CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.
I AM MADE VERY HAPPY--IN OTHER RESPECTS A VERY MELANCHOLY CHAPTER,WHICH, WE ARE SORRY TO INFORM THE READER, WILL BE FOLLOWED UP BY ONESTILL MORE SO.
I left Mary, and hastened home to dress for dinner. I mentioned thesubject of wishing to obtain Tom's discharge to Mr Wharncliffe, whorecommended my immediately applying to the Horse Guards; and, as he wasacquainted with those in office, offered to accompany me. I gladlyaccepted his offer; and the next morning he called for me in hiscarriage, and we went there. Mr Wharncliffe sent up his card to one ofthe secretaries, and we were immediately ushered up, when I stated mywishes. The reply was:--"If you had time to procure a substitute itwould be easily arranged; but the regiment is so weak, and the aversionto the West Indies so prevalent after this last very sickly season, thatI doubt if His Royal Highness would permit any man to purchase hisdischarge. However, we will see. The Duke is one of thekindest-hearted of men, and I will lay the case before him. But let ussee if he is still at the depot; I rather think not." The secretaryrang the bell.
"The detachment of the 47th Fusiliers from the depot--has it marched?And when does it embark?"
The clerk went out, and in a few minutes returned with some a papers inhis hand. "It marched the day before yesterday, and was to embark thismorning, and sail as soon as the wind was fair."
My heart sank at this intelligence.
"How is the wind, Mr G---? Go down and look at the tell-tale."
The clerk returned. "East North East, sir, and has been steadily sothese two days."
"Then," replied the secretary, "I am afraid you are too late to obtainyour wish. The orders to the port-admiral are most peremptory toexpedite the sailing of the transports, and a frigate has been now threeweeks waiting to convoy them. Depend upon it, they have sailed to-day."
"What can be done?" replied I, mournfully.
"You must apply for his discharge, and procure a substitute. He canthen have an order sent out, and be permitted to return home. I am verysorry, as I perceive you are much interested; but I'm afraid it is toolate now. However, you may call to-morrow. The weather is clear withthis wind, and the port-admiral will telegraph to the Admiralty thesailing of the vessels. Should anything detain them, I will take carethat His Royal Highness shall be acquainted with the circumstances thisafternoon, if possible, and will give you his reply."
We thanked the secretary for his politeness, and took our leave. Vexedas I was with the communications I had already received, I was much moreso when one of the porters ran to the carriage to show me, by thesecretary's order, a telegraphic communication from the Admiralty,containing the certain and unpleasant information, "Convoy to WestIndies sailed this morning."
"Then it is all over for the present," said I, throwing myself back inthe carriage; and I continued in a melancholy humour until MrWharncliffe, who had business in the city, put me down as near as thecarriage went to the house of Mr Drummond. I found Sarah, who was thedepository of all my thoughts, pains, and pleasures, and I communicatedto her this episode in the history of young Tom. As most ladies aresevere judges of their own sex, she was very strong in her expressionsagainst the conduct of Mary, which she would not allow to admit of anypalliation. Even her penitence had no weight with her.
"And yet, how often is it the case, Sarah, not perhaps to the extentcarried on by this mistaken girl; but still, the disappointment is asgreat, although the consequences are not so calamitous. Among thehigher classes, how often do young men receive encouragement, and yieldthemselves up to a passion, to end only in disappointment! It is notnecessary to plight troth; a young woman may not have virtuallycommitted herself, and yet, by merely appearing pleased with theconversation and company of a young man, induce him to venture hisaffections in a treacherous sea, and eventually find them wrecked."
"You are very nautically poetical, Jacob," replied Sarah. "Such thingsdo happen; but I think that women's affections are, to use your phrase,oftener wrecked than those of men. That, however, does not exculpateeither party. A woman must be blind, indeed, if she cannot perceive, ina very short time, whether she is trifling with a man's feelings, andbase, indeed, if she continues to practise upon them."
"Sarah," replied I, and I stopped.
"Well?"
"I was," replied I, stammering a little--"I was going to ask you if youwere blind."
"As to what, Jacob?" said Sarah, colouring up.
"As to my feelings towards you."
"No; I believe you like me very well," replied she, smiling.
"Do you think that that is all?"
"Where do you dine to-day, Jacob," replied Sarah.
"That must depend upon you and your answer. If I dine here to-day, Itrust to dine here often. If I do not dine here to-day, probably Inever may again. I wish to know, Sarah, whether you have been blind tomy feelings towards you; for, with the case of Mary and Tom before me, Ifeel that I must no longer trust to my own hopes, which may end indisappointment. Will you have the kindness to put me out of my misery?"
"If I have been blind to your feelings I have not been blind to yourmerit, Jacob. Perhaps I have not been blind to your feelings, and I amnot of the same disposition as Mary Stapleton. I think you may ventureto dine here to-day," continued she, colouring and smiling, as sheturned away to the window.
"I can hardly believe that I'm to be so happy, Sarah," replied I,agitated. "I have been fortunate, very fortunate; but the hopes youhave now raised are so much beyond my expectations--so much beyond mydeserts--that I dare not indulge in them. Have pity on me, and be moreexplicit."
"What do you wish me to say?" replied Sarah, looking down upon her work,as she turned round to me.
"That you will not reject the orphan who was fostered by your father,and who reminds you of what he was, that you may not forget at thismoment what I trust is the greatest bar to his presumption--his humbleorigin."
"Jacob, that was said like yourself--it was nobly said; and if you werenot born noble, you have true nobility of mind. I will imitate yourexample. Have I not often, during our long friendship, told you that Iloved you?"
"Yes, as a child you did, Sarah."
"Then, as a woman, I repeat it. And now are you satisfied?"
I took Sarah by the hand; she did not withdraw it, but allowed me tokiss it over and over again.
"But your father and mother, Sarah?"
"Would never have allowed our intimacy if they had not approved of it,Jacob, depend upon it. However, you may make yourself easy on thatscore by letting them know what has passed; and then, I presume, youwill be out of your misery."
Before the day was over I had spoken to Mrs Drummond, and requested herto open the business to her husband, as I really felt it more than Icould dare to do. She smiled as her daughter hung upon her neck; andwhen I met Mr Drummond at dinner-time I was "out of my misery," for heshook me by the hand, and said, "You have made us all very happy, Jacob;for that girl appears determined either to marry you or not to marry atall. Come; dinner is ready."
I will leave the reader to imagine how happy I was, what passed betweenSarah and me in our _tete-a-tete_ of that evening, how unwilling I wasto quit the house, and how I ordered a post-chaise to carry me home,because I was afraid to trust myself on that water on which the majorpart of my life had been safely passed, lest any accident should happento me and rob me of my anticipated bliss. From that day I was as one ofthe family, and finding the distance too great, took up my abode atapartments contiguous to the house of Mr Drummond. But the course ofother people's love did not run so smooth, and I must now return to MaryStapleton and Tom Beazeley.
I had breakfasted, and was just about to take my wherry and go down toacquaint the old couple with the bad success of my application. I hadbeen reflecting with gratitude upon my own happiness in prospect,indulging in fond anticipations, and then, reverting to the state inwhich I had left Mary Stapleton and Tom's father and mother, contrastingtheir misery with my joy, arising
from the same source, when, who shouldrush into the dining-room but young Tom, dressed in nothing but a shirtand a pair of white trousers, covered with dust, and wan with fatigueand excitement.
"Good heavens! Tom! are you back? then you must have deserted."
"Very true," replied Tom, sinking on a chair, "I swam on shore lastnight, and have made from Portsmouth to here since eight o'clock. Ihardly need say that I am done up. Let me have something to drink,Jacob, pray."
I went to the cellaret and brought him some wine, of which he drank offa tumbler eagerly. During this I was revolving in my mind theconsequences which might arise from this hasty and imprudent step."Tom," said I, "do you know the consequences of desertion?"
"Yes," replied he, gloomily, "but I could not help it. Mary told me inher letter that she would do all I wished, would accompany me abroad;she made all the amends she could, poor girl! and, by heavens, I couldnot leave her; and when I found myself fairly under weigh, and there wasno chance, I was almost mad; the wind baffled us at the Needles, and weanchored for the night; I slipped down the cable and swam on shore, andthere's the whole story."
"But, Tom, you will certainly be recognised and taken up for adeserter."
"I must think of that," replied Tom; "I know the risk I run; but if youobtain my discharge, they may let me off."
I thought this was the best plan to proceed upon, and requesting Tom tokeep quiet, I went to consult with Mr Wharncliffe. He agreed with methat it was Tom's only chance, and I pulled to his father's, to let themknow what had occurred, and then went on to the Drummonds. When Ireturned home late in the evening the gardener told me that Tom had goneout and had not returned. My heart misgave me that he had gone to seeMary, and that some misfortune had occurred, and I went to bed with mostanxious feelings. My forebodings were proved to be correct, for thenext morning I was informed that old Stapleton wished to see me. He wasushered in, and as soon as he entered, he exclaimed, "All's up, MasterJacob--Tom's nabbed--Mary fit after fit--_human natur'_."
"Why, what _is_ the matter, Stapleton?"
"Why, it's just this--Tom desarts to come to Mary. Cause why?--he lovesher--human natur'. That soldier chap comes in and sees Tom, clutcheshold, and tries to take possession of him. Tom fights, knocks outsergeant's starboard eye, and tries to escape--human natur'. Soldierscome in, pick up sergeant, seize Tom, and carry him off. Mary cries,and screams, and faints--human natur'--poor girl can't keep her headup--two women with burnt feathers all night. Sad job, Mister Jacob. Ofall the senses love's the worst, that's sartain--quite upset me, can'tsmoke my pipe this morning--Mary's tears quite put my pipe out,"--andold Stapleton looked as if he was ready to cry himself.
"This is a sad business, Stapleton," replied I. "Tom will be tried fordesertion, and God knows how it will end. I will try all I can; butthey have been very strict lately."
"Hope you will, Mister Jacob. Mary will die, that's sartain. I'm moreafraid that Tom will. If one does, t'other will. I know the girl--justlike her mother, never could carry her helm amidships, hard a port, orhard a starboard. She's mad now to follow him--will go to Maidstone. Itake her as soon as I go back to her. Just come up to tell you allabout it."
"This is a gloomy affair, Stapleton."
"Yes, for sartain--wish there never was such a thing as _human natur'_."
After a little conversation, and a supply of money, which I knew wouldbe acceptable, Stapleton went away, leaving, me in no very happy stateof mind. My regard for Tom was excessive, and his situation one ofpeculiar danger. Again I repaired to Mr Wharncliffe for advice, and hereadily interested himself most warmly.
"This is, indeed, an awkward business," said he, "and will require moreinterest than I am afraid that I command. If not condemned to death, hewill be sentenced to such a flogging as will break him down in spirit aswell as in body, and sink him into an early grave. Death werepreferable of the two. Lose no time, Mr Faithful, in going down toMaidstone, and seeing the colonel commanding the depot. I will go tothe Horse Guards, and see what is to be done."
I wrote a hurried note to Sarah to account for my absence, and sent forpost-horses. Early in the afternoon I arrived at Maidstone, and findingout the residence of the officer commanding the depot, sent up my card.In few words I stated to him the reason of my calling upon him.
"It will rest altogether with the Horse Guards, Mr Faithful, and I amafraid I can give you but little hope. His Royal Highness has expressedhis determination to punish the next deserter with the utmost severityof the law. His leniency on that point has been very injurious to theservice, and he _must do it_. Besides, there is an aggravation of theoffence in his attack upon the sergeant, who has irrecoverably lost hiseye."
"The sergeant first made him drunk, and then persuaded him to enlist."I then stated the rivalship that subsisted between them, and continued,"Is it not disgraceful to enlist men in that way--can that be calledvoluntary service?"
"All very true," replied the officer, "but still expediency winks ateven more. I do not attempt to defend the system, but we must havesoldiers. The seamen are impressed by force, the soldiers are entrappedby other means, even more discreditable: the only excuse is expediency,or, if you like it better, necessity. All I can promise you, sir, is,to allow the prisoner every comfort which his situation will permit, andevery advantage at his court-martial, which mercy, tempered by justice,will warrant."
"I thank you, sir; will you allow me and his betrothed to see him?"
"Most certainly; the order shall be given forthwith."
I thanked the officer for his kindness, and took my leave.
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