Jacob Faithful

by Frederick Marryat

  CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

  THE DOMINIE PROVES STAPLETON'S "HUMAN NATUR'" TO BE CORRECT--THERED-COAT PROVES TOO MUCH OF A MATCH FOR THE BLUE--MARY SELLS TOM, ANDTOM SELLS WHAT IS LEFT OF HIM, FOR A SHILLING--WE NEVER KNOW THE VALUEOF ANYTHING TILL WE HAVE LOST IT.

  I had often ruminated in what manner I could render the Dominie morecomfortable. I felt that to him I was as much indebted as to any livingbeing, and one day I ventured to open the subject; but his reply wasdecided.

  "I see, Jacob, my son, what thou wouldst wish: but it must not be. Manis but a creature of habit; habit becomes to him not only necessity butluxury. For five-and-forty years have I toiled, instilling precepts andforcing knowledge into the brains of those who have never proved so aptas thou. Truly, it hath been a painful task, yet can I not relinquishit. I might, at one time, that is, during the first ten years, have metthe offer with gratitude; for I felt the humiliation and annoyance ofwearying myself with the rudiments, when I would fain have commentedupon the various peculiarities of style in the ancient Greek and Latinauthors; but now, all that has passed away. The eternal round ofconcord, prosody, and syntax has charms for me from habit: the rule ofthree is preferable to the problems of Euclid, and even the Latingrammar has its delights. In short, I have a _hujus_ pleasure in _hic,haec, hoc; [cluck cluck;]_ and even the flourishing of the twigs of thattree of knowledge, the birch, hath become a pleasurable occupation tome, if not to those upon whom it is inflicted. I am like an old horse,who hath so long gone round and round in a mill, that he cannot walkstraight forward; and, if it pleases the Almighty, I will die inharness. Still I thank thee, Jacob; and thank God that thou hast againproved the goodness of thy heart, and given me one more reason torejoice in thee and in thy love; but thine offer, if accepted, would notadd to my happiness; for what feeling can be more consolatory to an oldman near into his grave than the reflection that his life, if notdistinguished, has at least been useful?"

  I had not for some time received a visit from Tom; and, surprised atthis, I went down to his father's to make inquiry about him. I foundthe old couple sitting in-doors; the weather was fine, but old Tom wasnot at his work; even the old woman's netting was thrown aside.

  "Where is Tom?" inquired I, after wishing them good morning.

  "Oh deary me!" cried the old woman, putting her apron up to her eyes;"that wicked good-for-nothing girl!"

  "Good heavens! what is the matter?" inquired I of old Tom.

  "The matter, Jacob," replied old Tom, stretching out his two woodenlegs, and placing his hands upon his knees, "is, that Tom has 'listedfor a sodger."

  "'Listed for a soldier!"

  "Yes; that's as sartain as it's true; and what's worse, I'm told theregiment is ordered to the West Indies. So, what with fever o' mind andyellow fever, he's food for the land crabs, that's sartain. I thinknow," continued the old man, brushing a tear from his eye with hisfore-finger, "that I see his bones bleaching under the palisades; for Iknow the place well."

  "Don't say so, Tom; don't say so!"

  "O Jacob! beg pardon if I'm too free now; but can't you help us?"

  "I will if I can, depend upon it; but tell me how this happened."

  "Why, the long and the short of it is this: that girl, Mary Stapleton,has been his ruin. When he first came home he was well received, andlooked forward to being spliced and living with us; but it didn't lastlong. She couldn't leave off her old tricks; and so, that Tom might notget the upper hand, she plays him off with the sergeant of a recruitingparty, and flies off from one to the other, just like the ticker of theold clock there does from one side to the other. One day the sergeantwas the fancy man, and the next day it was Tom. At last Tom gets out ofpatience, and wishes to come to a fair understanding. So he axes herwhether she chooses to have the sergeant or to have him; she might takeher choice, but he had no notion of being played with in that way, afterall her letters and all her promises. Upon this she huffs outright, andtells Tom he may go about his business, for she didn't care if she neversees him no more. So Tom's blood was up, and he called her a damnedjilt, and, in my opinion, he was near to the truth; so then they had aregular breeze, and part company. Well, this made Tom very miserable,and the next day he would have begged her pardon, and come to her terms,for, you see, Jacob, a man in love has no discretion; but she beingstill angry, tells him to go about his business, as she means to marrythe sergeant in a week. Tom turns away again quite mad; and it sohappens that he goes into the public-house where the sergeant hangs out,hoping to be revenged on him, and meaning to have a regular set-to, andsee who is the best man; but the sergeant wasn't there, and Tom takespot after pot to drive away care; and when the sergeant returned, Tomwas not a little in liquor. Now, the sergeant was a knowing chap, andwhen he comes in, and perceives Tom with his face flushed, he guesseswhat was to come, so, instead of saying a word, he goes to anothertable, and dashes his fist upon it, as if in a passion. Tom goes up tohim, and says, `Sergeant, I've known that girl long before you, and ifyou are a man, you'll stand up for her.' `Stand up for her; yes,'replied the sergeant, `and so I would have done yesterday, but theblasted jilt has turned me to the right about and sent me away. I won'tfight now, for she won't have me--any more than she will you.' Now whenTom hears this, he becomes more pacified with the sergeant, and they setdown like two people under the same misfortune, and take a pot together,instead of fighting; and then, you see, the sergeant plies Tom withliquor, swearing that he will go back to the regiment, and leave Maryaltogether, and advises Tom to do the same. At last, what with thesergeant's persuasions, and Tom's desire to vex Mary, he succeeds in'listing him, and giving him the shilling before witnesses; that was allthe rascal wanted. The next day Tom was sent down to the depot, as theycall it, under a guard; and the sergeant remains here to follow up Marywithout interruption. This only happened three days ago, and we onlywere told of it yesterday by old Stapleton, who threatens to turn hisdaughter out of doors."

  "Can't you help us, Jacob?" said the old woman, crying.

  "I hope I can; and if money can procure his discharge it shall beobtained. But did you not say that he was ordered to the West Indies?"

  "The regiment is in the Indies, but they are recruiting for it, so manyhave been carried off by the yellow fever last sickly season. Atransport, they say, will sail next week, and the recruits are to marchfor embarkation in three or four days."

  "And what is the regiment, and where is the depot?"

  "It is the 47th Fusiliers, and the depot is at Maidstone."

  "I will lose no time, my good friends," replied I; "to-morrow I will goto Mr Drummond, and consult with him." I returned the grateful squeezeof old Tom's hand, and, followed by the blessings of the old woman, Ihastened away.

  As I pulled up the river, for that day I was engaged to dine with theWharncliffes, I resolved to call upon Mary Stapleton, and ascertain byher deportment whether she had become that heartless jilt which she wasrepresented, and if so, to persuade Tom, if I succeeded in obtaining hisdischarge, to think no more about her; I felt so vexed and angry withher, that after I landed, I walked about a few minutes before I went tothe house, that I might recover my temper. When I walked up the stairsI found Mary sitting over a sheet of paper, on which she had beenwriting. She looked up as I came in, and I perceived that she had beencrying. "Mary," said I, "how well you have kept the promise you made tome when last we met! See what trouble and sorrow you have brought uponall parties except yourself."

  "Except myself--no, Mr Faithful, don't except myself, I am almost mad--I believe that I am mad--for surely such folly as mine is madness;" andMary wept bitterly.

  "There is no excuse for your behaviour, Mary--it is unpardonably wicked.Tom sacrificed all for your sake--he even deserted, and desertion isdeath by the law. Now what have you done?--taken advantage of hisstrong affection to drive him to intemperance, and induce him, indespair, to enlist for a soldier. He sails for the West Indies to fillup the ranks of a regiment thinned by the yel
low fever, and will perhapsnever return again--you will then have been the occasion of his death.Mary, I have come to tell you that I despise you."

  "I despise and hate myself," replied Mary, mournfully; "I wish I were inmy grave. Oh, Mr Faithful, do for God's sake--do get him back. Youcan, I know you can--you have money and everything."

  "If I do, it will not be for your benefit, Mary, for you shall triflewith him no more. I will not try for his discharge unless he faithfullypromises never to speak to you again."

  "You don't say that--you don't mean that!" cried Mary, sweeping the hairwith her hand back from her forehead--and her hand still remaining onher head--"O God! O God! what a wretch I am! Hear me, Jacob, hear me,"cried she, dropping on her knees, and seizing my hands; "only get himhis discharge--only let me once see him again, and I swear by all that'ssacred, that I will beg his pardon on my knees as I now do yours. Iwill do everything--anything--if he will but forgive me, for I cannot, Iwill not live without him."

  "If this is true, Mary, what madness could have induced you to haveacted as you have?"

  "Yes," replied Mary, rising from her knees, "madness, indeed--more thanmadness to treat so cruelly one for whom I only care to live. You sayTom loves me; I know he does; but he does not love me as I do him. O,my God! my heart will break!" After a pause, Mary resumed. "Read whatI have written to him--I have already written as much in another letter.You will see that if he cannot get away, I have offered to go out withhim as his wife; that is, if he will have such a foolish, wicked girl asI am."

  I read the letter; it was as she said, praying forgiveness, offering toaccompany him, and humiliating herself as much as it was possible. Iwas much affected. I returned the letter.

  "You can't despise me so much as I despise myself," continued Mary; "Ihate, I detest myself for my folly. I recollect now how you used tocaution me when a girl. Oh, mother, mother, it was a cruel legacy youleft to your child, when you gave her your disposition. Yet why shouldI blame her? I must blame myself."

  "Well, Mary, I will do all I can, and that as soon as possible.To-morrow I will go down to the depot."

  "God bless you, Jacob; and may you never have the misfortune to be inlove with such a one as myself."