Saved by the Lifeboat

by R. M. Ballantyne

  CHAPTER FIVE.

  THINGS BECOME SHAKY, SO DOES MR WEBSTER, AND THE RESULTS ARE AN ILLNESSAND A VOYAGE.

  The old Indian officer who was drowned, as we have seen, in the wreck ofthe _Swordfish_, was in no way connected with Mr John Webster. Infact, the latter gentleman read his name in the list of those lost withfeelings of comparative indifference. He was "very sorry indeed," as hehimself expressed it, that so many human beings had been swept off thestage of time by that "unfortunate wreck," but it did not add to hissorrow that an old gentleman, whom he had never seen or heard of before,was numbered with the drowned. Had he foreseen the influence that thedeath of that old officer was to have on his own fortunes, he might havelooked a little more anxiously at the announcement of it. But ColonelGreen--that was his name--was nothing to John Webster. What matteredhis death or life to him? He was, no doubt, a rich old fellow, who hadlived in the East Indies when things were conducted in a rather loosestyle, and when unscrupulous men in power had opportunities offeathering their nests well; but even although that was true it matterednot, for all Colonel Green's fortune, if thrown into the pile or takenfrom it, would scarcely have made an appreciable difference in thewealth of the great firm of Webster and Company. Not that "Company" hadanything to do with it, for there was no Company. There had been oneonce, but he had long ago passed into the realms where gold has novalue.

  There was, however, a very large and important firm in Liverpool whichwas deeply interested in the life of Colonel Green, for he had long beena sleeping partner of the firm, and had, during a course of years,become so deeply indebted to it that the other partners were beginningto feel uneasy about him. Messrs. Wentworth and Hodge would have givena good deal to have got rid of their sleeping partner, but Colonel Greencared not a straw for Wentworth, nor a fig for Hodge, so he went on inhis own way until the _Swordfish_ was wrecked, when he went the way ofall flesh, and Wentworth and Hodge discovered that, whatever riches he,Colonel Green, might at one time have possessed, he left nothing behindhim except a number of heavy debts.

  This was serious, because the firm had been rather infirm for some yearspast, and the consequences of the colonel's death were, that it becamestill more shaky, and finally came down. Now, it is a well understoodfact that men cannot fall alone. You cannot remove a small prop from alarge old tree without running the risk of causing the old tree to falland carry a few of the neighbouring trees, with a host of branches,creeping plants, and parasites, along with it. Especially is this thecase in the mercantile world. The death of Colonel Green was a calamityonly to a few tradesmen, but the fall of Wentworth and Company was amuch more serious matter, because that firm was an important prop to themuch greater firm of Dalgetty and Son, which immediately shook in itsshoes, and also went down, spreading ruin and consternation in the city.Now, it happened that Dalgetty and Son had extensive dealings withWebster and Company, and their fall involved the latter so deeply, that,despite their great wealth, their idolatrous head was compelled topuzzle his brain considerably in order to see his way out of hisdifficulties.

  But the more he looked, the less he saw of a favourable nature. Some ofhis evil practices also had of late begun to shed their legitimate fruiton John Webster, and to teach him something of the meaning of thosewords, "Be sure your sins shall find you out." This complicated mattersconsiderably. He consulted his cash-books, bank-books, bill-books,sales-books, order-books, ledgers, etcetera, etcetera, again and again,for hours at a time, without arriving at any satisfactory result. Hewent to his diminutive office early in the morning, and sat there lateat night; and did not, by so doing, improve his finances a whit,although he succeeded in materially injuring his health. He worried thelife of poor meek Grinder to such an extent that that unfortunate manwent home one night and told his wife he meant to commit suicide, beggedher to go out and purchase a quart of laudanum for that purpose at thefishmonger's, and was not finally induced to give up, or at least todelay, his rash purpose, until he had swallowed a tumbler of mulled portwine and gone to sleep with a bottle of hot water at his feet! Inshort, Mr Webster did all that it was possible for a man to do in orderto retrieve his fortunes--all except pray, and commit his affairs intothe hands of his Maker; _that_ he held to be utterly ridiculous. Tomake use of God's winds, and waves, and natural laws, and the physicaland mental powers which had been given him, for the furtherance of hisdesigns, was quite natural, he said; but to make use of God's word andHis promises--tut! tut! he said, that was foolishness.

  However that may be, the end was, that Webster and Company became veryshaky. They did not, indeed, go into the _Gazette_, but they got intovery deep water; and the principal, ere long, having overwrought all hispowers, was stricken with a raging fever.

  It was then that John Webster found his god to be anything but acomforter, for it sat upon him like a nightmare; and poor Annie, who,assisted by Mrs Niven, was his constant and devoted nurse, washorrified by the terrible forms in which the golden idol assailed him.That fever became to him the philosopher's stone. Everything wastransmuted by it into gold. The counting of guineas was the poor man'ssole occupation from morning till night, and the numbers to which heattained were sometimes quite bewildering; but he invariably lost thethread at a certain point, and, with a weary sigh, began over again atthe beginning. The bed curtains became golden tissue, the quilt goldenfiligree, the posts golden masts and yards and bowsprits, which nowreceded from him to immeasurable distance, and anon advanced, until hecried out and put up his hands to shield his face from harm; but,whether they advanced or retired, they invariably ended by beingwrecked, and he was left in the raging sea surrounded by drowning men,with whom he grappled and fought like a demon, insomuch that it wasfound necessary at one time to have a strong man in an adjoining room,to be ready to come in when summoned, and hold him down. Gold, gold,gold was the subject of his thoughts--the theme of his ravings--at thattime. He must have read, at some period of his life, and been muchimpressed by, Hood's celebrated poem on that subject, for he wasconstantly quoting scraps of it.

  "Why don't you help me?" he would cry at times, turning fiercely to hisdaughter. "How can I remember it if I am not helped? I have counted itall up--one, two, three, on to millions, and billions, and trillions ofgold, gold, gold, hammered and rolled, bought and sold, scattered anddoled--there, I've lost it again! You are constantly setting me wrong.All the things about me are gold, and the very food you gave meyesterday was gold. Oh! how sick I am of this gold! Why don't you takeit away from me?"

  And then he would fall into some other train of thought, in which hisgod, as before, would take the reins and drive him on, ever in the samedirection.

  At last the crisis of the disease came and passed, and John Websterbegan slowly to recover. And it was now that he formed a somewhat trueestimate of the marketable value of his daughter Annie, inasmuch as hecame at length to the conclusion that she was priceless, and that hewould not agree to sell her for any sum that could be named!

  During this period of convalescence, Annie's patience, gentleness, andpowers of endurance were severely tried, and not found wanting. Theresult was that the conscience of the invalid began to awake and smitehim; then his heart began to melt, and, ere long, became knit to that ofhis child, while she sought to relieve his pains and cheer his spiritsshe chatted, played, sang, and read to him. Among other books she readthe Bible. At first Mr Webster objected to this, on the ground that hedid not care for it; but, seeing that Annie was much pained by hisrefusal, he consented to permit her to read a few verses to him daily.He always listened to them with his eyes shut, but never by look orcomment gave the least sign that they made any impression on him.

  During the whole period of Mr Webster's illness and convalescence,Captain Harry Boyns found it convenient to have much business totransact in Liverpool, and he was extremely regular in his calls toinquire after the health of his late employer. This was very kind ofhim, considering the way in which he had been treated! Sometimes onthese
visits he saw Annie, sometimes he saw Mrs Niven--according as theone or other chanced to be on duty at the time; but, although he wasnever permitted to do more than exchange a few sentences with either ofthem, the most careless observer could have told, on each occasion,which he had seen, for he always left the door with a lengthened faceand slow step when he had seen Mrs Niven: but ran down the steps with aflushed countenance and sparkling eyes when he had met with Annie!

  At last Mr Webster was so much restored that his doctor gave him leaveto pay a short visit to his counting-room in the city.

  How strangely Mr Webster felt, after his long absence, when he enteredonce more the temple of his god, and sat down in his old chair.Everything looked so familiar, yet so strange! There were, indeed, theold objects, but not the old arrangements, for advantage had been takenof his absence to have the office "thoroughly cleaned!" There was thesame air of quiet, too, and seclusion but the smells were not so mustyas they used to be, and there was something terribly unbusinesslike inthe locked desk and the shut books and the utter absence of papers. Theportrait of his deceased wife's father was there, however, as grim,silent, and steadfast in its gaze as ever, so Mr Webster smiled, noddedto it, and rang a hand-bell for his confidential clerk, who enteredinstantly, having been stationed at the back of the door for full tenminutes in expectation of the summons.

  "Good morning, Mr Grinder. I have been ill, you see. Glad to getback, however. How has business been going on in my absence? Thedoctor forbade my making any inquiries while I was ill, so that I havebeen rather anxious."

  "Yes, sir, I am aware--I--in fact I was anxious to see you several timeson business, but could not gain admittance."

  "H'm! not going on so well as might be desired, I suppose," said MrWebster.

  "Well, not quite; in short, I might even say things are much worse thanthey were before you took ill, sir; but if a confidential agent weresent to Jamaica to--to--that is, if Messrs. Bright and Early were seenby yourself, sir, and some arrangement made, we might--might--go on forsome time longer, and if trade revives, I think--"

  "So bad as that!" exclaimed Mr Webster, musing. "Well, well, Grinder,we must do our best to pull through. Are any of our vessels gettingready for sea just now?"

  "Yes, sir, the _Ocean Queen_ sails for Jamaica about the end of thismonth."

  "Very well, Grinder, I will go in her. She is one of our best ships, Ithink. The doctor said something about a short voyage to recruit me, sothat's settled. Bring me writing materials, and send a statement ofaffairs home to me to-night. I have not yet strength to go into detailshere."

  Grinder brought the writing materials and retired. His employer wroteseveral letters; among them one to the doctor, apprising him of hisintention to go to Jamaica, and another to the captain of the _OceanQueen_, giving him the same information, and directing him to fit up thetwo best berths in the cabin for the reception of himself and hisdaughter, with a berth for an old female servant.

  Three weeks thereafter he went on board with Annie and Mrs Niven, andthe _Ocean Queen_, spreading her sails, was soon far out upon the broadbosom of the restless Atlantic.