said, "that you brought me the wrong younglady last night?"
The sailor jumped back in amazement. "The wrong young lady, sir,"staring with starting, incredulous eyeballs, "the wrong, young lady!"here he clapped his thigh, "Well of all--the wrong young lady! Are youquite sure, sir?"
Captain Jack laughed aloud. But it was with a bitter twist at thecorners of his lips.
"Well I'm----," said poor Curwen. All his importance andself-satisfaction had left him as suddenly as the starch a sousedcollar. He scanned his master's face with almost pathetic anxiety.
"Oh, I don't blame you--you did your part all right. Why, I myselffell into the same mistake, and we had not much time for finding itout, had we? The lady you see--the lady--she is the other lady'ssister and she came with a message. And so we carried her off beforewe knew where we were--or she either," added Captain Jack as amendacious after thought.
"Well I'm----," reiterated Curwen who then rubbed his scrubby,bristling chin, scratched his poll and finally broke into anothergrin--this time of the kind classified as sheepish.
"And what'll be to do now?"
"By the God that made me, I haven't a notion! We must take all thecare of her we can, of course. Serve her her meals in her cabin, aswas arranged, and see that she is attended to, just as the other younglady would have been you know, only that I think she had better beserved alone, and I shall mess downstairs as usual. And then if we canleave her at St. Malo, we shall. But it must be in all safety, Curwen,for it's a terrible responsibility. Happily we have now the time tothink. Meanwhile I have slept like a log and she--I see is astirbefore me."
"Lord bless you, sir, she has been up these two hours! Walking thedeck like a sailor, and asking about things and enjoying them like.Ah, she is a rare lady, that she is! And it is the wrong one--wellthis is a go! And I was remarking to Bill Baxter, just now, that itwas just our captain's luck to have found such a regular sailor'syoung woman, so I said--begging pardon for the word. And not more thanhe is worth, says he, and so said I also. And she the wrong lady afterall! Well, it's a curious thing, sir, nobody could be like to guess itfrom her. She's a well-plucked one, with her wound and all. She mademe look at it this morning, when I brought her a cup of coffee and abite: 'You're old enough to be my father,' says she, as pretty as canbe, 'so you shall be doctor as well as lady's maid; and, if you'vegot a girl of your own, it'll be a story to tell her by the fire atnight, when you're home again,' so she said; and never winced when Iput my great fingers on her arm. I was all of a tremble, I declare,with her a smiling up at me, but the wound--it's doing finely; healingas nice as ever I see, and not a sign of sickness on her. The verylady as I was saying, for our captain--but here she comes."
This was an unwontedly long speech for Curwen; and, silent again, heeffaced himself discreetly, just in time to avoid the angryejaculation that had sprung to his captain's lips, but not without abackward glance of admiration at the tall, alert figure now bearingdown in their direction with steps already firmly balanced to themovement of the ship.
At a little distance from Captain Jack, Molly paused as if toscrutinise the horizon, and enjoy the invigorating atmosphere. Inreality her heart was beating fast, her breath came short; and thegaze she flung from the faint outline of coast upon one side to thevast monotony of sparkling sea upon the other conveyed no impressionto her troubled mind. The next instant he was by her side. As shesmiled at him, he noticed that her face was pale, and her eyes darklyencircled.
"Ah, madam," said he, as he drew close and lifted his hand to hishead, with a gesture of formal courtesy that no doubt somewhatastonished a couple of his men who were watching the group with covertsmiles and nudges, being as yet unaware of the misadventure, "yourelieve my mind of anxiety. How is the arm? Does it make you suffermuch? No! You must be strong indeed."
"Yes, I am strong," answered she, and flushed, and looked out acrossthe sea, inhaling the air with dilated nostrils.
Within her, her soul was crying out to him. It was as if there was atide there, as fierce and passionate as the waves around her, allbearing, straining to him, and this with a struggle and flow soresistless, that she could neither remember the past, nor measure thefuture, but only feel herself carried on, beaten and tossed upon thesegreat waters, like a helpless wreck.
"I trust you are well attended to," began the man constrainedly again."I fear you will have to endure much discomfort. I had reckoned----."Here he halted galled by the thought of what it was he had reckonedupon, the thought of the watchful love that was to have made of thelittle ship a very nest for his bride, of the exquisite joy it was
tohave harboured! And he set his teeth at fate.
She played for a while with her little finger tips upon the rail, thenturned her gaze, full and bold, upon him.
"I do not complain," she said.
He bowed gravely. "We will do our best for you, and if you will takepatience, the time will pass at last, as all time passes. I have a fewbooks, they shall be brought into your cabin. In three days we shallbe in St. Malo--There, if you like----" he hesitated, embarrassed.
"There!" echoed Lady Landale with her eyes still fixed upon hisdowncast face--"If I like--what?"
"We could leave you----"
Her bosom rose and fell quickly with stormy breaths. "Alone,moneyless, in a strange town--that is well and kindly thought!" shesaid.
Whence had come to her this strange power of feeling pain? She had notknown that one could suffer in one's heart like this; she, whosequarrel with life hitherto had been for its too great comfort,security and peace. She felt a lump rise to her throat, and tears wellinto her eyes, blurring all the sunlit vision and she turned her headaway and beat her sound left hand clenched upon the ledge.
"Before heaven," cried Jack, distressed out of his unnaturalstiffness, "you mistake me, Lady Landale! I am only anxious to do whatis best for you, what Adrian would wish. To leave you alone, deserted,helpless at St. Malo, you could not have thought I should mean that?No, indeed, I would have seen you into safe hands, in some comfortablehotel, with a maid to wait upon you--I know of such a place--Adriancould not have been long in coming to fetch you. I should have had aletter ready to post to him the instant we landed. As to money,"flushing boyishly, "that is the least consideration--there is nodearth of that to fear. If you prefer it I can, however, convey yousomewhere upon the English coast after we quit St. Malo; but that willentail a longer residence for you here on board ship; and it is no fitplace for you."
Still looking out across the sea, Molly replied, in a deep shakenvoice, unlike her own, "You did not think it unfit for my sister."
"Your sister? But your sister was to have been my wife!"
Burning through the mists of her unshed tears once more her glancereturned to his: "And I--" she cried and here was suddenly silentagain, gazing at the thin circlet of gold upon her left hand, beneaththe flashing diamonds. After a moment then, she broke outfiercely--"Oh do with me what you will, but for God's sake leave me inpeace!" And stamping, turned her shoulder on him to stare straightoutwards as before.
Captain Jack drew back, paused an instant, clutched his hair with adesperate gesture and slowly walked away.
* * * * *
The voyage of the _Peregrine_ was as rapid as her captain had hoped,and the dawn of the fourth day broke upon them from behind the Frenchcoast, where Normandy joins old Armorica.
For a little while, Lady Landale, awakened from her uneasy sleep bythe unusual stir on deck, lay languidly watching the light as itfiltered through the port-hole of her little cabin, the coloursgrowing out of greyness on the walls; listening to the tramp of feetand the mate's husky voice without. Then her heart tightened with apremonition of the coming separation. She sat up and looked out of herwindow: as the horizon rose and fell giddily to her eye there lay thefatal line of land. The land of her blood but to her now, the land ofexile!
She had seen but little of Captain Jack these last two days;interchanged but few and formal words with him, now and then, as theymet morning and evening or came across each other during the day. Shefelt that he avoided her. But she had seen him, she had heard hisvoice, they had been close to each other upon the great seas, howeverdivided, and this had been something to feed upon. Now what prospectbefore her hungry heart but--starvation?
At least the last precious moments should not be lost to her. She roseand dressed in haste; a difficult operation in her maimed state.Before leaving her narrow quarters, she peered into the looking-glasswith an eagerness she had never displayed in the days of her vaingirlhood.
"What a fright!" she said to the anxious face that looked back at herwith yearning eyes and dark burning lips. And she thought ofMadeleine's placid fairness as Cain might of Abel's modest altar.
When she emerged upon deck, a strange and beautiful scene was spreadto her gaze. A golden haze enveloped the water and the coast, but outof it, in brown jagged outline, against the blazing background ofglowing sunlight rose the towers, the pointed roofs and spires of thatold corsair's hive, St. Malo. The waters were bright green, frothedwith oily foam around the ship. The masts cast strange long blackshadows, and Molly saw one spring from her own feet as she moved intothe morning glow. The _Peregrine_, she noticed, was cruising parallelwith the coast, instead of making for the harbour, and just now allwas very still on board. Two men, conspicuous against the yellow sky,stood apart, a little forward, with their backs turned to her.
One of these was Captain Jack, gazing steadily at the town through atelescope; the other the mate. Both were silent. Silently herself andunnoticed Molly went up and stood beside them; observing her sister'slover as intently as he that unknown distant point, she presently sawthe lean hand nearest her tremble ever so slightly as it held theglass; then he turned and handed it to his companion, saying briefly,"See what you make of it."
The man lifted the glass, set it, looked, dropped his hand and facedhis captain. Their eyes met, but neither spoke for a second or two.
"It is so, then?" said the captain at last.
"Aye, sir, no mistake about that. There's the tricolour up again--andbe damned to it--as large as life, to be sure!"
The healthy tan of the captain's face had not altered by one shade;his mouth was set in its usual firm line, but, by the intuition of herfiery soul, the woman beside him knew that he had received a blow.
"A strange thing," went on Curwen in a grumbling guttural bass, "andit's only a year ago since they set up the old white napkin again. Youdid not look for this, sir?" He too had his intuitions.
"No, Curwen, it is the last thing I looked for. And it spells failureto me--failure once more!"
As he spoke he turned his head slightly and perceiving Molly standingclose behind him glanced up sharply and frowned, then strove to smoothhis brow into conventional serenity and greeted her civilly.
Curwen, clenching his hard hands together round the telescope, retireda step and stood apart, still hanging on his captain's every gesturelike a faithful dog.
"What does it mean?" asked Molly, disregarding the morning salutation.
"It means strange things to France," responded Captain Jack slowly,with a bitter smile; "and to me, Madam, it means that I have come on awild goose chase----"
He stretched out his hand for the glass once more as hespoke--although even by the naked eye the flag, minute as it was,could be seen to flash red in the breeze--and sought the far-offflutter again; and then closing the instrument with an angry snap,tossed it back.
"But what does it mean?" reiterated Molly, a wild impatience, a wildhope trembling in her breast.
"It means, Madam, that I have brought my pigs to the wrong market,"cried Captain Jack, still with the smile that sat so strangely uponhis frank lips; "that the goods I have to deliver, I cannot deliver.For if there is any meaning in symbols, by the wave of that tricolouryonder the country has changed rulers again. My dealings were to bewith the king's men, and as they are not here, at least, no longer inpower--how could they be under that rag?--I must even trot the cargohome again. Not a word to the men, Curwen, but give the order to sheeroff! We have lowered the blue, white and red too often, have not we?to risk a good English ship, unarmed, under the nozzles of thoseRepublican or Imperial guns."
The man grinned. The two could trust each other. Molly turned away andmoved seawards, for she knew that the joy upon her face was not to behidden. Captain Jack fell to pacing the deck with bent head, and long,slow steps.
Absorbed in dovetailing the last secret arrangements of his venture,and more intent still, during his very few hours of idleness, on theengrossing thought of l
ove, he had had no knowledge of theextraordinary challenge to fate cast by Bonaparte, of that challengewhich was to end in the last and decisive clash of French and Englishhosts. He had not even heard of the Corsican's return to France withhis handful of grenadiers, for newspapers were scarce at Scarthey. Buteven had he heard, like the rest of the world, he would no doubt havethought no more of it than as a mad freak born of the vanquishedusurper's foolhardy restlessness.
But the conclave of plenipotentiaries assembled at Vienna were notmore thunderstruck when, on that very 19th of March, the semaphorebrought them news of the legitimate King of France once more fled, andof his country once more abandoned to the hated usurper, than wasCaptain Jack as he watched the distant flagstaff in the sunrise, andsaw, when the morning port gun had vomited forth its white cloud onthe ramparts of St. Malo, the fatal stripes run up the slender line inlieu of the white standard.
But Jack Smith's mind, like his body, was quick in action. The sun hadtravelled but a degree or two over the wide undulating land, the mistswere yet rising, when suddenly he halted, and called the mate in thosecommanding tones that had, from the first time she had heard them,echoed in Molly's heart:
"Bring her alongside one of those smacks yonder, the furthest out tosea."
Thereupon followed Curwen's hoarse bellow, an ordered stampede uponthe deck, and gracefully, with no more seeming effort than a swan upona garden pond, the _Peregrine_ veered and glided towards the roughskiff with its single ochre sail and its couple of brown-facedfishermen, who had left their nets to watch her advance. Captain Jackleant over the side, his hands over his mouth, and hailed them in hisBritish-French--correct enough, but stiff to his tongue, as Mollyheard and smiled at, and loved him for, in woman's way, when she lovesat all.
"Ahoy, the friend! A golden piece for him who will come on board andtell the news of the town."
A brief consultation between the fisher pair.
"_Un ecu d'or_," repeated Captain Jack. Then there was a flash ofwhite teeth on the two weather-beaten faces.
"_On y va, patron_," cried one of the fellows, cheerfully, and jumpedinto his dinghey, while his comrade still stared and grinned, and thestalwart lads of the _Peregrine_ grinned back at the queer foreignfigure with the brown cap and the big gold earrings.
Soon the fisherman's bare feet were thudding on the deck, and he stoodbefore the English captain, cap in hand, his little, quick black eyesroaming in all directions, over the wonders of the beautiful whiteship, with innocent curiosity. But before Captain Jack could get histongue round another French phrase, Molly, detaching herself from herpost of observation, came forward, smiling.
"Let me speak to him," she said, "he will understand me better, and itwill go quicker. What is it you want to know?"
Captain Jack hesitated a moment, saw the advantage of the suggestion,and then accepted the offer with the queer embarrassment that alwayscame over him in his relations with her.
"You are very good," he said.
"Oh, I like to talk the father and mother tongue," she said, gaily andsweetly. Her eyes danced; he had never seen her in this mood, and, asbefore, grudgingly had to admit her beauty.
"And if you will allow it," she went on, "I am glad to be of use too."
The fisherman, twirling his cap in his knotted fingers, stared at heropen mouthed. _Une si belle dame!_ like a queen and speaking histongue that it was a music to listen to. This was in truth a ship ofmarvels. _Ah, bon Dieu, oui, Madame_, there were news at St. Malo, butit depended upon one's feelings whether they were to be regarded asgood or bad--_Dame_, every one has one's opinions--but forhim--_pourvu qu'on lui fiche la paix_--what did it matter who sat onthe throne--His Majesty the King--His Majesty the Emperor, or CitizenBonaparte. Oh, a poor fisherman, what was it to him? He occupiedhimself with his little fishes, not with great folk. (Anotherwhite-teethed grin.) What had happened? _Parbleu_, it began by themilitary, those accursed military (this with a cautious look around,and gathering courage by seeing no signs of disapproval, proceedingwith greater volubility). The poor town was full of them, infantryand artillery; regiments of young devils--and a band of old ones too.The veterans of _celui la_ (spitting on the deck contemptuously) theywere the worst; that went without saying. A week ago there came arumour that he had escaped--was in France--and then the fermentbegan--duels every day--rows in the cafes, fights in the ports. Atnight one would hear shouts in the streets--_Vive l'Empereur!_ and itspread, it spread. _Ma foi_--one regiment mutinied, then another--andthen it was known that the Emperor had reached Paris. Oh, then it waswarm! All those gentlemen, the officers who were for the King, werearrested. Then there was a grand parade on the _place d'armes_--Yes,he went there too, though he did not care much about soldiers. All thegarrison was there. The colonel of the veterans came out with a flagin its case. _Portez armes!_ Good. They pull out the flag from thecase: it's the old tricolour with the eagle on the top! _Presentezarmes!_ And this time it was all over. Ah, one should have seen that,heard the houras, seen the bonfires! _Monsieur le Maire_ and the rest,appointed by the King, they were in a great fright, they had to giveway--what does Madame say? Traitors? Oh, _bedame_ (scratching hishead), it was no joke with the military just now--the whole place wasunder military law and, _saperlotte_, when the strong commands it isbest for the weak to obey. As for him, he was only a poor fisherman.What did he know? he was not a politician: every one to his trade. Solong as they let one have the peace--He thanked the gentleman, thankedhim much; thanked the lady, desired to wish her the good-morning and_Monsieur_ too. Did they like no little fresh soles this morning? Hehad some leaping then below in his boat. No? well the good-morningthen.
They had heard enough. The fisherman paddled back to his skiff, andMolly stood watching from a little distance the motionless figure ofthe captain of the _Peregrine_ as with one hand clenching thehand-rail he gazed towards St. Malo with troubled eyes.
After a few minutes Curwen advanced and touched him lightly on thearm.
Captain Jack turned slowly to look at him: his face was a little paleand his jaw set. But the mate, who had served under him since the dayhe first stepped upon the old _St. Nicholas_, a gallant, fair-facedlad (and who knew "every turn of him," as he would have expressed ithimself), saw that he had taken his decision; and he stepped backsatisfied, ready to shape his course for the near harbour, or for thePacific Ocean, or back to Scarthey itself at his master's bidding.
"Call the men up," said the captain, "they have earned their bountyand they shall have it. Though their skipper is a poorer man than hethought to be, by this fool's work yonder, his good lads shall notsuffer. Tush, man, that's the order--not a word. And after that,Curwen, let her make for the sea again, northwards."