by Guy Boothby
CHAPTER II.
A CHEQUERED CAREER.
To a sailor, perhaps the most trying parts of his courtship are thelengthy periods he is compelled to spend away from the presence of hisbeloved one; and yet, curiously enough, when in later life he comes tolook back upon the whole business, he is pretty certain to discover thatthey were not the least pleasant portions of it. However that may be, itis a crucial test of the genuineness of his affection; and then it isthat he has an opportunity of realizing what truth there is in the oldsaying, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." How often, when pacinghis lonely watch, do you suppose his sweetheart's face rises before him?How often, when a stiff breeze is blowing, filling the canvas like greatballoons, and driving the good ship, homeward bound, for all she isworth, do you think the thought of her he will soon hold in his arms,whose lips he will soon kiss, into whose eyes he will gaze with so fonda rapture, will cross his mind? Or, if his ship's head be turned awayfrom home, hasn't he the sweet knowledge ever present with him that acertain voluminous epistle will meet him at the other end, destinedamply to compensate for the bitterness of parting? Well, I protest,though separation may be one of the hardest parts of a sailor'scourtship, yet, all things considered, it is worth undergoing, if onlyfor the joy of reuniting. As the Frenchman has it--
"L'absence est a l'amour ce qu'est au feu le vent; Il eteint le petit, il allume le grand."
When I bade Maud my first good-bye after our engagement, I was, though Idid not know it, bound on a long cruise. We visited Calcutta, Singapore,and Hong Kong, crossed the Pacific to San Francisco, thence round theHorn to Rio; finally returning, _via_ New York, home. By that time, asmay be supposed, I was ravenous--no other word so fully expressesit--for a glimpse of my darling's face; I felt as if I had not seen herfor a lifetime.
So soon, therefore, as we were docked, and I could be spared, away Isped, first home to the old mother, and then, as early as I coulddecently excuse myself, to Maud. By the time my cab pulled up at herdoor I was in a fever, and I remember well the cabman's expression ofsurprise when he realized that instead of his legal fare ofeighteen-pence I had given him five shillings. Summers, the same ancientbutler who opened the door to me on the day I first saw my sweetheart,invited me to enter now, and the grip I gave his honest hand heprofesses to feel even at this distant date. A minute later I wasentering the drawing-room, prepared to clasp my dear girl in my arms.
At this point occurred a trifling circumstance--so trifling regarded inthe white light of these later days that I almost hesitate to narrateit--that was, nevertheless, destined to alter the whole current of myafter life, and indirectly to bring me into touch with all the curiousthings I have set myself to tell.
As I have just said, I entered the drawing-room, prepared to bestow uponMaud the hungry embrace of a long-parted lover. My intentions, however,were dashed to the ground by the presence of a third party--a man. As hestood watching us there was nothing for it but to behave likecommonplace mortals, but I promise you I was not grateful to him for hispresence. To say that Maud looked prettier than when I had left her lastwould perhaps be hardly the truth (though to my eyes she wasincomparably sweet), for her face had a worn and harrassed expressionwhich had not been there when I bade her good-bye. Her welcome was aswarm as I could expect under the circumstances, but nevertheless I wasbitterly disappointed by it.
Her companion's name was Welbourne, Captain Horatio Welbourne, of one ofthe Household Regiments, I believe. We exchanged glances, and from thatmoment I became furiously jealous of him. I must, however, do him thejustice to admit that he was a fine figure of a man, tall and soldierly,as befitted his calling. Our introduction effected, Maud proceeded todispense the tea she was pouring out when I entered.
Inwardly chafing to have my sweetheart to myself, it was with the utmostdifficulty I could engage myself in the insipid conversation, throughthe mazes of which the gallant captain led us. When he rose to departanother relay of fashionables arrived, and after standing it for nearlyan hour I made my excuses, and raging against the whole world fled thehouse.
The next afternoon I called again. This time I was fortunate enough tofind Maud alone. I think she was vexed with me for deserting her theprevious day; at any rate, her manner was distinctly cold. As ithappened, we had hardly been a quarter of an hour together before theself-same Captain Welbourne must needs put in an appearance, bringingwith him the peculiar air of being the tame cat of the house I hadnoticed on the previous occasion. I fancy Maud must have had some ideaof what was in my mind, for she became painfully embarrassed, andnoticing this, my suspicions grew and grew. How unjust I was to her, Ican now see, but at the time I could not help remembering that she wasan heiress, and that the gallant captain was really a most attractiveperson. Yet I determined I would not allow myself to become jealouswithout good cause.
That was, however, soon forthcoming, and, I blush to relate it now,through the gossip of a female tittle-tattler. Unhappily I was in such astate that I had no option but to believe it true. And, being everimpetuous and hot-headed, nothing would suit me then but I must callupon Maud while under the influence of my anger. Naturally enough sheresented the terms in which I couched my remarks, and I left the housein high dudgeon, more than ever convinced that she was false to me. Aweek went by without a word on either side, and at the end of it I putback to sea nearly broken-hearted. As if to accentuate the sting, thatwas my first voyage as chief officer.
From this point I date my downfall. Perhaps I was tired of the sea, orperhaps I was still piqued by what I could not help considering Maud'sill-treatment of me; at any rate, I got it into my poor addled brainthat when we reached South Australia I would cry quits with the nauticalprofession, and if possible settle down out there to a life ashore. Thisscheme I put into practice, with the result that, after much jobbery, Iobtained a situation in a ship-chandler's office in Port Adelaide,retaining it until my employer's fraudulent insolvency threw me on theworld again. Then, a new gold-field breaking out inland, off I trampedto it, imbued with the intention of making my fortune, and returning tothe mother-country a millionaire. This venture, however, was no moresuccessful than the last, and after nearly three months' hard work, allI had to show for it were six dwts. of gold, and a bad attack of typhoidfever that nearly made an end of me. For nearly ten weeks I was confinedto my bed in the tent-hospital, to leave it more like a skeleton than ahuman being.
What to do now I had no idea. I was bankrupt; my claim had been seized;I was too weak to tramp the bush in search of work; and indeed had Ifound any I doubt if I could have undertaken it. Added to all this, orperhaps I should say as the result of all this, I grew exceedinglydespondent. Indeed the horrors of that period I am loth to dwell upon,save that it gave me an opportunity of experiencing one of those littletouches of kindness which go to prove that after all humanity in theabstract is not quite so bad as it is usually made out to be.
From the gold-field where I had contracted my illness, I had wandered,partly by Government assistance and partly by my own exertions, as faras the famous silver-mining town of Broken Hill, just over the New SouthWales border. Here, in the midst of barbaric waste and splendour, arelapse seized me, and for nigh upon three weeks I hovered, in the TownHospital, on the border-land of Life and Death.
When I said farewell to that kindly institution, I was at my wits' endas to my future. I had no money, and I was without the means of earningany. Fortunately it was summer time, and sleeping in the open air wasnot only quite possible but very pleasant, so I had no concern aboutlodgings; that, however, was only a minor matter, for I was starving.Oh, how bitterly I regretted having forsaken my old profession! No onewill ever know the agony I endured. I could have fought the world forthe very crumbs that were used to fall from the cuddy table. Day afterday I toiled up one street and down another, from mine to mine, andsmelter to smelter, seeking for the work which never offered.
One sunset, weary and horribly sick at heart, I was crawling back to myusual camping pla
ce on the outskirts of the town, when a suddenfaintness seized me. The whole world turned black before my eyes, Ireeled, and fell unconscious by the road-side.
I remember nothing of what occurred, till I awoke to find myself lyingupon a stretcher in a small tent. A man was leaning over me, and when myeyes opened he seemed to regard it as a matter for considerablesatisfaction. I tried to collect my thoughts sufficiently to ask where Iwas, but seeing my lips attempting to form the sentence, he stopped meby saying--
"Naa, naa, laddie, tha' must just bide still a bit longer. Dunna tha'try to talk, or tha'll be maakin' thaself ill agin. There's na call forhurry, a tell tha'."
That my kind friend, for such he had surely proved himself, was a miner,I had no doubt--his dress, his kit, and even his accent proved that; butotherwise I could hazard no guess as to where I was. Being too weak tobestow much consideration upon the matter, I closed my eyes andimmediately fell asleep again. When I woke it was broad daylight, and myfriend had just returned from shift. He hastened to put food before me,talking incessantly the while. From him I learnt that he and his matehad discovered me lying insensible beside the road, not fifty yards fromhis tent; that between them they had carried me in and put me to bed,and that I had been unconscious for something like six hours.Naturally, I expressed my gratitude, but he would have none of it,bidding me get well before I talked of saying "Thank you."
My lucky star was evidently in the ascendant. Under his care--for whilethe kindest and gentlest, he was also the most exacting of nurses--Isoon made visible improvement, and in a week was so far recovered as tobe able to get up and potter about the tent. It was time for me to bethinking of moving on again.
"Well, laddie," my benefactor said to me one day, "tha's lookin' braavlynoo."
"Thanks to you," I hastened to reply, "for without your care, JohnTrelsar, I don't know where I should have been to-day; not here, at anyrate."
"Softly lad, softly, I did na more fa' thee than tha'd do fa' me, Ireckon, so we'll cra' quits to it."
"That's all very well; but I owe my life to you, you'll never make mesee anything but that. And now, I wonder what's the best thing for me todo. I can't stay idle here; there's no work to be got in the town, sounless I ship to sea again, I don't know what's to become of me."
Trelsar was all alive in a second.
"I've got it," he said, slapping his huge hand on his knee; "there'sSeth Polwill below there in Adelaide, look see--working in the FireBrigade--tha' must go to he, and say Jack Trelsar sent tha', and, markmy words, he'll put thee on the wa' for some'ut."
This Seth Polwill was a great hero of my benefactor's, upon whoseappearance, sayings, and actions, he was never tired of discoursing.They were Townies, that is, they hailed from the same place in the OldCountry; and as it appeared later, it was to Seth's advice that Trelsarowed his emigration, and the good position he now occupied.
"That's all very well," I remarked, "but how am I to get to Adelaide? Ihaven't a red cent to my name, and I don't think I can screw theGovernment for another pass; they were nasty enough about the last."
"Now, don't thee trouble thaself about that," said John. "If thee wantsa pound or two, to see thee on tha way, why not come to tha friend, JanTrelsar; never fear, lad, but what a'll trust thee."
Upon my deciding to accept a loan, a piece of paper, a pen, and a bottleof ink were obtained, and a letter of introduction to the all-importantPolwill produced.
Armed with this, the very next morning off I accordingly set for theSouth, arriving in due course in Adelaide. So soon as was possible, Imade my way to the Fire Brigade Station, and inquired for Seth Polwill.The firemen were at dinner, but one whom I should have known anywherefor the man I sought, came to the door and inquired my business. He wasa good-looking, well set-up fellow, and when he spoke, I noticed he hadnone of the Cousin Jack dialect so conspicuous in my benefactor'sconversation. Having handed him my letter, he sat down on the wheel ofthe big engine to examine it. He read it through two or three timesbefore venturing a word; then rising, he shook me gravely by the hand,and inquired after Trelsar's health.
After which, he remarked--
"You don't look well."
I replied that I had but recently recovered from a very serious illness,and this led me on to narrate how I came to meet his friend. He listenedattentively, and when I had finished, said--
"You say you've been a sailor?"
I replied in the affirmative, though I refrained from telling him inwhat capacity, for I had a certain delicacy in letting people know thatI had shown myself sufficiently a fool to give up a chief officer'sbillet afloat for starvation ashore.
"Well, look you here, Mr. Ramsay," he said, "I should very much like tohelp you to something, if only to oblige my friend. The best then that Ican do is to tell you that there is a vacancy here. We want anotherhand, and, as perhaps you know, we prefer sailors. If you can qualify, Idon't doubt for a moment but that the superintendent will put you on.Take my advice, go into his office at once, and ask him yourself. Youcan't do any harm by asking, even if you don't get what you ask for."
Thanking him for his assistance, I went straight to the superintendent'sroom. Once there, I stated my business, making the best possible case Icould of it. The superintendent eyed me narrowly.
"You say you've been to sea," he said. "For how long?"
"Twelve years," I replied.
"In what ships?"
I gave him the names of the vessels and their owners.
"In what capacity did you serve aboard them?"
"From apprentice to chief officer," I said, feeling it would be thesafest plan to tell him everything.
He stared when he heard my answer, and looked me carefully up and down.
"I don't know that that's exactly a recommendation, my man," he said."Chief officers who exchange the sea for a fireman's billet don'texactly answer the description of the man I want. I suppose you're awarewe're considered a crack brigade? If I take you on, you'll have to proveyou're no skrimshanker. Our motto here is 'Smartness and sobriety,' doyou understand?"
I remarked that I did. Then, giving me a note to the doctor, who wouldexamine me, he bade me come back to him next day.
To make a long story short, the doctor's examination provingsatisfactory, I was enrolled a member of the Adelaide Fire Brigade, withpermission to do as much work as the day had room for, give as muchsatisfaction as possible, and risk my life in the interest of the cityand the reputation of the Brigade as often as opportunity occurred. Allthings considered, it was by no means an unpleasant life, and until thenovelty wore off, I believe I enjoyed it. One strange coincidence,however, happened to me during my connection with it, which I take to beso extraordinary that I must ask your indulgence while I narrate it.
One miserable, gusty night, early in winter, the alarm sounded for afire. Our promptness was proverbial, and almost before the bell hadceased to sound we were racing for the scene. It turned out to be theNew Federation Hotel, in King William Street, and when we arrived thewhole building was one enormous blaze. The fire had originated, so itwas said, in a small store cupboard behind the bar, and had spread allover the ground-floor, thus practically cutting off the escape of thoselodged in the rooms above. According to the manager's statement, nearlyevery bedroom was occupied that night, and so far only four people hadeffected exits. Within two minutes of our arrival we had the escapes upagainst the building, and were passing the terrified occupants down asfast as we could lay hold of them. It was dangerous work, but we werenot paid to think of that.
Suddenly, at a side window, I saw a woman preparing to hurl herself intothe street below. The crowd noticed her too, and raised a yell. Runninga ladder round, I mounted to her side, and before she could carry outher purpose had taken her in my arms and borne her safely to the ground.As we reached it, a weird, dishevelled, scallywag of a man rushedtowards us, with arms outstretched, crying, "Oh, my God, my God, she'ssafe--my wife!"
_In that brief moment I recognized my old enemy,
Captain Welbourne, theman who I believed had deprived me of Maud!_
Next day I learnt that he was on his wedding tour, and what interestedme far more, _that his wife's maiden name was Hawkhurst_! Two points,therefore, raised themselves for my consideration: either he had neverloved Maud; or he had declared himself, and she had refused him. If thislatter supposition were correct, what could have induced her action? Imust leave it to my readers to imagine what agonies of self-reproach Isuffered after this discovery. I saw plainly that I had wrecked my wholelife by one little foolish exhibition of jealousy, and that too withoutthe slightest cause or justification. A hundred times a day I cursed mysenseless stupidity. But there, what is to be gained by opening the oldwound? Rather let me draw a curtain over such a painful subject, onewhich even to-day I hardly like to think about.
Now, though life in the Fire Brigade might and undoubtedly did possessattractions, they were such as were liable to become exceedinglymonotonous after a time. So it chanced that when I had been employedtherein nearly eight months, a friend heard of a situation asstore-keeper, on a Darling River sheep station, which he was kind enoughto think might suit me. At his suggestion I applied for the position,and had the good fortune to secure it.
Sending in my resignation to the Board, I left Adelaide, and proceededinto the Bush. But the billet did not come up to expectations, and whenI had given it a good trial, I discarded it in favour of another as cookto an Overlanding Party. In this capacity I wandered far afield, withthe result that at the end of eighteen months I found myself inBrisbane, tired of the Bush, and pining for a breath of sea air again.
While inactive in Brisbane, an English letter was forwarded to me fromthe Melbourne Post-office. The writer was a cousin, and her mission wasto announce the death of my poor old mother, after a brief illness. Theblow, as may be supposed, affected me keenly, the more so because Icould not but feel that, all things considered, I had not been the sonto her that she deserved. Poor old lady, I never knew how much she wasto me until I had lost her. Her death, and the thought that I shouldnever see her loving face, or hear her gentle voice again, seemed tosever the one remaining link that united me to my old life. Could I, Iasked myself, be the same person as the little boy she took to school atPlymouth? Could I be the same John Ramsay who followed her into SirBenjamin Plowden's office, so many years ago? Yes--the same, but oh! howdifferently situated! With Virgil, I could well cry, "_O mihipraeteritos referat si Jupiter annos!_" Alas! those dear dead years, howbright they are to look back upon, yet how shamefully I misused them!
But in spite of the bitterness of the blow, I could not go on broodingover my loss for ever. My mother was gone, nothing could bring her backto me. It behoved me now to look after myself, for my necessities wereon the point of obtruding themselves upon my notice once more.
When I found that the money I had managed to save from my variousemployments was running short, I began to wonder how I should obtainanother situation. The prospect looked gloomy enough in all conscience,when Fate, which was steadily bearing me on towards a certain goal, tookme in hand again, and by permitting me to overhear a certainconversation, led me into a track that was fraught with much danger tomy future peace. The speakers were the owner of a Thursday IslandPearling schooner, and a well-known boat-builder. Their talk hadreference to a new lugger the skipper had lately purchased, and thedifficulty of finding hands to work her North. Here was the very chancefor me.
As soon as they separated, I accosted the Pearler, and offered myservices. When he heard my qualifications, he engaged me at once; and soit came about that next day I was a seaman aboard the _Crested Wave_,bound for Thursday Island and the Pearl fisheries.
I need not delay you while I enter upon any description of the voyagenorthwards, more than to say that we arrived safely at our destination,and having taken a diver aboard, at once set sail again, this time forthe Solomons, where we remained cruising about, with fair success, fornigh upon three months.
Though I had, on several occasions, crossed the Pacific in deep-waterships, this was the first time I had pottered about among the Islandsthemselves, and the new life came to me as a revelation. Even as I sithere writing, the memory of those glorious latitudes rises and sends athrill through me. There is a saying, that the man who has once knownthe Himalayas never forgets their smell; I say that the man who hasonce heard the thunder of the surf upon the reefs, who has smelt thesweet incense of the tropic woods, and felt the invigorating breath ofthe trade winds upon his cheek, can never rid his memory of thefascination of those Southern seas!
By the time we returned to Thursday Island a fair sum in wages was owingme, and I think I had won a good reputation with my skipper, for he wasanxious that I should take a holiday, and then set sail with him again.I resolved to think about it, and in the meantime to stretch my legs fora week or two ashore, seeing what was to be seen, and as far as possibleenjoying the peculiar delights of Thursday Island.
"Come with me," said a shipmate one evening. "You think because you'veseen the Japanese you know the Island. Why, man, you're only on theoutskirts; you don't even know Juanita!"
"And who's Juanita?" I asked, without interest, for I was wearied todeath of the Lizzies, Pollies, Nancies, and their sisterhood.
By way of reply he ran his arm through mine, and headed along the beach,presently to cry a halt alongside the palms which mark the entrance tothe "Orient" Hotel. Knowing this house to be the resort of mail-boatskippers, schooner-owners, and high-toned gentry of that class, and tohave a fleecing reputation, I had hitherto religiously avoided it. Aflood of bright light streamed from the doorway, and sounds of laughterinvited us to enter.
A couple of Pearlers and a woman were the only occupants of the room.The men were of no account, but the woman's face riveted my attention atonce. She was not exactly the most beautiful woman--I mean as far asrefinement went--that I had ever seen, but she was certainly thehandsomest. As we entered, her companions bade her "good-night," andwent out. Then my friend introduced me in proper form.
"Mr. Ramsay--Madame Juanita."
She held out her hand and bade me welcome, and from that moment I was alost man. What sort of fascination it was that she exercised over me Icannot say; I only know that when I left the "Orient" and stumbled outinto the starlit night again I had forgotten Maud, forgotten my ownimpoverished condition, forgotten my self-respect, and was madly,desperately, absurdly in love with this beautiful and mysteriouscreature.
