Willis the Pilot : A Sequel to the Swiss Family Robinson

by Adrien Paul

  CHAPTER XXV.

  DELHI--WILLIAM OF NORMANDY AND KING JOHN--ISABELLA OF BAVARIA AND JOANOF ARC--POITIERS AND BOVINES--HISTORY OF A GHOST, A GRIDIRON, AND ACHEST OF GUINEAS.

  At first the three adventurers were regarded as prisoners of war;when, however, their entire history came to be known, and theirextraordinary migrations from ship to ship authenticated, they werelooked upon as guests, and treated as friends.

  "I thought I had only obtained possession of an English cruiser," saidthe captain; "but I find I have also acquired the right of beinguseful to you."

  The commander of the _Boudeuse_ was a very different sort of a personfrom Commodore Truncheon; the former treated his men as if every oneof them had a title and great influence at the Admiralty, whilst thelatter swore at his crew as if the word of command could not beunderstood without a supplementary oath. The English commodore mightbe the better sailor of the two, but certainly the French captaincarried off the palm as regards politeness, urbanity, and gentlemanlybearing.

  The wounds of Fritz and Jack were healing rapidly under the skilfultreatment of the French surgeon, and, with a lift from Willis, theywere able to walk a portion of the day on deck. With reviving health,their cheerful hopes of the future returned, their dormant spiritswere re-awakened, and their minds regained their wonted animation.

  "The corvette spins along admirably," said the Pilot, "and is steeringstraight for the Bay of Biscay."

  "Ah!" said Jack sighing, "it is very easy to steer for a place, but itis not quite so easy to get there. I am sick of your friend the sea,Willis; and would give my largest pearl for a glimpse of a town, avillage, or even a street."

  "If you want to see a street in all its glory, Master Jack, you musttry and get the captain to alter his course for Delhi."

  "But I should think, Willis, that there is nothing in thestreet-scenery of Delhi to compare with the Boulevards of Paris,Regent-street in London, or the Broadway of New York."

  "Beg your pardon there, Master Jack; I know every shop window inRegent-street; I have often been nearly run over in the Broadway, andcan easily imagine the turn out on the Boulevards; but they aresolitudes in comparison with an Indian street."

  "How so, Willis?"

  "Well, it is not that there are more inhabitants, nor on account ofthe traffic, for no streets in the world will beat those of London inthat respect--it is because the people live, move, and have theirbeing in the streets; they eat, drink, and sleep in the streets; theysing, dance, and pray in the streets; conventions, treaties, andalliances are concluded in the streets; in short, the street is theIndians' home, his club, and his temple. In Europe, transactions arenegotiated quietly; in India, nothing can be done without roaring,screaming, and bawling."

  "There must be plenty of deaf people there," observed Jack.

  "Possibly; but there are no dumb people. Added to the endlessvociferations of the human voice, there is an eternal barking of dogs,elephants snorting, cows lowing, and myriads of pigs grunting. Thenthere is the thump, thump of the tam-tam, the whistling of fifes, andthe screeching of a horrible instrument resembling a fiddle, which canonly be compared with the Belzebub music of Hawai. If, amongst thesediscordant sounds, you throw in a cloud of mosquitoes and a hurricaneof dust, you will have a tolerable idea of an Indian street."

  "There may be animation and life enough, Willis, but I should preferthe monotony of Regent-street for all that. Would you like to airyourself in Paris a bit?"

  "Yes, but not just now; the less my countrymen see of France, underpresent circumstances, the better."

  "What is England and France always fighting about, Willis?"

  "Well, I believe the cause this time to be a shindy the _mounseers_got up amongst themselves in 1788. They first cut off the head oftheir king, and then commenced to cut one another's throats, andEngland interfered."

  "That," observed Fritz, "may be the immediate origin of the presentwar [1812]. But for the cause of the animosity existing between thetwo nations, you must, I suspect, go back as far as the eleventhcentury, to the time of William, Duke of Normandy."

  "What had he to do with it?"

  "A great deal. He claimed a right, real or pretended, to the Englishthrone. He crossed the Channel, and, in 1066, defeated Harold, King ofEngland, at the battle of Hastings."

  "Both William and Harold were originally Danes, were they not?"inquired Jack.

  "Yes; I think Rollo, William's grandfather, was a Norman adventurer,or sea-king, as these marauders were sometimes called. William, afterthe victory of Hastings, proclaimed himself King of England and Dukeof Normandy, and assumed the designation of William the Conqueror."

  "Then how did France get mixed up in the affair?" inquired Willis.

  "William's grandfather, when he seized the dukedom cf Normandy, becamevirtually a vassal of the King of France, though it is doubtfulwhether he ever took the trouble to recognize the suzerainty of thethrone. As sovereign, however, the King of France claimed the right ofhomage, which consisted, according to feudal usage, in the vassaladvancing, bare-headed, without sword or spurs, and kneeling at thefoot of the throne."

  "Was this right ever enforced?"

  "Yes, in one case at least. John Lackland--or, as the French calledhim, John Sans Terre--having assassinated his nephew Arthur, Duke ofBrittany, in order to obtain possession of his lands, was summoned byPhilip Augustus, King of France, to justify his crime. John did notobey the summons, was declared guilty of felony, and Philip tookpossession of Normandy. Thus the first step to hostilities was laiddown."

  "The English having lost Normandy, the vassalage ceased."

  "Yes, so far as regards Normandy; but, in the meantime, Louis leJeune, King of France, unfortunately divorced his wife, Elenor ofAquitaine, who afterwards married an English prince, and addedGuienne, another French dukedom to the English crown."

  "So another vassalage sprung up."

  "Exactly. All the French King insisted upon was the homage; but EdwardIII. of England, instead of bending his knee to Philip of Valois,argued with himself in this way: 'If I were King of England and Franceas well, the claim of homage for the dukedom of Guienne would beextinguished.'"

  "Rather cool that," said Jack, laughing.

  "'We shall then,' Edward said to himself, 'be our own sovereign, anddo homage to ourself, which would save a deal of bother.'"

  "Well, he was right there, at least," remarked the Pilot.

  "The King of France, however, entertained a different view of thesubject. Hence arose an endless succession of sieges, battles,conquests, defeats, exterminations, and hatreds, which, no doubt, gaverise to the ill-feeling that exists at present between England andFrance. It is curious, at the same time, to observe what mischiefindividual acts may occasion. If William of Normandy had remainedcontented with his dukedom, and Louis le Jeune had not divorced hiswife, France would not have lost the disastrous battles of Agincourtand Poitiers."

  "Nor gained the brilliant victory of Bovines," suggested Jack.

  "Certainly not; but she would have been spared the indignity of havingone of her kings marched through the streets of London as a prisoner."

  "True; but, on the other hand, the captured monarch would not havehad an opportunity of illustrating the laws of honor in his ownperson. He returned loyally to England and resumed his chains, when hefound that the enormous sum demanded by England for his ransom wouldimpoverish his people: otherwise he could not have given birth to themaxim, 'That though good faith be banished from all the world beside,it ought still to be found in the hearts of kings.'"

  "One of the kings of Scotland," remarked Willis, "was placed in asimilar position. The Scottish army had been cut to pieces at thebattle of Flodden, the king was captured in his harness, conveyed toLondon, and the people had to pay a great deal more to obtain hisfreedom than he was worth. But, before that, the Scotch nearly caughtone of the Edwards. This time the English army had been cut to pieces;but the king did not wait to be captured, he took to his heels, orrather to his
horse's hoofs. He was beautifully mounted, and followedby half a dozen Scottish troopers; away he went, over hill and dale,ditch and river. Dick Turpin's ride from London to York was nothing toit. The king proved himself to be a first-rate horseman, for, afterbeing chased this way over half the country, he succeeded in bafflinghis pursuers. All these escapades between England and Scotland are,however, forgotten now, or at least ought to be; there are, doubtless,a few thick-headed persons in both sections of the empire who delightin keeping alive old prejudices, but they will die out in time."

  "It seems, however, they have not died away yet," said Fritz, "in sofar as regards France and England, since the two countries are at waragain. But, as I observed before, had it not been for the ambition ofWilliam and the anti-connubial propensities of John, the English wouldnever have been masters of Paris, and a great part of France underCharles VI."

  "Still, in that case," persisted Jack, "Charles VII. would not havehad the opportunity of liberating his country."

  "Then," continued Fritz, "history would not have had to record theshameless deeds of Isabella of Bavaria."

  "Nor chronicle the brilliant achievements of Joan of Arc," added Jack.

  "Any how," observed Willis, "the mounseers are a curious people. Ihave heard it remarked that they are occupied all day long in gettingthemselves into scrapes, and that Providence busies herself all nightin getting them out again."

  By chatting in this way, Fritz, his brother, and the Pilot contrivedto relieve the monotony of the voyage, and to pass away the timepleasantly enough. Each contributed his quota to the common fund;Fritz his judgment, Jack his humor, and Willis his practicalexperience, strong good sense, and vigorous, though untutoredunderstanding. A portion of Jack's time was passed with the surgeon,between whom a great intimacy had sprung up. Time did not, therefore,hang heavily on the hands of the young men; for even during the nighttheir thoughts were busy forming projects, or in embroidering thecanvas of the future with those fairy designs which youth alone cancreate.

  One morning Willis arrived on deck, pale, and with an air of fatigueand lassitude altogether unusual. He gazed anxiously into every nookand cranny of the ship.

  "Whatever is the matter, Willis?" inquired Jack. "Have you seen theFlying Dutchman?"

  "No, Master Jack," said he in a forlorn tone; "but I have either seenthe captain or his ghost."

  "What! the captain of the _Hoboken_?"

  "No; the captain of the _Nelson_."

  "In a dream?"

  "No, my eyes were as wide open as they are now; he looked into mycabin, and spoke to me."

  "Impossible, Willis."

  "I assure you it is the case though, impossible or not."

  "Where is he then?" exclaimed both the young men, starting.

  "That I know not; I have looked for him everywhere."

  "What did he say to you?"

  "At first he said, How d'ye do, Willis?"

  "Naturally; and what then?"

  "He asked me what I thought of the cloud that was gathering in thesouth-west."

  "Imagination, Willis."

  "But look there, you can see a storm is gathering in that quarter."

  "The nightmare, Willis. But what did you say to him?"

  "I could not answer at the moment; my tongue clove to the roof of mymouth, and I rose to take hold of his hand."

  "Then he disappeared, did he not?"

  "Yes, Master Jack."

  "I thought so."

  "But I heard the door of my cabin shut behind him, as distinctly as Inow hear the waves breaking on the sides of the corvette at thismoment."

  "You ought to have run after him."

  "I did so."

  "Well, did you catch him?"

  "No; I was stopped by the watch, for I had nothing on me but my shirt;the officers stared, the sailors laughed, and the doctor felt mypulse. But, for all that, I am satisfied there is a mysterysomewhere."

  "But, Willis, the thing is altogether improbable."

  "Well, look here; Captain Littlestone is either dead or alive, is henot?"

  "Yes," replied Jack, "there can be no medium between thesehypotheses."

  "Then all I can say is this, that as sure as I am a living sinner, Ihave seen him if he is alive, and, if he is dead, I have seen hisghost."

  "You believe in visitations from the other world then, Willis?"

  "I cannot discredit the evidences of my own senses, can I?"

  "No, certainly not."

  "Besides, this brings to my recollection a similar circumstance thathappened to an old comrade of mine. Sam Walker is as fine a fellow asever lived, he sailed with me on board the _Norfolk_, and I know himto be incapable of telling a falsehood. Though his name is SamWalker, we used to call him 'Hot Codlins.'"

  "Why, Willis?"

  "Because he had an old woman with a child tatooed on his arm, insteadof an anchor, as is usual in the navy."

  "A portrait of _Notre Dame de Bon Lecours_, I shouldn't wonder," saidJack; "but what had that to do with hot codlins: a codlin is a fish,is it not?"

  "I will explain that another time," said Willis, the shadow of a smilepassing over his pale features. "The short and the long of the storyis, that Sam once saw a ghost."

  "Well, tell us all about it, Willis."

  "But I am afraid you will not believe the story if I do."

  "On the contrary, I promise to believe it in advance."

  "Very well, Master Jack. Did you ever see a windmill?"

  "No, but I know what sort of things they are from description."

  "There are none in Scotland," continued Willis; "at least I never sawone there."

  "How do they manage to grind their corn then? There should be oats inthe land o' cakes, at all events," said Jack, with a smile.

  "Well, in countries that have plenty of water, they can dispense withmills on land. Though there are no wind-mills in Scotland, there aresome in the county of Durham, on the borders of England, for itappears my mate Sam was born in one of them. His father and motherdied when he was very young, and he, conjointly with the rats, wasleft sole owner and occupant of the mill. Some of the neighboringvillagers, seeing the poor boy left in this forlorn condition, got himinto a charity school, whence he was bound apprentice to a shipmasterengaged in the coal trade, by whom he was sent to sea. The ship youngSam sailed in was wrecked on the coast of France, and he fell into thehands of a fisherman, who put the mark on his arm we used to joke himabout."

  "I thought so," said Jack; "the mark in question represents the patronsaint of French sailors."

  "After a variety of ups and downs, Sam found himself rated as afirst-class seaman on board a British man-of-war. He served withmyself on board the _Norfolk_, and was wounded at the battle ofTrafalgar [1806], which, I dare say, you have heard of."

  "Yes, Willis, it was there that your Admiral Nelson covered himselfwith immortal renown."

  "There and elsewhere, Master Fritz."

  "It cost him his life, however, Willis, and likewise shortened thoseof the French Admiral Villeneuve and the Spanish Admiral Gravina;that, you must admit, is too many eggs for one omelet."

  "As you once said yourself, great victories are not won without loss,and the battle of Trafalgar was no exception to the rule. Sam, havingbeen wounded, was sent to the hospital, and when his wound was healed,he was allowed leave of absence to recruit his strength, so he thoughthe would take a run to Durham and see how it fared with the paternalwindmill. Time had, of course, wrought many changes both outside andin, but it still remained perched grimly on its pedestal, but nowentirely abandoned to the bats and owls. The sails were gone, and thewoodwork was slowly crumbling away; but the basement being of hewngranite, it was still in a tolerable state of preservation. The place,however, was said to be haunted; exactly at twelve o'clock at nightdismal howls were heard by the villagers to issue from the mill.According to the blacksmith, who was a great authority in suchmatters, Sam's father was a very avaricious old fellow, and had hidhis money somewhere about the
building; and you know, Master Jack,that when a man dies and leaves his money concealed, there is no restfor him in his grave till it is discovered."

  "I really was not aware of it before," replied Jack; "but I amdelighted to hear it."

  "When Sam arrived, nobody disputed his title to the property, exceptthe ghost; but Sam had seen a good deal of hard service, and declaredthat he would not be choused out of his patrimony for all the ghostsin the parish; and, in spite of the persuasions of the villagers,resolved to take up his abode there forthwith. Sam accordingly laid ina supply of stores, including a month's supply of tobacco and rum. Hefirst made the place water-tight, then made a fire sufficient to roastan ox, and when night arrived made a jorum of grog, a little stiff, tokeep away the damp. This done, he lit his pipe, and began to cook asteak for his supper. The old mill, for the first time since thedecease of the former proprietor, was filled with the savory odor ofroast beef."

  "And there are worse odors than that," remarked Jack. "Whilst thesteak was frizzling, he took a swig at the grog; and, thinking oneside was done, he gave the gridiron a twist, which sent the steak alittle way up the chimney, and, strange to say, it never came downagain.

  "'Ten thousand What's-a-names,' cried Sam, 'where's my steak?'

  "No answer was vouchsafed to this query; he looked up the chimney, andcould see no one."

  "The steak had really disappeared then?" said Jack, inquiringly.

  "Yes, not a fragment remained; but he had more beef, so he cut offanother; and, as his head had got a little middled with the grog, hethought it just possible that he might have capsized the gridiron intothe fire, so he quietly recommenced the operation."

  "And the second steak disappeared like the first?" "Yes, Master Fritz,with this difference--there was a dead man's thigh-bone in its place."

  "An awkward transformation for a hungry man," said Jack.

  "'Here's a go!' cried Sam, like to burst his sides with laughing,'they expect to frighten me with bones, do they? they've got the wrongman--been played too many tricks of that kind at sea to be scared bythat sort of thing. Ha, ha, ha! capital joke though.'"

  "Your friend Sam must have been a merry fellow, Willis."

  "Yes, but he was hungry, and wanted his supper; so he continuedsupplying the gridiron with steaks as long as the beef lasted, butonly obtained human shin-bones, clavicles and tibias.

  "'Never mind,' said Sam to himself, 'they will tire of this game incourse of time.'

  "When the beef was done, he kept up a supply of rashers of bacon, andthrew the bones as they appeared in a corner, consoling himself in themeantime with his pipe and his grog."

  "He must have been both patient and persevering," remarked Jack.

  "This went on till a skull appeared on the gridiron."

  "A singular object to sup upon," observed Jack.

  "'I wonder what the deuce will come next,' said Sam to himself,throwing the skull amongst the rest of the bones.

  "The next time, however, he took the gridiron off the fire, there washis last rasher done to a turn.

  "'Now,' said Sam, 'I am going to have peace and quietness at last.'

  "He sat down then very comfortably, and kept eating and drinking, anddrinking and smoking, till the village clock struck twelve."

  "Good!" cried Jack. "You may come in now, ladies and gentlemen; theperformance is just a-going to begin."

  "Sam heard a succession of crack cracks amongst the bones, and turninground he beheld a frightful-looking spectre, pointing with its fingerto the door."

  "Was it wrapped up in a white sheet?" inquired Jack.

  "Yes, I rather think it was."

  "Very well, then, I believe the story; for spectres are invariablywrapped up in white sheets."

  "The bones, instead of remaining quietly piled up in the corner, hadjoined themselves together--the leg bones to the feet, the ribs to theback-bone--and the skull had stuck itself on the top. Where the fleshcame from, Sam could not tell; but he strongly suspected that his ownsteaks and bacon had something to do with it. But, be that as it may,there was not half enough of fat to cover the bones, and the figurewas dreadfully thin. Sam stared at first in astonishment, and began todoubt whether he saw aright. When, however, he beheld the figure move,there could be no mistake, and he knew at once that it was a ghost.Anybody else would have been frightened out of their senses, but Samtook the matter philososophically and went on with his supper.

  "'How d'ye do, old fellow?' he said to the spectre. 'Will you have amouthful of grog to warm your inside? Sit down, and be sociable.'

  "The spectre did not make any reply, but continued making a sign forSam to follow.

  "'If you prefer to stand and keep beckoning there till to-morrow youmay, but, if I were in your place, I would come nearer the fire,' saidSam; 'you may catch cold standing there without your shirt, you know.'

  "The same silence and the same gesture continued on the part of theghost, and Sam, seeing that his words produced no effect, recommencedeating."

  "There is one thing," remarked Jack, "more astonishing about yourfriend Sam than his coolness, and that is his appetite."

  "The spectre did not appear satisfied with the state of affairs, forit assumed a threatening attitude and strode towards the fire-place.

  "'Avast heaving, old fellow,' cried Sam, 'there is one thing I havegot to say, which is this here: you may stand and hoist signals thereas long as ever you like; but if you touch me, then look out forsqualls, that's all.'

  "The 'old fellow,' however, paid no attention to this caution. Hestrode right up to the fire-place, and, whilst pointing to the doorwith one hand, grasped Sam's arm with the other. Sam started up, shookoff the hand that held him, and pitched into the spectre right andleft. But, strange to say, his hands went right through its bones andall, just as if it had been made of the hydrogen gas you spoke of theother day. Sam saw that it was no use laying about him in thisfashion, for the spectre stood grinning at him all the time, so hegave it up.

  "'I wish,' said he, 'you would be off, and go to bed, and not keepbothering there.'

  "Still the spectre maintained the same posture, and keptpertinaciously pointing to the door.

  "'Well,' said Sam, 'since you insist upon it, let us see what there isoutside. Go a-head, I will follow.'

  "The spectre led him into what used to be the garden of the mill, butthe enclosure was now overgrown with rank and poisonous weeds. Therewas a path running through it paved with flagstones; the spectrepointed with its finder to one of them. Sam stooped down, and, much tohis astonishment, raised it with ease. Beneath there was an ironchest, the lid of which he also opened, and saw that it was filledwith old spade guineas and Spanish dollars.

  "'You behold that treasure!' said the spectre, in a hollow voice.

  "'Ha, ha, old fellow! you can speak, can you? Now we shall understandeach other. Yes, I see a box, filled with what looks very like goldand silver coins.'

  "'I placed that treasure there before my death,' added the spectre.

  "'Ah, so! than you are dead?' said Sam.

  "'One half of that money I wish you to give to the poor, and the otherhalf you may keep to yourself, if you choose.'

  "'Golley!' said Sam, 'you are not much of a swab after all, though youlook as thin as a purser's clerk. Give us a shake of your paw, myhearty.'

  "Here Sam, somehow or other, stumbled over the lamp, and when he gotup again the spectre had vanished. He laid hold of the chest, however,and groped his way back to the mill. When safe inside, he made a stiffjorum of grog, and then fell comfortably asleep. That night he dreamtthat he was eating gold and silver, that he was his own captain, thatthe cat-o'-nine tails was entirely abolished in the navy, and that hisship, instead of sailing in salt water was floating in rum. When heawoke, the sun was steaming through all the nooks and crannies of theold mill. All the marks of the preceding night's adventures werethere--the gridiron, the empty rum jar, the the table o'erturned inthe _melee_ with the ghost--but the chest of money was gone." />
  "And what did Sam conclude from that incident?" inquired Fritz.

  "Well, he supposed that he had slept rather long, and that somebodyhad come in before he as up and had walked off with the box."

  "If I had been in his place," continued Fritz, "I should have said tomyself that the mind often gives birth to strange fancies,particularly after a heavy supper, and that I had muddled my brainwith rum; consequently, that all the things I imagined I had seen wereonly the chimeras of a dream."

  "But that could not be, Master Fritz, for two reasons; the first, thatthe mark of the ghost's hand remained on his arm."

  "Very likely burnt it when he grilled the bacon."

  "The second, that the ghost was no more seen or heard of in the mill."

  "That proof is a poser for you, brother, I think," said Jack.

  "Did you heave that sigh just now, Master Fritz?" inquired Willis, ina low tone.

  "It was not I," said Fritz, looking at his brother.

  "Nor I," said Jack, looking at Willis.

  "Nor I," said Willis, looking behind him.