Captain Mugford: Our Salt and Fresh Water Tutors

by William Henry Giles Kingston

  CHAPTER NINETEEN.

  LAST DAYS ON THE CAPE--A TERRIBLE NIGHT.

  And now, the time of our stay on the cape was drawing to a close. Onlythree days more remained, and they were to be occupied in collecting ourbooks, packing trunks, and all the unpleasant little duties that becomeso tedious and dispiriting when, like a drop curtain, they announce theend of the play.

  Perhaps if the days of our cape life had been prolonged, we should haveregretted the detention from home, and yearned for our dear parents,looking on the cape, that had already lost some of its attractions, assoon to become a dreary point beaten by winter winds and seas anddrifted across by the snow. But because we _must_ go, therefore it washard to go. What cannot be done, cannot be had, cannot be reached--thatis just what the boy wants. As we could not yet actually realise thedesolateness and barrenness of winter there, but only remember thedelights and beauties of summer and autumn, we lost cheerfulness overthe boxes and trunks, and sighed because of the brick walls, narrowstreets, and toilsome school-work that were soon to bound our lives.

  On a Wednesday we had been for our last afternoon's shooting on themoor. Our tutors had walked round to return their guns to the lendersover in the town. We strolled to the house through the fast fadingafternoon light, talking of the memorable events in our half-year justclosing.

  "Now, I think," said Drake, "that our boat-race was the best fun ofall."

  "I don't," Alf answered, "though we had a good time then, I know; butwhat is there to compare with the cruise and shipwreck?--the excitementlasted so long and came out all right."

  "Yes, it came out all right, but there was only a tight squeak that itdid not go all wrong. I tell you what, fellows, I was horriblyfrightened that night, before we struck on Boatswain's Reef," saidHarry.

  Each of us but Walter added, "So was I."

  "Walter, now you were frightened, too. Own now!" continued Harry.

  "No, I was not, really!" answered Walter. "Somehow I never feel afraidon the water; and I think it must be because I was born at sea, youknow, when our father and mother were returning from the West Indies.Now if I had been behind a pair of runaway horses, instead of aboard agood boat, I might have got shaky, I daresay."

  "Well, my opinion is," said I, "that just the best time of all wasfinding the smugglers' cave; but I am afraid that, after we are gone,they may come down hard on Clump and Juno, and when we have--"

  Walter interrupted me with "Nonsense, those fellows will know enough tokeep hid or give the cape a wide berth after this. But talking aboutthe good times we have had, I have enjoyed our shooting best of all, andso has Ugly, I'll bet--haven't you, Ugly?"

  To which our bright little dog answered as well as he could by barkingan assent, and jumping before us to wag his tail energetically.

  "Hallo!" Harry exclaimed, stopping, as he spoke, to look off to sea;"there's a rakish-looking lugger--don't you see?--just there, to thesouth-east, near Bass Rocks. I wonder what she is after."

  "After?" answered Drake, "why, probably running down to Penzance."

  "I don't know about that," said Harry, who continued to watch the vesselwith much interest; "it looks to me as if she were running close in, toanchor."

  "Well, let her anchor if she likes. There's nothing strange in that,when there's not wind enough to fly a feather;" and after a few momentsmore, in which we resumed our way to the house, Drake continued--

  "Haven't our tutors proved splendid fellows? I think the Captain is thefinest old chap that I ever came across; and when Mr Clare is aclergyman I should like to go to his church--shouldn't feel a bit likegoing to sleep then."

  To which we all gave a cordial assent, and, having reached the house,turned in there with the prospect of having some fun with Clump and Junobefore our tutors should return. I stood at the door a few minutes.Sure enough Harry was right. Though it was too dark now to distinguishanything more than a hundred yards away, I heard the running out of acable and then the lowering of the sails. "An odd place to anchor forthe night," thought I, and so did Ugly, who was beside me, for he gave alow, uneasy howl.

  Juno was laying the plates for tea, as I went in. After teasing her forawhile I joined the other boys. Soon Juno came out to the kitchen, andwhen she commenced to fry the hasty-pudding, we induced Clump to tell ussome of his sea adventures, in the middle of which Ugly set up a furiousbarking, and a moment afterwards there came a heavy rap at the frontdoor. It was the first time there had been a knock at a door of our oldhouse since we had been in it.

  Clump, leaving his story unfinished, took a candle, and Drake and Ifollowed him into the dining-room, which he had to cross to get to thefront door. But by the time we had entered the dining-room a strangerhad walked into the hall, and had also proceeded to open the dooropposite us. Ugly, who was greatly incensed, jumped forward and tookhold of a leg of the stranger's trousers.

  Our visitor was a small, rough, ugly man, with a terrible squint in hiseyes and a voice as unpleasant as his face. He had no collar, only ahandkerchief about his neck, and wore a large, shaggy flushing jacket.His first act was to kick Ugly halfway across the room, with thesalutation: "Take that, you damned cur, for your manners, damn you!"

  Ugly made at him again fiercer than ever, but I caught him in time andheld him.

  "Wat will you 'ab, sir?" asked Clump in a dignified voice.

  "What will I have, ay? I'll have that cur's life if he comes at meagin, and I want to know, old nigger, if,"--here the rough customer spitsome tobacco-juice on the floor--"I want to know if you kin 'commodatefour or five gents for the night, ay?"

  All of Clump's spirit was aroused, and he stammered as he replied--

  "No, mon; n-o-o-o! We dussen keeps no ho-o-o--hotel 'ere, we dussen.You'se find tabben ober end de town. Dis am Massa Tre-gel--Tre-gel--Massa Tregellin's privet mansion."

  "Ho! ho!" answered the man, slapping his hat down on his head andspitting again. "_Massa_ Tregellin's house, is it? Look here, boys,you just tell your dad, when you see him, that he has got a foolish,consequential nigger and a mean, tumbledown affair of a hut, if it can't'commodate some poor sailors. Howsumever, I'll go back to my lugger,and bad luck to your _mansion_! Old nig, look 'er here--perhaps we'llsee each other again." He looked slowly all round the room, and wentout, slamming the doors after him.

  Fifteen minutes afterwards our tutors came in, and when they heard ofour visitor Captain Mugford waxed wroth.

  "I wish I had been here," he exclaimed; "if I wouldn't have put thatscoundrel off soundings in about half a splice! The impudent fellow, toattempt to lord it in that style in a gentleman's house. What do youthink of it, Mr Clare, eh?"

  "Oh, not much, Captain Mugford. The man was probably tipsy, and was ofcourse a bully, or he would never have talked so before boys and a poorold negro. I am glad neither Walter nor Harry was in the room."

  "So am I, sir," said Walter; "we were in the kitchen and came in when weheard the loud talking, just as the man slammed the doors in going out.We could have done nothing more than order him out."

  After tea we boys went into the kitchen again, leaving our tutorsplaying at chess, which Mr Clare was trying to teach Captain Mugford.That kitchen was a favourite resort of ours in the evenings, and Clumpand Juno liked to have us there. There was a famous fire--three or fourfresh logs singing over a red mass of coal; plenty of ashes; and awhistled tune with a jet of smoke right from the heart of each stick.The brass fire-dogs were extra bright, reflecting the blaze on allsides. Some chestnuts and potatoes were roasting in the ashes, andClump had provided some cider to treat us to, this last night of ours onthe cape. So we pulled our chairs close around the fire, Clump sittingat one end, almost inside the chimney-place, smoking his pipe, and Junoat the other end, also almost inside the chimney-place, and smoking,too, her pipe. Hi! How they grinned, and chatted, and smoked. Afterawhile, when we had had a full hour of real fun, quizzing the old folks,telling stories, eating chestnuts and potatoes, drinking cider, andlis
tening to stories of the West Indies, Walter and Harry got up toclean their guns.

  "Wen you'se cum 'ere nudder time, 'spect dese ole black folks be gwine'way--be gwine 'crost de ribber Jordan?"--exclaimed Juno, with a longsigh.

  "Now, don't talk in that way," said Harry; "why, marm Juno, you andClump will live to dance at my wedding; see if you don't; and now, Juno,just give us a kettle of hot water, will you, to rinse out thesegun-barrels with."

  When the guns were washed, dried, and rubbed off with oil, I said toClump, "Have you got any bullets or buckshot?"

  "Don't know, Massa Bob--'spects so, en my ole tool-box."

  "Why," asked Drake, "what are you going to do, Bob, with bullets andbuckshot?"

  Clump was down on his knees in the closet, overhauling the tool-box hehad spoken of.

  "Well, Drake, I'll tell you if Clump finds the articles," I answered.

  "Have you got any, Clump?"

  "Yah, Massa, 'ere's a han'ful."

  "These bullets and buckshot," I continued, "are for Walter and Harry toload their guns with; for, just as sure as that fellow came here thisafternoon, just so sure, I believe, he will be back here before morningwith more like him."

  "What stuff," sang out Walter, laughing; "what puts that in your head,Bob?"

  "I don't know exactly what, Walter, but I suspect it, and I have notliked to say anything about it before, because I was afraid of beinglaughed at. But the more I think of it, the more certain I am that theman who was here to-night is one of the band of smugglers who owned thegoods taken through our means by the revenue men. There are others withhim, and, mark my word, they have not come back for nothing. Now do,fellows, load your guns. We needn't say anything and get laughed at,for the Captain will surely laugh if we tell him my suspicions. You cantake your guns upstairs, and then, if anything does happen beforemorning, you'll be all ready."

  "Well, Walter," said Harry, "suppose we do--it's good fun at any rate tomake believe that robbers, and outlaws, and smugglers, and all othersorts of odd visitors are coming--and--I cannot help owning that whatBob says sounds probable. So here go two bullets for this barrel, andnine buckshot for the other. Come, Walt, load up! Don't you shake inyour boots already? ugh!"

  "It is curious that we should have pretended to be smugglers ifsmugglers really do come. Probably that makes Bob fancy they will come;still, I wish that we had not frightened the old people so," saidWalter, loading his gun; and a few minutes later Mr Clare opened thekitchen door and called us in to evening prayers. As they always did,Clump and Juno assembled with us in the dining-room.

  There was something very impressive in those few moments before thechapter for reading was found. There was the sound of the turning overof the Bible leaves, and that of a light, pattering autumn rain without,(it had commenced after dark), besides the comfortable crackling of thewood-fire, and the occasional snapping of the fresh logs. The old,devoted, pious negroes; the rugged, benevolent Captain, with anexpression of thought and reverent waiting in his face; and we boys, sofull of youth and spirits, sat thinking--soberly, and perhaps solemnly--how neither sickness nor harm had come near us; what blessings ofpleasure, health, and strength had waited on us all during half a year;how those dear ones separated from us had been preserved from sufferingand calamity, and were hoping to meet us before another week hadcommenced; how the common ties and associations that had united us sohappily and so long were soon to be sundered. Those and many other--some graver, some lighter--thoughts, in those few seconds, occupied ourminds, whilst Mr Clare turned over the leaves beneath the table lamp,and then his clear, strong voice slowly and feelingly uttered the words:"I will say of the Lord, _He is_ my refuge and my fortress: my God; inHim will I trust. Surely He shall deliver thee from the snare of thefowler, and from the noisome pestilence. He shall cover thee with Hisfeathers, and under His wings shalt thou trust: His truth _shall_ be_thy_ shield and buckler. Thou shalt not be afraid for the terror bynight; nor for the arrow that flieth by day; nor for the pestilence thatwalketh in darkness; nor for the destruction that wasteth at noonday...Because thou hast made the Lord which is my refuge, even the Most High,thy habitation... For He shall give His angels charge over thee, tokeep thee in all thy ways. They shall bear thee up in their hands, lestthou dash thy foot against a stone... He shall call upon Me, and I willanswer him. I will be with him in trouble: I will deliver him andhonour him. With long life will I satisfy him, and show him Mysalvation."

  And when the prayers had ended, we separated quietly for our beds, theCaptain going off as usual to the brig.

  I turned the key in the hall-door as he went out--the first time such athing had been done during our stay on the cape. Ugly coiled himself upon the horsehair sofa in the dining-room, and in half an hour more, Isuppose, every soul in the old house was asleep.

  I dreamed that a lot of rabbits were in a hole together and making ahumming noise, which, I believed, was a whispering they were havingtogether, and I wanted to hear what they said, but that Ugly made such abarking I could not. I woke up, and, sure enough, Ugly was very noisyin the room below, barking regularly and harshly. No one else in thehouse seemed to be disturbed. There was a placid snoring in the attic,a pattering of rain on the roof, and a splashing of water, as it ran offsteadily in a stream to the ground. But in a minute or two, betweenUgly's barks I thought I heard something which recalled what I had beendreaming of, the rabbits whispering in their burrow. I listened. Yes,some persons outside the house were talking together in low voices. Icrawled to a window and looked out. There was an indistinct group ofthree or four persons standing by the rock, twenty yards from the house.Their talk was only a murmur of different voices in discussion,sometimes louder, sometimes fainter; but as I watched, one of the groupstruck a light, and I saw in the flash four or five or more figures, andthe face of the man who had entered the house in the evening, who wasnow holding a lantern to be lighted, and was also looking up at thehouse. It was a dark lantern, I suppose, for the light was shut up insome way after that. I shook each of the boys and told them to look outof the window, and then I ran into Mr Clare's room and woke him. Whenhe saw that some sort of robbery or attack was to be made on the house,he exclaimed, "I hope they do not know that the Captain is alone in thebrig," and ran downstairs to bolt all the doors and windows as securelyas they could be fastened, and awaken Clump and Juno, who slept in alittle room off the kitchen. Not a lamp was lighted in the house, butthe smugglers had heard the noises made, and now, talking and swearingaloud, approached the door and turned the handle. Being bolted within,they could not open it.

  "Hullo! hullo! I say, you Tregellin fellows, wake up!"--it was thevoice we had heard before--"wake up and let us in?"--it sounded as if heturned to his companions then, and laughed and mutteredsomething--"here's some decent sailor-boys as wants a drop and a bite,so wake up quick, boys and niggers!--let us in, I say, or we'll breakopen the doors, and break your bones into the bargain."

  At the conclusion of the speech, they all beat on the door and housewith fists and sticks, and laughed loudly at their leader's joke. MrClare now went down the narrow, creaking stairs again to the big doorthey were pounding against so fiercely, and from behind its defenceanswered the summons.

  "Men: this is a private house, and you must go away. You will getnothing here, and we are armed."

  "Hurrah!" they answered without. I shall omit the terrible oaths withwhich they loaded every breath they spoke. "Who are you, big voice?"

  "No matter," called out Mr Clare, "who I am. I suspect who you are,and we do not intend to let you get in here--that is all."

  "That's a lie--we'll be in in ten minutes and make your bass a squeak.If you don't open this 'ere door in a jiffy--we'll make grease-pots ofyou along with them niggers. Look what we'll do with your castle--justwhat we have been doing with the old hulk down there on the rocks."

  As he spoke, the darkness in the house withdrew to the holes andcorners, and flashes of red and white light shot
into every window andplayed on the walls, reflected from the midnight sky that had suddenlykindled to a blaze. The outlaws had set the old wreck on fire--our dearold school-house.

  Could the Captain be there, sleeping yet? or had they killed him?

  Ah! that doubt about Captain Mugford's safety magnified the danger ofour own situation to our imaginations. If those outlaws could burn, inmadness, such a harmless thing as the castaway brig, and could conquersuch a powerful man as our salt tute, what might they not do here to us?

  The hour--the yelling and swearing and banging at the doors--the luridglare flashing from the sky to show us each other's fear-stampedcountenances--those united to bewilder and appal us boys at least.

  Juno, too, was upstairs in our room, sitting on a low chair, perfectlysilent, but overcome by dread. But Clump, who now showed the courage hereally possessed, was active with Mr Clare downstairs, strengtheningevery window and door. He was not afraid. His old spirit was aroused,and, in the defence of his dear master's children, he was anxious toprove his courage and fidelity.

  "Harry," Mr Clare called up the stairs, "bring me your gun. I shallwant that down here. You say it is all loaded and ready, eh? Well,bring it down. Walter, you keep yours upstairs, and all you boys remainthere until it is necessary to come down; and now, Walter, don't fireunless there is absolute necessity. The rascals can't burn this houseunless they light the roof, and they can't stay here all night to dothat, for the light of the _Clear the Track_ will bring over some of thetownspeople. Poor Mugford! poor Mugford! Bob, you climb up to thatlittle window in the south gable-end, and see if you can detect anymovement about the wreck."

  Harry handed him the gun, and I climbed to the lookout, relinquishingUgly, whom I had been holding, to Juno's care. He had been ordered notto bark, so now he only panted fiercely and listened intently.

  The smugglers, after vain attempts at the front door--they could havesmashed in the windows, shutters, latches, glass, and all, but theirsmall size and height from the ground made them most dangerous to enterby when there were defenders within went round to the back of the house,and presently I heard a great ripping and banging of boards there, andMr Clare's voice call quickly--

  "If one inch of you enter there, I will fire--understand that."

  Then we heard a shot, but knew by the report that it was not Harry'sgun, and Drake called down the stairs, "Clump, who fired?"

  "De smugglers, Massa; one den shoot tru de winder at Massa Clare, buttank de Lor, the scoundrel miss."

  Just then I saw--and how the blood coursed with one cold sweep from myheart and back again--amid the hot flames of the burning wreck, CaptainMugford's figure. He sprang from the deck to the rocks and was rushingtowards the house. I turned and called the good news, but found thatJuno and I were alone. The others, too much excited and interested inthe contest to remain longer prisoners in the attic, had got on thestairway, and when I looked down on them Walter was on the bottom stepwith his gun cocked.

  Now many steps and the yelled-out blasphemy of the smugglers came roundthe house again to the front. Though, as we knew afterwards, tworemained to keep Mr Clare occupied there, whilst the three others wereto try the windows again.

  Captain Mugford must be near. Oh! that he could get here safely. Uglyjumped by me, and, uttering a savage bark, sprang downstairs and pastWalter. He had escaped from Juno's charge. As he flew about the roomsdownstairs, a whole sash and shutter in the south-east room were drivenin by a blow of an immense beam, and in another second half the body ofa smuggler was above the window-sill. But with a tremendous leap Uglyreached him and pinned him by the throat. They tumbled back together.Then we heard a new voice--Captain Mugford's!

  "You cowards, you hang-dogs, you scum of the sea, you dark-heartedblackguards--take that! Aye, villains!--and that!"

  Two pistol shots were heard. Harry jumped to open the door for CaptainMugford. Walter stood ready beside him with the gun. I ran with Draketo the open window, to see if harm had come to our dear salt tute, andAlfred had hurried in to where Mr Clare was alone guarding theback-door and broken windows, for he had sent Clump, not knowing of ourbeing downstairs and of the Captain's coming, to fight where we were.Clump had a short iron bar in his hands. I saw the man whom Ugly hadgripped fallen on his knees and cutting our gallant little dog from hisneck with a knife. One outlaw was stretched on the ground. Another wasstruggling with the Captain. He was a large, powerful fellow, andseemed to be getting the better of our now much-exhausted tutor. As Ilooked, the prostrate man rose, and both he and the one whom poor Ugly--now dead on the grass--had attacked came to help crush the Captain.Then the front door was flung open. Walter fired, and the man who hadkilled our brave dog dropped the knife he held, and, clasping his leftshoulder with his right hand, screamed out a terrible oath, and, yellingwith pain, ran from the struggle. At the same moment--all these events,from the time Captain Mugford arrived until the door was opened to admithim, not occupying probably three minutes--the Captain fell beneath hisadversary, whose fingers clutched his throat, and the infuriated outlawseemed determined to finish him. Walter could not fire again withoutshooting the very one for whose safety alone he would fire. But Clumpjumped out with his iron bar and struck the assailant on the head. TheCaptain was released just as I saw the other miscreant level a pistol atClump. I called, "Oh, Clump, Clump, take care!" With the sound of myvoice came the sharp, fatal crack of the pistol, and Clump fellback--_dead_!

  Two minutes more and all the smugglers were in full flight. The old,grey-headed, faithful, true-hearted Clump was dead, and Juno stretchedunconscious on her husband's body. Ugly, all hacked to pieces, lay in apool of blood, yet gasping. Captain Mugford, wounded, bruised, andexhausted, sat on the doorstep. Mr Clare was leaning over Clump with ahand on the pulseless heart. The burning wreck yet lighted the heavens,and the horrid scene at the very doorstep of our home of such a happyhalf-year.

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  A RETROSPECT AND FAREWELL.

  It is fifty years ago and some months since that rainy, bloody,flame-lit October night. And now this cold, wintery, blusteringmidnight, I--the Bob Tregellin of my story--sit writing this concludingchapter.

  There is a coal-fire glowing hot in the grate. There are shelves andshelves of books; easy-chairs sprawling their indolent figures here andthere; a curled-up bunch of fur purring in one; an old black setter-dogdreaming--as I can see by the whine in his quick breathing and thekicking of his outstretched legs--on a bearskin rug before the fire; anda circle of bright light from a well-shaded lamp falls about my table.Yes--but I shall get up now for a minute and take down the old musketand dog-collar, the sight of which always vividly recalls those happiestmonths of my life--Fifty Years Ago.

  As I replace them the storm without comes in a heavier, fiercer gust. Ihear it rush in a whirl up the street. I see it almost lift the heavycurtains over the window, as if it would come in and rest itself. Ihear it whistling through all the cracks and keyholes of the house--whistling dismally. Its voices, and the rumbling of a hack in someneighbouring street, remind me of storms I have heard, lying comfortablyin my snug attic bed in the old house on the cape--the wind and thewaves dashing up the rocky shore.

  That strong whiff disturbed pussy's and "the Captain's" (so I havecalled my old setter friend) nap, for puss stands up on her morocco bedand arches her back like a horseshoe, and then springs, with ajolted-out "mew-r-r-r," right on my table, and proceeds to walk overthis manuscript, carrying her tail up as if she wanted to light it bythe gas and beg me then to touch it to my pipe and stop scribbling. SoI shall presently. And the Captain strolls up to lay his cold nose onmy knee, slowly wag his silky tail, and look kindly into my face withthose soft, big eyes, as if he would say, "Come, master, don't below-spirited."

  You are right, old fellow! I was somewhat sad about leaving thepleasant companionship I have held through my pen with brothers andfriends of the old time, and a goodly number of those who are young now,whi
le I am so no longer, except in memory and heart. Youth has comeback with these pages, and perhaps you are tired with me, but I--I shallnever tire of the _young_--the glorious companionship of the pure,merry, brave hearts that look undaunted and without suspicion on thegreat road stretching far into the Future, and fading only to reappearin mirages of splendour in a brilliant sky.

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  There! I have smoked my pipe: and now, Miss Puss, stretch yourself inthe chair again, and you, Captain, resume that dream by the fire. Ihave got a few more lines to write before my invisible friends leave me.

  From that autumn night, 1830, to this winter night of 1872, no clue hasever been discovered to the murderers of faithful old Clump. AboutChristmas time of the same year Juno closed her earthly eyes in the oldCape House--to open them again, I fervently believe, in heaven.

  Mr Clare lives--a venerable clergyman in one of our great cities--hishead and heart yet labouring earnestly in the Great Cause he serves.

  Captain Mugford sleeps in the home of his adoption--the ocean. Fiveyears after our six months together he sailed from Bristol as boatswainof a splendid ship for the Pacific. A fortnight after, he was spoken bya homeward-bound brig, and that was the last ever heard of honest RolandMugford, or the ship he sailed in. I hope seas, winds, andundercurrents, however rough they may have been, left undisturbed thered bandanna and the short black pipe. And we feel sure that themother's prayers were answered, and that the boy who ran away from herin his youth came back to her,--whither her memory was a beacon light--the Eternal Harbour, unstirred by storms.

  Walter is a man of eminence--a diplomatist--and Harry a merchant, acheerful, generous-hearted man, whose name is the synonym of honour, andwhose hands "to do good, and to distribute, forget not."

  Drake, who entered the army after travelling in every strange and dimcorner of the globe--frozen up in the Arctic Seas, perspiring in theinterior of Africa, exploring among the western wilds of the RockyMountains, and doing other things adventurous in every out-of-the-waypart--finally went with all his honest, hot zeal to India, where,fighting his country's battles, he spent many years of his life, andcame back a general and one-legged man. Now he _stumps_ about in thissame library, but manages to take me travelling thousands of never-wearymiles; and many and many a time do we walk, and shoot, and swim, andrace, and fight over and over again that happy time at the cape.

  Poor Alfred--the best of all of us--died before his thirtieth year,nursed by a few devoted Africans, at his missionary station in thesouthern Atlantic.

  And I, whom the general calls "Vieux Moustache," have finished an oldBoy's Story of "Our Salt and Fresh Water Tutors."

  THE END.