CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.
TREATS OF INTERESTING MATTERS.
Of course Charlie Christian gravitated towards Sally, and these two,falling slowly behind the rest, soon turned aside, and descended byanother of the numerous paths which traversed that part of the mountain.
Of course, also, Daniel McCoy drew near to Sarah Quintal, and these two,falling slowly behind, sought another of the mountain-paths. It will beseen that these young people were charmingly unsophisticated.
For a considerable time Charlie walked beside Sally without uttering aword, and Sally, seeing that there was something on his mind, keptsilence. At last Charlie lifted his eyes from the ground, and with thesame innocent gaze with which, as an infant, he had been wont to look upto his guardian, he now looked down at her, and said, "Sally."
"Well, Charlie?"
There was a little smile lurking about the corners of the girl's mouth,which seemed to play hide-and-seek with the twinkle in her downcasteyes.
"Well, Charlie, what are you going to tell me?"
"Isn't Toc--very--happy?"
He blushed to the roots of his hair when he said this, and dropped hiseyes again on the ground.
"Of course he is," replied Sally, with a touch of surprise.
"But--but--I mean, as--"
"Well, why don't you go on, Charlie?"
"I mean as a--a married man."
"Every one sees and knows that, Charlie." There was another silence,during which the timid youth cleared his throat several times. At lasthe became desperate.
"And--and--Sally, don't you think that _other_ people might be happy tooif they were married?"
"To be sure they might," said the girl, with provoking coolness."There's Dan McCoy, now, and Sarah Quintal, they will be very happywhen--"
"Why, how do _you_ know?"--Charlie spoke with a look of surprise andstopped short.
The girl laughed in a low tone, but did not reply, and the youth,becoming still more desperate, said--
"But I--I didn't mean Dan and Sarah, when I--Oh, Sally, don't you _know_that I love you?"
"Yes, I know that," replied the girl, with a blush and a littletremulous smile. "I couldn't help knowing that."
"Have I made it so plain, then?" he asked, in surprise.
"Haven't you followed me ever since you were a staggerer?" asked Sally,with a simple look.
"O yes, of course--but--but I love you far _far_ more now. In short, Iwant to marry you, Sally."
He had reached the culminating point at last. "Well, Charlie, why don'tyou ask father's leave?" said the maiden.
"And you agree?" he exclaimed, timidly taking her hand.
"Oh, Charlie," returned Sally, looking up in his face, with an archsmile, "how stupid you are! Nothing goes into your dear head withoutsuch a deal of hammering. Will you never become wise, and--"
Charlie became wise at last, and stopped her impudent mouth effectively;but she broke from him and ran into the woods, while he went down to thevillage to tell Adams.
Meanwhile Daniel McCoy led Sarah Quintal by a round-about path to thecliffs above Pitcairn.
Pretty little Sarah was timid, and had a vague suspicion of somethingthat caused her heart to flutter.
"I say, Sarah," said the bold and stalwart Dan, "did you ever see such ajolly couple as Toc and his wife before?"
"I never saw any couple before, you know," replied the girl, simply,"except father Adams and his wife."
"Well, they are an oldish couple," returned Dan, with a laugh; "but it'smy opinion that before long you'll see a good many more couples--youngones, too."
"Indeed," said Sarah, becoming much interested, for this was the firsttime that any young man had ventured to refer to such a subject, thoughshe and her female companions had often canvassed the possibilities thatsurrounded them.
"Yes, indeed," returned Dan. "Let me see, now. There's CharlieChristian and Otaheitan Sally--"
"Why, how did you come to know _that_?" asked Sarah, in genuinesurprise.
Dan laughed heartily. "Come to know what?" he asked.
"That--that he is fond of Sally," stammered Sarah.
"Why, everybody knows that," returned Dan; "the very gulls must be awareof it by this time, unless they are geese."
"Yes, of course," said the poor girl, blushing crimson at the thought ofhaving been led almost to betray her friend's confidences.
"Well, then," continued Dan, "Charlie and Sall bein' so fond o' oneanother--"
"I did not say that Sally was fond of Charlie," interrupted Sarah,quickly.
"Oh _dear_ no!" said Dan, with deep solemnity; "of _course_ you didn't;nevertheless I know it, and it wouldn't surprise me much if somethingcame of it--a wedding, for instance."
Sarah, being afraid to commit herself in some way if she opened herlips, said nothing, but gazed intently at the ground as they walkedslowly among the sweet-scented shrubs.
"But there's one o' the boys that wants to marry _you_, Sarah Quintal,and it is for him I want to put in a good word to-day."
A flutter of surprise, mingled with dismay at her heart, tended stillfurther to confuse the poor girl. Not knowing what to say, shestammered, "Indeed! Who can it--it--" and stopped short.
"They sometimes call him Dan," said the youth, suddenly grasping Sarah'shand and passing an arm round her waist, "but his full name is DanielMcCoy."
Sarah Quintal became as suddenly pale now as she had formerly becomered, and struggled to get free.
"Oh, Dan, Dan, don't!" she cried, earnestly; "_do_ let me go, if youlove me!"
"Well, I will, if you say I may speak to Father Adams about it."
Sarah's answer was quite inaudible to ordinary ears, but it caused Danto loosen his hold; and the girl, bounding away like a frightenedgazelle, disappeared among the palm-groves.
"Well," exclaimed Dan, thrusting both hands into his trousers-pockets ashe walked smartly down the hill, "you _are_ the dearest girl in all theworld. There can't be two opinions on that point."
Dan's world was a remarkably small one, as worlds go, but it was quitelarge enough to fill his heart to overflowing at that time.
In turning into another path he almost ran against Charlie Christian.
"Well?" exclaimed Charlie, with a brilliant smile. "Well?" repeatedDan, with a beaming countenance.
"All right," said Charlie.
"Ditto," said Dan, as he took his friend's arm, and hastened to theabode of John Adams, the great referee in all important matters.
They found him seated at his table, with the big Bible open before him.
"Well, my lads," he said, with a kindly smile as they entered, "you findme meditatin' over a verse that seems to me full o' suggestivethoughts."
"Yes, father, what is it?" asked Dan.
"`A prudent wife is from the Lord.' You'll find it in the nineteenthchapter o' Proverbs."
The youths looked at each other in great surprise. "It is verystrange," said Charlie, "that you should hit upon that text to-day."
"Why so, Charlie?"
"Because--because--we came to--that is to say, we want to--"
"Get spliced, Charlie; out with it, man. You keep shuffling about theedge like a timid boy goin' to dive into deep water for the first time."
"Well, and so it _is_ deep water," replied Charlie; "so deep that wecan't fathom it easily; and this _is_ the first time too."
"The fact is, you've come to tell me," said Adams, looking at Charlie,"that you want to marry Otaheitan Sally, and that Dan there wants tomarry Sarah Quintal. Is it not so?"
"I think, father, you must be a wizard," said Dan, with a surprisedlook. "How did you come to guess it?"
"I didn't guess it, lad; I saw it as plain as the nose on your own face.Anybody could see it with half an eye. Why, I've seen it for yearspast; but that's not the point. The first question is, Are you able tofeed your wives without requirin' them to work too hard in the fields?"
"Yes, father," answered Dan, promptly. "Charlie helped me
, and I helpedhim, and so we've both got enough of land enclosed and stocked to keepour--our--wives comfortably," (even Dan looked modest here!) "withoutrequiring them to work at all, for a long time at least."
"Well. I don't want 'em not to work at all--that's good for neitherman, nor woman, nor beast. Even child'n work hard, poor things, whileplayin' at pretendin' to work. However, I'm glad to hear you are ready.Of course I knew what you were up to all along. Now, you'll want toborrow a few odds an' ends from the general stock, therefore go an' makeout lists of what you require, and I'll see about it. Is it long sinceyou arranged it wi' the girls?"
"About half-an-hour," returned Dan.
"H'm! sharp practice. You'll be the better of meditation for a week ortwo. Now, get along with you, lads, and think of the word I have givenyou from God's book about marriage. I'll not keep you waitin' longerthan I think right."
So Dan and Charlie left the presence-chamber of their nautical ruler,quite content to wait for a couple of weeks, having plenty to keep thememployed, body and mind, in labouring in their gardens, perfecting thearrangements of their respective cottages, and making out lists of thevarious things they required to borrow. In all of which operations theywere lovingly assisted by their intended wives, with a matter-of-factgravity that would have been quite touching if it had not been halfridiculous.
The list of things to be borrowed was made out in accordance with asystem of barter, exchange, and loan, which had begun in necessity, andwas afterwards conducted on regular principles by Adams, who kept asystematic journal and record of accounts, in which he entered thenature and quantity of work performed by each family, what each hadreceived, and what each was due on account. The exchanges also weremade in a systematic manner. Thus, when one family had too many saltfish, and another had too much fruit or vegetables, a fair exchangerestored the equilibrium to the satisfaction of both parties; and whenthe stores of one family were exhausted, a fresh supply was raised forit from the general possessions of all the rest, to be repaid, however,in exact measure when the suffering family should be again in affluence,through good harvests and hard work. All details were minutely noteddown by Adams, so that injustice to individuals or to the community atlarge was avoided.
It is interesting to trace, in this well-conducted colony, the greatroot-principles on which the colossal system of the world's commerce andtrade has been reared, and to recognise in John Adams the germs of thoseprinciples of equity and method which have raised England to her highcommercial position. But still more interesting is it to recognise inhim that good seed, the love of God and His truth, spiritual,intellectual, and material, which, originated by the Holy Spirit, andfounded in Jesus Christ, produces the "righteousness that exalteth anation."
When the short period of probation was past, Charlie Christian becamethe happy husband of the girl whom he had all but worshipped from theearliest rememberable days of infancy, and Dan McCoy was united to SarahQuintal. As in the first case of marriage, Otaheitan Sall was olderthan her husband; but in her case the difference was so slight asscarcely to be worth mentioning. As to appearance, tall, serious,strapping Charlie _looked_ old enough to have been Sally's father.
The wedding-day was a day of great rejoicing, considerable solemnity,and not a little fun; for the religion of the Pitcairners, being drawndirect from the inspired Word, was the reverse of dolorous. Indeed, thesimplicity of their faith was extreme, for it consisted in merely askingthe question, "What does God wish me to do?" and _doing it_.
Of course the simplicity of this rule was, in Pitcairn as elsewhere,unrecognised by ignorance, or rendered hazy and involved by stupidity.Adams had his own difficulties in combating the effects of evil in thehearts of his children, for, as we have said before, they were by nomeans perfect, though unusually good.
For instance, one day one of those boys who was passing into thehobbledehoy stage of life, came with a perplexed air, and said--
"Didn't you tell us in school yesterday, father, that if we were goodJesus would save us?"
"No, Jack Mills, I told you just the reverse. I told you that if Jesussaved you you would be good."
"Then why doesn't He save me and make me good?" asked Jack, anxious tocast the blame of his indecision about his salvation off his ownshoulders.
"Because you refuse to be saved," said Adams, pointedly.
Jack Mills felt and looked somewhat hurt at this. He was one of thesteadiest boys at the school, always learned his tasks well, and wasgenerally pretty well behaved; but there was in him an ugly, half-hiddenroot of selfishness, which he did not himself perceive.
"Do you remember going to the shore yesterday?" asked Adams, replying tothe look,--for the boy did not speak.
"Yes, father."
"And you remember that two little boys had just got into a canoe, andwere pushing off to enjoy themselves, when you ran down, turned themout, and took the canoe to yourself?"
Jack did not reply; but his flushed face told that he had not forgottenthe incident.
"That's right, dear boy," continued Adam, "Your blood tells the truthfor you, and your tongue don't contradict it. So long's you keep theunruly member straight you'll get along. Well, now, Jack, that was asin of unkindness, and a sort of robbery, too, for the canoe belonged tothe boys while they had possession. Did you want to be saved from thatsin, my boy?"
Jack was still silent. He knew that he had not wished to be saved atthe time, because, if he had, he would have at once returned to theshore and restored the canoe, with an apology for having taken it byforce.
"But I was sorry afterwards, father," pleaded the boy.
"I know you were, Jack, and your guilty conscience longed forforgiveness. But Jesus did not come to this world to forgive us. Hecame to save us--to save this people from their sins; _His_people,--_forgiven_ people, my boy,--from their sins. If you had lookedto Jesus, He would have sent His Spirit into you, and brought His Wordto your mind, `Be ye kind one to another,' or, `Whatsoever ye would thatmen should do to you, do ye even so to them:' or in some way or other Hewould have turned you back and saved you from sin, but you did not lookto Jesus; in short, you refused to be saved just then, and thought tomake up for it by being sorry afterwards. Isn't that the way of it,Jack?"
"Yes, father," said Jack, with downcast but no longer hurt looks, forAdams's tone and manner were very kind.
"Then you know now, Jack Mills, why you're not yet saved, and you can'tbe good till you _are_ saved, any more than you can fly till you've gotwings. But don't be cast down, my lad; He will save you yet. Allyou've got to do is to _cease your opposition_, and let Him take you inhand."
Thus, or in some such way, did this God-appointed pastor lead his littleflock from day to day and year to year.
But to return from this digression.
We have said that the double wedding-day was one of mingled rejoicing,solemnity, and fun. If you insist on further explanation, good reader,and want to know something more about the rejoicing, we can only directyou to yonder clump of blossoming plants in the shade of the palm-grove.There you will find Charlie Christian looking timidly down into thegorgeous orbs of Otaheitan Sally as they hold sweet converse of thingspast, present, and to come. They have been so trained in ways ofrighteousness, that the omission of the world-to-come from theirlove-making, (not flirtation, observe), would be as ridiculous as theabsence of reference to the wedding-day.
On the other side of the same knoll Daniel McCoy sits by the side ofmodest Sarah Quintal, his only half-tamed spirit torn by the conflictingemotions aroused by a compound of jollity, love, joy, thankfulness, andfun, which render his words too incoherent to be worthy of record.
In regard to solemnity, reader, we refer you to the little school-room,which also serves for a chapel, where John Adams, in tones befitting abishop and with feelings worthy of an apostle, reads the marriageservice in the midst of the assembled population of the island. He hasa brass curtain-ring which did duty at the marriage of Thursday OctoberCh
ristian, and which is destined to do duty in similar circumstances inmany coming years. The knots are soon tied. There are no sad tears,for at Pitcairn there are no partings of parents and children, but thereare many tears of joy, for Adams's words are telling though few, and hisprayers are brief but deeply impressive, while the people, young andmiddle-aged, are powerfully sympathetic. The most of the girls breakdown when Adams draws to an abrupt close, and most of the youths find ithard to behave like men.
They succeed, however, and then the wedding party goes off to have aspell of fun.
If you had been there, reader, to behold things for yourself, it is notimprobable that some of the solemnity of the wedding would have beenscattered, (for you, at least), and some of the fun introduced too soon,for the costumes of the chief actors were not perfect; indeed, not quiteappropriate, according to our ideas of the fitness of things.
It is not that we could object to the bare feet of nearly all the party,for to such we are accustomed among our own poor. Neither could we findthe slightest fault with the brides. Their simple loose robes, flowinghair, and wreaths of natural flowers, were in perfect keeping with thebeauty of their faces. But the garb of guileless Charlie Christian wasincongruous, to say the least of it. During the visit of the _Topaz_ afew old clothes had been given by the seamen to the islanders, andCharlie had become the proud possessor of a huge black beaver hat, whichhad to be put on sidewise to prevent its settling down on the back ofhis neck; also, of a blue dress-coat with brass buttons, the waist andsleeves of which were much too short, and the tails unaccountably long;likewise, of a pair of Wellington boots, the tops of which did not, byfour inches, reach the legs of his native trousers, and thereforedisplayed that amount of brawny, well-made limbs, while the absence of avest and the impossibility of buttoning the coat left a broad, sunburntexpanse of manly chest exposed to view. But such is the difference ofopinion resulting from difference of custom, that not a muscle of anyface moved when he appeared, save in open admiration, though there wasjust the shade of a twinkle for one moment in the eye of John Adams, forhe had seen other, though not better, days.
Even Dan's excitable sense of the ridiculous was not touched. Himself,indeed, was a greater guy than Charlie, for he wore a richly-floweredvest, so tight that it would hardly button, and had been split up theback while being put on. As he wore a shell-jacket, much too short forhim, this accident to the vest and a portion of his powerful back wereclearly revealed.
But these things were trifles on that great day, and when the fun didbegin, it was kept up with spirit. First, the greater part of thepopulation went to the beach for a little surf-sliding. It is notnecessary to repeat our description of that exercise. The waves were insplendid order.
It seemed as if the great Pacific itself were pulsating with unwontedjoy. The billows were bigger grander, almost slower and more sedatethan usual. Outside it was dead calm. The fall of each liquid wall wasmore thunderous, its roar more deep-toned, and the confusion of the surfmore riotous than ever. For average rejoicers this exercise might initself have sufficed for one day, but they were used to it, and wantedvariety; so the youths took to racing on the sands, and the maidens toapplauding, while the elderly looked on and criticised. The smallchildren went, loosely speaking, mad.
Some there were who went off on their own accounts, and cast a few ofthose shadows which are said to precede "coming events." Others, lesspoetically inclined just then, remained in the village to prepare roastpig, yam-pie, and those various delicacies compounded of fruits andvegetables, which they knew from experience would be in great demand erelong.
As evening descended they all returned to the village, and at sunsethauled down their flag.
This flag, by the way, was another souvenir of the _Topaz_. It was anold Union Jack, for which Adams had set up a flagstaff, having by thattime ceased to dread the approach of a ship. By Jack Brace he had beenreminded of the date of the king's birthday, and by a strangecoincidence that happened to be the very day on which the two coupleswere united. Hence there was a double, (perhaps we should say atreble), reason for rejoicing. As John Adams was now endeavouring toundo the evils of his former life, he naturally became an enthusiasticloyalist. On passing the flagstaff he called for three cheers for theBritish king, and with his own voice led off the first verse of thenational anthem before hauling down the colours. Thereafter, assemblinground the festive board in the school-room, they proceeded to takephysical nourishment, with the memory of mental food strong upon them.Before the meal a profound hush fell on all the scene, and the deepvoice of Adams was heard asking a blessing on the food they were aboutto receive. Thanks were returned with equal solemnity after meat. Thenthe tables were cleared, and games became the order of the evening.When a point of semi-exhaustion was reached, a story was called for, andthe nautical pastor at once launched into oceans of imagination andfancy, in which he bid fair to be wrecked and drowned. During therecital of this the falling of a pin would have been heard, if there hadbeen such a thing as a pin at Pitcairn to fall.
Last, but not least, came blind-man's-buff. This exhausted the lastspark of physical energy left even in the strongest. But the mental andspiritual powers were still vigorous, so that when they all sat down inquiescence round the room, and Toc took down the family Bible from itsaccustomed shelf and set it before Adams, they were all, young and old,in a suitable state of mind to join in the worship of Him who had giventhem the capacity, as well as the opportunity, to enjoy that gloriousand ever memorable day.
The Lonely Island: The Refuge of the Mutineers Page 31
