CHAPTER XXXV.
_How we lost our poor Moll, and our long search for her._
We reached Alicante the 15th March, after a long, tedious voyage. Duringthis time I had ample opportunity for observing Moll, but with littlerelief to my gloomy apprehensions. She rarely quitted her father's side,being now as sympathetic and considerate of him in his sufferings, asbefore she had been thoughtless and indifferent. She had ever a gentleword of encouragement for him; she was ever kind and patient. Only onceher spirit seemed to weary: that was when we had been beating about inthe bay of Cadiz four days, for a favourable gale to take us through thestraits. We were on deck, she and I, the sails flapping the masts idlyabove our heads.
"Oh," says she, laying her hand on my shoulder, and her wasted cheekagainst my arm, "oh, that it were all ended!"
She was sweeter with me than ever she had been before; it seemed as ifthe love bred in her heart by marriage must expend itself upon some one.But though this tenderness endeared her more to me, it saddened me, andI would have had her at her tricks once more, making merry at myexpense. For I began to see that our happiness comes from within and notfrom without, and so fell despairing that ever this poor stricken heartof hers would be healed, which set me a-repenting more sincerely thanever the mischief I had helped to do her.
Dawson also, despite his stubborn disposition to see things as he wouldhave them, had, nevertheless, some secret perception of the incurablesorrow which she, with all her art, could scarce dissimulate. Yet heclung to that fond belief in a return of past happiness, as if 'twerehis last hope on earth. When at last our wind sprang up, and we werecutting through the waters with bending masts and not a crease in thebellied sails, he came upon deck, and spreading his hands out, cries injoy:
"Oh, this blessed sunlight! There is nought in the world like it--no,not the richest wine--to swell one's heart with content."
And then he fell again to recalling our old adventures and mirthfulescapades. He gave the rascals who fetched us ashore a piece more thanthey demanded, hugely delighted to find they understood his Spanish andsuch quips as he could call to mind. Then being landed, he falls toextolling everything he sees and hears, calling upon Moll to justify hisappreciation; nay, he went so far as to pause in a narrow street wherewas a most unsavoury smell, to sniff the air and declare he could scentthe oranges in bloom. And Lord! to hear him praise the whiteness of thelinen, the excellence of the meat and drink set before us at the posada,one would have said he had never before seen clean sheets or tasteddecent victuals.
Seeing that neither Moll nor I could work ourselves up (try as we might)to his high pitch of enthusiasm, he was ready with an excuse for us.
"I perceive," says he, "you are still suffering from your voyage.Therefore, we will not quit this town before to-morrow" (otherwise Ibelieve he would have started off on our expedition as soon as our mealwas done). "However," adds he, "do you make enquiry, Kit, if you can getyourself understood, if there be ever a bull to be fought to-day or anydiversion of dancing or play-acting to-night, that the time hang not tooheavy on our hands."
As no such entertainments were to be had (this being the season of Lent,which is observed very strictly in these parts), Dawson contentedhimself with taking Moll out to visit the shops, and here he speedilypurchased a pair of clappers for her, a tambour for himself, and aguitar for me, though we were difficult to please, for no clapperspleased Moll as those she had first bought; and it did seem to me that Icould strike no notes out of any instrument but they had a sad, mournfultone.
Then nothing would satisfy him but to go from one draper's to another,seeking a short petticoat, a waist-cloth, and a round hat to Moll'staste, which ended to his disappointment, for she could find none likethe old.
"Why, don't you like this?" he would say, holding up a gown; "to my eyes'tis the very spit of t'other, only fresher."
And she demurring, whispers, "To-morrow, dear, to-morrow," withplaintive entreaty for delay in her wistful eyes. Disheartened, but notyet at the end of his resources, her father at last proposed that sheshould take a turn through the town alone and choose for herself. "For,"says he, "I believe we do rather hinder than help you with our advice insuch matters."
After a moment's reflection, Moll agreed to this, and saying she wouldmeet us at the posada for supper, left us, and walked briskly back theway we had come.
When she was gone, Dawson had never a word to say, nor I either, fordejection, yet, had I been questioned, I could have found no betterreason for my despondency than that I felt 'twas all a mistake cominghere for happiness.
Strolling aimlessly through the narrow back ways, we came presently tothe market that stands against the port. And here, almost at the firststep, Dawson catches my arm and nods towards the opposite side of themarket-place. Some Moors were seated there in their white clothes, withbundles of young palm leaves, plaited up in various forms of crowns,crosses, and the like,--which the people of this country do carry tochurch to be blessed on Palm Sunday; and these Moors I knew came fromElche, because palms grow nowhere else in such abundance.
"Yes," says I, thinking 'twas this queer merchandise he would point out,"I noticed these Moors and their ware when we passed here a little whileback with Moll."
"Don't you see her there now--at the corner?" asks he.
Then, to my surprise, I perceived Moll in very earnest conversation withtwo Moors, who had at first screened her from my sight.
"Come away," continues he. "She left us to go back and speak to them,and would not have us know."
Why should she be secret about this trifling matter, I asked myself.'Twas quite natural that, if she recognised in these Moors some oldacquaintance of Elche, she should desire to speak them.
We stole away to the port; and seating ourselves upon some timber, therewe looked upon the sea nigh upon half an hour without saying a word.Then turning to me, Dawson says: "Unless she speak to us upon thismatter, Kit, we will say nought to her. But, if she say nothing, I shalltake it for a sign her heart is set upon going back to Elche, and shewould have it a secret that we may not be disheartened in our otherproject."
"That is likely enough," says I, not a little surprised by hisreasoning. But love sharpens a man's wit, be it never so dull.
"Nevertheless," continues he, "if she can be happier at Elche thanelsewhere, then must we abandon our scheme and accept hers with a goodshow of content. We owe her that, Kit."
"Aye, and more," says I.
"Then when we meet to-morrow morning, I will offer to go there, as if'twas a happy notion that had come to me in my sleep, and do you back meup with all the spirit you can muster."
So after some further discussion we rose, and returned to our posada,where we found Moll waiting for us. She told us she had found no clothesto her liking (which was significant), and said not a word of herspeaking to the Moors in the market-place, so we held our peace on thesematters.
We did not part till late that night, for Moll would sit up with us,confessing she felt too feverish for sleep; and indeed this was apparentenough by her strange humour, for she kept no constant mood for fiveminutes together. Now, she would sit pensive, paying no heed to us, witha dreamy look in her eyes, as if her thoughts were wandering faraway--to her husband in England maybe; then she would hang her head asthough she dared not look him in the face even at that distance; andanon she would recover herself with a noble exaltation, lifting her headwith a fearless mien. And so presently her body drooping gradually to areflective posture, she falls dreaming again, to rouse herself suddenlyat some new prompting of her spirit, and give us all her thoughts, alleagerness for two moments, all melting sweetness the next, with herpretty manner of clinging to her father's arm, and laying her cheekagainst his shoulder. And when at last we came to say good-night, shehangs about his neck as if she would fain sleep there, quitting him witha deep sigh and a passionate kiss. Also she kissed me mostaffectionately, but could say never a word of farewell to either ofus--hurrying to her chamber to weep, as I
think.
We knew not what to conclude from these symptoms, save that she might besickening of some disorder; so we to our beds, very down in the mouthand faint at heart.
About six the next morning I was awoke by the door bursting suddenlyopen, and starting up in my bed, I see Dawson at my side, shaking inevery limb, and his eyes wide with terror.
"Moll's gone!" cries he, and falls a-blubbering.
"Gone!" says I, springing out of bed. "'Tis not possible."
"She has not lain in her bed; and one saw her go forth last night as thedoors were closing, knowing her for a foreigner by her hood. Come withme," adds he, laying his hand on a chair for support. "I dare not goalone."
"Aye, I'll go with ye, Jack; but whither?"
"Down to the sea," says he, hoarsely.
I stopped in the midst of dressing, overcome by this fearful hint; for,knowing Moll's strong nature, the thought had never occurred to me thatshe might do away with herself. Yet now reflecting on her strange mannerof late, especially her parting with us overnight, it seemed not soimpossible neither. For here, seeing the folly of our coming hither,desponding of any happiness in the future, was the speediest way ofending a life that was burdensome to herself and a constant sorrow tous. Nay, with her notions of poetic justice drawn from plays, she mayhave regarded this as the only atonement she could make her husband; theonly means of giving him back freedom to make a happier choice inmarriage. With these conclusions taking shape, I shuffled on my clothes,and then, with shaking fear, we two, hanging to each other's arms forstrength, made our way through the crooked streets to the sea; andthere, seeing a group of men and women gathered at the water's edge somelittle distance from us, we dared not go further, conceiving 'twas adead body they were regarding. But 'twas only a company of fishersexamining their haul of fishes, as we presently perceived. So, somewhatcheered, we cast our eyes to the right and left, and, seeing nothing tojustify our fears, advanced along the mole to the very end, where itjuts out into the sea, with great stones around to break the surf. Here,then, with deadly apprehensions, we peered amongst the rocks, holdingour breath, clutching tight hold of one another by the hand, in terrorof finding that we so eagerly searched,--a hood, a woman's skirtclinging to the stones, a stiffened hand thrust up from the lappingwaters. Never may I forget the sickening horror of the moment when,creeping out amidst the rocks, Dawson twitches my hand, and points downthrough the clear water to something lying white at the bottom. Itlooked for all the world like a dead face, coloured a greenish white bythe water; but presently we saw, by one end curling over in the swell ofa wave, that 'twas only a rag of paper.
Then I persuaded Dawson to give up this horrid search, and return to ourposada, when, if we found not Moll, we might more justly conclude shehad gone to Elche, than put an end to her life; and though we couldlearn nothing of her at our inn, more than Dawson had already told me,yet our hopes were strengthened in the probability of finding her atElche by recollecting her earnest, secret conversation with the Moors,who might certainly have returned to Elche in the night, they preferringthat time for their journey, as we knew. So, having hastily snatched arepast, whilst our landlord was procuring mules for our use, we set offacross the plain, doing our best to cheer each other on the way. But Iconfess one thing damped my spirits exceedingly, and that was, having nohint from Moll the night before of this project, which then must havebeen fully matured in her mind, nor any written word of explanation andencouragement. For, thinks I, she being no longer a giddy, heedlesschild, ready to play any prank without regard to the consequences, but avery considerate, remorseful woman, would not put us to this anxietywithout cause. Had she resolved to go to her friends at Elche, shewould, at least, have comforted us with the hope of meeting her again;whereas, this utter silence did point to a knowledge on her part that wewere sundered for ever, and that she could give us no hope, but such aswe might glean from uncertainty.
Arriving at Elche, we made straight for the house of the merchant, Sidiben Ahmed, with whose family Moll had been so intimate previously. Herewe were met by Sidi himself, who, after laying his fingers across hislips, and setting his hand upon his heart, in token of recognition andrespect, asked us very civilly our business, though without any show ofsurprise at seeing us. But these Moors do pride themselves upon a stoicbehaviour at all times, and make it a point to conceal any emotion theymay feel, so that men never can truly judge of their feelings.
Upon explaining our circumstances as well as our small knowledge of thetongue allowed us, he makes us a gesture of his open hands, as if hewould have us examine his house for ourselves, to see that she was nothid away there for any reason, and then calling his servants, he bidsthem seek through all the town, promising them a rich reward if theybring any tidings of Lala Mollah. And while this search was being made,he entertained us at his own table, where we recounted so much of ourmiserable history as we thought it advisable he should know.
One by one the servants came in to tell that they had heard nothing,save that some market-men had seen and spoken with Moll at Alicante, buthad not clapt eyes on her since. Not content with doing us this service,the merchant furnished us with fresh mules, to carry us back toAlicante, whither we were now all eagerness to return, in the hope offinding Moll at the posada. So, travelling all night, we came to ourstarting-place the next morning, to learn no tidings of our poor Moll.
We drew some grain of comfort from this; for, it being now the third daysince the dear girl had disappeared, her body would certainly have beenwashed ashore, had she cast herself, as we feared, in the sea. Itoccurred to us that if Moll were still living, she had either returnedto England, or gone to Don Sanchez at Toledo, whose wise counsels shehad ever held in high respect. The former supposition seemed to me thebetter grounded; for it was easy to understand how, yearning for himnight and day, she should at length abandon every scruple, and throwherself at his feet, reckless of what might follow. 'Twas notinconsistent with her impulsive character, and that more reasonable viewof life she had gained by experience, and the long reflections on hervoyage hither. And that which supported my belief still more was that afleet of four sail (as I learnt) had set forth for England the morningafter our arrival. So now finding, on enquiry, that a carrier was to setout for Toledo that afternoon, I wrote a letter to Don Sanchez, tellinghim the circumstances of our loss, and begging him to let us know, asspeedily as possible, if he had heard aught of Moll. And in this letterI enclosed a second, addressed to Mr. Godwin, having the same purport,which I prayed Don Sanchez to send on with all expedition, if Moll werenot with him.
And now, having despatched these letters, we had nothing to do but toawait a reply, which, at the earliest, we could not expect to get beforethe end of the week--Toledo being a good eighty English leagues distant.
We waited in Alicante four days more, making seven in all from the daywe lost Moll; and then, the suspense and torment of inactivity becominginsupportable, we set out again for Elche, the conviction growing strongupon us, with reflection, that we had little to hope from Don Sanchez.And we resolved we would not go this time to Sidi ben Ahmed, but ratherseek to take him unawares, and make enquiry by more subtle means, wehaving our doubts of his veracity. For these Moors are not honest liarslike plain Englishmen, who do generally give you some hint of theirbusiness by shifting of their eyes this way and that, hawking,stammering, etc., but they will ever look you calmly and straight in theface, never at a loss for the right word, or over-anxious to convinceyou, so that 'twill plague a conjurer to tell if they speak truth orfalsehood. And here I would remark, that in all my observations of menand manners, there is no nation in the world to equal the English, for astraightforward, pious, horse-racing sort of people.
Well, then, we went about our search in Elche with all the slynesspossible, prying here and there like a couple of thieves a-robbing ahen-roost, and putting cross-questions to every simple fellow wemet,--the best we could with our small knowledge of their tongue,--butall to no purpose, and so another day w
as wasted. We lay under the palmsthat night, and in the morning began our perquisition afresh; nowhunting up and down the narrow lanes and alleys of the town, as we hadscoured those of Alicante, in vain, until, persuaded of the uselessnessof our quest, we agreed to return to Alicante, in the hope of findingthere a letter from Don Sanchez. But (not to leave a single stoneunturned), we settled we would call once again on Sidi ben Ahmed, andask if he had any tidings to give us, but, openly, feeling we were nomatch for him at subterfuge. So, to his house we went, where we werereceived very graciously by the old merchant, who, chiding us gently forbeing in the neighbourhood a whole day without giving him a call, prayedus to enter his unworthy parlour, adding that we should find there afriend who would be very pleased to see us.
At this, my heart bounded to such an extent that I could utter never aword (nor could Dawson either), for I expected nothing less than to findthis friend was our dear Moll; and so, silent and shaking with feverishanticipation, we followed him down the tiled passage and round the innergarden of his house by the arcade, till we reached a doorway, and there,lifting aside the heavy hangings, he bade us enter. We pushed by him inrude haste, and then stopped of a sudden, in blank amazement; for, inplace of Moll, whom we fully thought to find, we discovered only DonSanchez, sitting on some pillows gravely smoking a Moorish chibouk.
"My daughter--my Moll!" cries Dawson, in despair. "Where is she?"
"By this time," replies Don Sanchez, rising, "your daughter should be inBarbary."
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