Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval Officer

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Frank Mildmay; Or, the Naval Officer Page 9

by Frederick Marryat


  CHAPTER NINE.

  How happy could I be with either, Were t'other dear charmer away! "BEGGAR'S OPERA."

  Hell, they say, is paved with good intentions. If so, it has a muchbetter pavement than it deserves; for the "trail of the serpent is overus all." Then why send to hell the greatest proof of our perfectionbefore the fall, and of weakness subsequent to it? Honest and sincereprofessions of amendment must carry with them to the Throne of Grace astrong recommendation, even if we are again led astray by theallurements of sense and the snares of the world. At least, our tearsof contrition and repentance, our sorrow for the past, and our firmresolves for the future, must have given "joy in heaven," andconsequently cannot have been converted into pavement for the infernalregions.

  Pleasure and pain, in youth, are, for the most part, transientimpressions, whether they arise from possession or loss of worldlyenjoyment, or from a sense of having done well or ill in our career.The excitement, though strong, is not durable; and thus it was with me.I had not been more than four days on board the ship of the line inwhich I took my passage to England, when I felt my spirits buoyant, andmy levity almost amounting to delirium. The hours of reflection were atfirst shortened, and then dismissed entirely. The general mirth of mynew shipmates, at the thoughts of once more revisiting their dear nativeland, the anticipation of indulging in the sensual worship of Bacchusand Venus, the constant theme of discourse among the midshipmen--theloud and senseless applause bestowed upon the coarsest ribaldry--theseall had their share in destroying that religious frame of mind in whichI had parted with my first captain, and seemed to awaken me to a senseof the folly I had been guilty of in quitting a ship where I was notonly at the head of my mess, but in a fair way for promotion. Iconsidered that I had acted the part of a madman, and had again begun torenew my career of sin and of folly, a little, and but a little, soberedby the recent event.

  We arrived in England after the usual passage from the Rock. Iconsented to pass two days at Portsmouth, with my new companions, torevisit our old haunts, and to commit those excesses which fools andknaves applauded and partook of at my expense, leaving me full leisureto repent, after we separated. I, however, did muster resolution enoughto pack my trunk; and, after an extravagant supper at the Fountain,retired to bed intoxicated, and the next morning, with an aching head,threw myself into the coach and drove off for London. A day of muchhilarity is generally succeeded by one of depression. This is fair andnatural; we draw too largely on our stock, and squander our enjoymentlike our money, leaving us the next day with low spirits and a lowerpurse.

  A stupid dejection succeeded the boisterous mirth of the overnight. Islumbered in a corner of the coach till about one o'clock, when wereached Godalming, where I alighted, took a slight refreshment, andresumed my seat. As we drove along, I had more leisure, and was in afitter frame of mind to review my past conduct since I had quitted myship at Gibraltar. My self-examination, as usual, produced nosatisfactory results. I perceived that the example of bad company hadswept away every trace of good resolution which I had made on the deathof my mother. I saw with grief, that I had no dependence on myself; Ihad forgotten all my good intentions, and the firm vows of amendmentwith which I had bound myself, and had yielded to the first temptationwhich came in my way.

  In vain did I call up every black and threatening cloud of domesticsorrow which was to meet me on my return home--the dreadful vacuumoccasioned by my mother's death--the grief of my father--my brother andmy sisters in deep mourning, and the couch on which I had left the bestof parents when I turned away my thoughtless head from her in theanguish of her grief. I renewed my promise of amendment, and felt somesecret consolation in doing so.

  When I arrived at my father's door, the servant who let me in greeted mewith a loud and hearty welcome. I ran into the drawing-room, where Ifound that my brother and sisters had a party of children to spend theevening with them. They were dancing to the music of a piano, played onby my aunt, while my father sat in his arm-chair, in high good humour.

  This was a very different scene from what I had expected. I wasprepared for a sentimental and affecting meeting; and my feelings wereall worked up to their full bearing for the occasion. Judge then of thesudden revulsion in my mind, when I found mirth and good humour where Iexpected tears and lamentations. It had escaped my recollection, thatalthough the death of my mother was an event new to me, it had happenedsix months before I had heard of it; and, consequently, with them griefhad given way to time. I was astonished at their apparent want offeeling; while they gazed with surprise at the sight of me, and thesymbols of woe displayed in my equipment.

  My father welcomed me with surprise; asked where my ship was, and whathad brought her home. The fact was, that in my sudden determination toreturn to England, I had spared myself the trouble of writing to makeknown my intentions; and, indeed, if I had written, I should havearrived as soon as my letter, unless (which I ought to have done) I hadwritten on my arrival at Portsmouth, instead of throwing away my time inthe very worst species of dissipation. Unable, therefore, in thepresence of many witnesses, to give my father that explanation which hehad a right to expect, I suffered greatly for a time in his opinion. Hevery naturally supposed that some disgraceful conduct on my part was thecause of my sudden return. His brow became clouded and his mind seemedoccupied with deep reflection.

  This behaviour of my father, together with the continued considerablenoisy mirth of my brother and sisters, gave me pain. I felt as if, inthe sad news of my mother's death, I had over-acted my part in thefeeling I had shown, and the sacrifice I had made in quitting my ship.On explaining to my father, in private, the motives of my conduct, I wasnot successful. He could not believe that my mother's death was thesole cause of my return to England. I stood many firm and angryinterrogations as to the possible good which could accrue to me byquitting my ship. I showed him the captain's handsome certificate,which only mortified him the more. In vain did I plead my excess offeeling. He replied with an argument that I feel to have beenunanswerable--that I had quitted the ship when on the very pinnacle offavour, and in the road to fortune. "And what," said he, "is to becomeof the navy and the country, if every officer is to return home when hereceives the news of the death of a relation?"

  In proportion as my father's arguments carried conviction, they didaway, at the same time, with all the good impressions of my mother'sdying injunction. If her death was a matter of so little importance,her last words were equally so; and from that moment I ceased to thinkof either. My father's treatment of me was now very different from whatit had ever been during my mother's lifetime. My requests were harshlyrefused, and I was lectured more as a child than as a lad of _eighteen_,who had seen much of the world. Coldness on his part was met by aspirit of resistance on mine. Pride came in to my assistance. Adispute arose one evening, at the finale of which I gave him tounderstand that if I could not live quietly under his roof, I would quitit. He calmly recommended me to do so. Little supposing that I shouldhave taken his advice, I left the room, banging the door after me,packed up a few changes of linen, and took my departure, unperceived byany one, with my bundle on my shoulder, and about sixteen shillings inmy pocket.

  Here was a great mismanagement on the part of my father, and stillgreater on mine. He was anxious to get me afloat again, and I had nosort of objection to going; but his impatience and my pride spoiled all.Reflection soon came to me, but came too late. Night was fastapproaching: I had no house over my head, and my exchequer was in novery flourishing condition. I had walked six miles from my father'shouse, when I began to tire. It became dark, and I had no fixed plan.A gentleman's carriage came by; I took up a position in the rear of it,and had ridden four miles, when, as the carriage was slowly dragging upa hill, I was discovered by the parties inside; and the postilion, whohad dismounted and been informed of it, saluted me with two or threesmart cuts of his whip, intimating that I was of no use, but rather anincumbrance which could be dispense
d with.

  My readers know that I had long since adopted the motto of our northernneighbours, _Nemo me_, etcetera; so waiting very quietly till the driverhad mounted his horses, at the top of the hill, that he might be more atmy mercy, I discharged a stone at his head which caused him to vacatehis seat, and fall under his horse's belly. The animals, frightened athis fall, turned short round to the right, or they would have gone overhim, and ran furiously down the hill. The post-boy, recovering hislegs, followed his horses without bestowing a thought on the author ofthe mischief; and I made all the haste I could in the oppositedirection, perfectly indifferent as to the fate of the parties inside ofthe carriage, for I still smarted with the blows I had received.

  "Fools, and unkind," muttered I, looking back, as they disappeared atthe bottom of the hill, with frightful velocity, "you are rightlyserved. I was a trespasser, 'tis true, but a civil request would havehad all the effect you required--that of inducing me to get down; but awhip to me--" And with my blood still boiling at the recollection, Ihastily pursued my journey.

  In a few minutes I reached the little town of ---, the lights of whichwere visible at the time the horses had turned down the hill and ranaway. Entering the first inn I came to, I found the large room belowoccupied by a set of strolling players, who had just returned from asuccessful performance of "Romeo and Juliet"; and, from the excitementamong them, it was easy to perceive that their success had been fullyequal to their expectations. They were fourteen in number, seated rounda table, not indifferently covered with the good things of this life;they were clad in theatrical costume, which, with the rapid circulationof the bottle, gave the whole scene an air of romantic freedom,calculated to interest the mind of a thoughtless half-pay midshipman.

  Being hungry after my walk, I determined to join the party at supper,which, being a table d'hote was easily effected. One of the actresses,a sweet little, well-proportioned creature, with large black eyes, wasreceiving, with apparent indifference, the compliments of the bettersort of bumpkins and young farmers of the neighbourhood. In hermomentary and occasional smiles, she discovered a beautiful set ofsmall, white teeth; but when she resumed her pensive attitude, I wassensible of an enchanting air of melancholy, which deeply interested mein favour of this poor girl, who was evidently in a lower situation inlife than that for which she had been educated. The person who satnearest to her, vacated his seat as soon as he found his attentions werethrown away. I instantly took possession of the place, and, observingthe greatest respect, entered at once into conversation with her.

  Whether she was pleased with my address and language, as being superiorto what she was usually compelled to listen to, or whether she wasflattered by my assiduous attention, I know not; but she graduallyunbent, and became more animated; showing great natural talent and ahighly-cultivated mind; so that I was every moment more astonished tofind her in such a situation. Our conversation had lasted aconsiderable time; and I had just made a remark to which she had notreplied, apparently struggling with concealed emotion, when we wereinterrupted by a carriage driving up to the door, and cries of "Help!help!" I instantly quitted the side of my new acquaintance, and flew toanswer the signal of distress.

  A gentleman in the carriage was supporting a young lady in his arms, toall appearance lifeless. With my assistance, she was speedily removedinto the house, and conveyed to a bedroom. A surgeon was sent for, butnone was to be had; the only practitioner of the town being at thatmoment gone to attend one of those cases which, according to MrMalthus, are much too frequent for the good of the country. Idiscovered that the carriage had been overturned, and that the younglady had been insensible ever since. There was no time to be lost; Iknew that immediate bleeding was absolutely necessary. I had acquiredthus much of surgical knowledge in the course of my professional duties.I stated my opinion to the gentleman; and although my practice had beenvery slight, offered my services to perform the operation. This offerwas accepted with thanks by the grateful father, for such I found hewas. With my sharp penknife I opened a vein in one of the whitest armsI ever beheld. After a few moments' chafing, the blood flowed morefreely; the pulse indicated returning animation; a pair of large blueeyes opened suddenly upon me like a masked battery; and so alarminglysusceptible was I of the tender passion, that I quite forgot the littleactress whom I had left at the supper-table, and who, a few minutesbefore, had occupied my whole thoughts and attention.

  Having succeeded in restoring the fair patient to consciousness, Iprescribed a warm bed, some tea, and careful watching. My orders werepunctually obeyed; I then quitted the apartment of my patient, and beganto ruminate over the hurried and singular events of the day.

  I had scarcely had time to decide in my own mind on the respectivemerits of my two rival beauties, when the surgeon arrived; and, beingushered into the sick room, declared that the patient had been treatedwith skill, and that in all probability she owed her life to my presenceof mind. "But, give me leave to ask," said the doctor, addressing thefather, "how the accident happened?" The gentleman replied: that ascoundrel, having got up behind the carriage, had been flogged off bythe postilion; and, in revenge, had thrown a stone, which knocked thedriver off his horse they took fright, turned round, and ran away downthe hill towards their own stables; and after running five miles, upsetthe carriage against a post, "by which accident," said he, "my poordaughter was nearly killed."

  "What a villain!" said the doctor.

  "Villain, indeed," echoed I; and so I felt I was. I turned sick at thethought of what my ungoverned passion had done; and my regret was not alittle increased by the charms of my lovely victim; but I soon recoveredfrom the shock, particularly when I saw that no suspicion attached tome. I therefore received the praises of the father and the doctor witha becoming modest diffidence; and, with a hearty shake of the hand fromthe grateful parent, was wished a good night and retired to my bed.

  As I stood before the looking-glass, laying my watch and exhausted purseon the dressing-table, and leisurely untying my cravat, I could notforbear a glance of approbation at what I thought a very handsome and avery impudent face: I soliloquised on the events of the day, and, asusual, found the summing-up very much against me. "This, then, sir,"said I, "is your road to repentance and reform. You insult your father;quit his house; get up, like a vagabond, behind a gentleman's carriage;are flogged off, break the ribs of an honest man, who has a wife andfamily to support out of his hard earnings--are the occasion of acarriage being overturned, and very nearly cause the death of an amiablegirl! And all this mischief in the short space of six hours, not to saya word of your intentions towards the little actress, which I presumeare none of the most honourable. Where is all this to end?"

  "At the gallows," said I, in reply to myself,--"the more probably, too,as my finances have no means of improvement, except by a miracle orhighway robbery. I am in love with two girls, and have only two cleanshirts; consequently there is no proportion between the demand and thesupply." With this medley of reflections I fell asleep. I was awokeearly by the swallows twittering at the windows; and the first questionwhich was agitated in my brain was, what account I should give of myselfto the father of the young lady, when interrogated by him, as I mostcertainly should be. I had my choice between truth and falsehood: thelatter (such is the force of habit), I think, carried it hollow; but Idetermined to leave that point to the spur of the moment, and actaccording to circumstances. My meditations were interrupted by thechambermaid, who, tapping at my door, said she came to tell me "that thegentleman that _belonged_ to the young lady that I was so kind to waswaiting breakfast for me."

  The thought of sitting at table with the dear creature whose brains Ihad so nearly spilled upon the road the night before, quite overcame me;and leaving the fabric of my history to chance or to inspiration, Idarted from my bedroom to the parlour, where the stranger awaited me.He received me with great cordiality, again expressed his obligations,and informed me that his name was Somerville, of ---.


  I had some faint recollection of having heard the name mentioned by myfather, and was endeavouring to recall to mind on what occasion, whenMr Somerville interrupted me by saying, that he hoped he should havethe pleasure of knowing the name of the young gentleman who hadconferred such an obligation upon him. I answered that my name wasMildmay; for I had no time to tell a lie.

  "I should be happy to think," said he, "that you were the son of my oldfriend and schoolfellow, Mr Mildmay, of ---; but that cannot well be,"said he, "for he had only two sons--one at college, the other as brave asailor as ever lived, and now in the Mediterranean: but perhaps you aresome relation of his?"

  He had just concluded this speech, and before I had time to reply to it,the door opened, and Miss Somerville entered. We have all heard a greatdeal about "love at first sight;" but I contend, that the man who wouldnot, at the very first glimpse of Emily Somerville, have fallendesperately in love with her, could have had neither heart nor soul. IfI thought her lovely when she lay in a state of insensibility, what didI think of her when her form had assumed its wonted animation, and hercheeks their natural colour? To describe a perfect beauty never was myforte. I can only say, that Miss Somerville, as far as I am a judge,united in her person all the component parts of the finest specimen ofher sex in England; and these were joined in such harmony by the skilfulhand of Nature, that I was ready to kneel down and adore her.

  As she extended her white hand to me, and thanked me for my kindness, Iwas so taken aback with the sudden appearance and address of thisbeautiful vision, that I knew not what to say. I stammered outsomething, but have no recollection whether it was French or English. Ilost my presence of mind, and the blushes of conscious guilt on my faceat that moment, might have been mistaken for those of unsophisticatedinnocence. That these external demonstrations are often confounded, andthat such was the case on the present occasion, there can be no doubt.My embarrassment was ascribed to that modesty ever attendant on realworth.

  It has been said that true merit blushes at being discovered; but I havelived to see merit that could not blush, and the want of it that could,while the latter has marched off with all the honours due to the former.The blush that burned on my check, at that moment, would have gone farto have condemned a criminal at the Old Bailey; but in the countenanceof a handsome young man, was received as the unfailing marks of "a pure,ingenuous soul."

  I had been too long at school to be ashamed of wearing laurels I hadnever won; and, having often received a flogging which I did notdeserve, I thought myself equally well entitled to any advantages whichthe chances of war might throw in my way; so having set my tenderconscience at rest, I sat myself down between my new mistress and herfather, and made a most delightful breakfast. Miss Somerville, althoughdeclared out of danger by the doctor, was still languid, but able tocontinue her journey; and as they had not many miles farther to go, MrSomerville proposed a delay of an hour or two.

  Breakfast ended, he quitted the room to arrange for their departure, andI found myself _tete a tete_ with the young lady. During this shortabsence I found out that she was an only daughter, and that her motherwas dead; she again introduced the subject of my family-name, and Ifound also that before Mrs Somerville's death, my father had been onterms of great intimacy with Emily's parents. I had not replied to MrSomerville's question. A similar one was now asked by his daughter; andso closely was I interrogated by her coral lips and searching blue eyes,that I could not tell a lie. It would have been a horrid aggravation ofguilt, so I honestly owned that I was the son of her father's friend,Mr Mildmay.

  "Good Heaven!" said she, "why had you not told my father so?"

  "Because I must have said a great deal more besides," added I, makingher my confidante. "I am the midshipman whom Mr Somerville supposes tobe in the Mediterranean, and I ran away from my father's house lastnight."

  Although I was as concise as possible in my story, I had not finishedbefore Mr Somerville came in.

  "Oh, papa," said his daughter, "this young gentleman is Frank Mildmay,after all."

  I gave her a reproachful glance for having betrayed my secret; herfather was astonished--she looked confused, and so did I. Nothing nowremained for me but an open and candid confession, taking especial care,however, to conceal the part I had acted in throwing the stone. MrSomerville reproved me very sharply, which I thought was taking a greatliberty; but he softened it down by adding, "If you knew how dear theinterests of your family are to me, you would not be surprised at myassuming the tone of a parent." I looked at Emily and pocketed theaffront.

  "And Frank," pursued he, "when I tell you that, although the distancebetween your father's property and mine has in some measure interruptedour long intimacy, I have been watching your career in the service withinterest, you will, perhaps, take my advice, and return home. Do notlet me have to regret that one to whom I am under such obligationsshould too proud to acknowledge a fault. I admire a high spirit in agood cause: but towards a parent it can never be justified. It may beunpleasant to you; but I will prepare the way by writing to your father:and do you stay here till you hear from me. I should wish for thepleasure of your company at --- Hall; but your father has prior claims:and I hardly need tell you, that once restored and reconciled to him, Iexpect as long a visit as you can afford to pay me. Think on what Ihave said and, in the meantime, as I daresay your finances are not veryflourishing"--(thinks I, you are a witch!)--"allow me to leave thisten-pound note in your hands." This part of his request was much morereadily complied with than the other.

  He left the room, as he said, to pay the bill; but, I believe, it was togive his fair daughter an opportunity of trying the effect of hereloquence on my proud spirit, which gave no great promise of concession.A few minutes with _her_, did more than both the fathers could haveeffected, the most powerful motive to submission being the certaintythat I could not visit at her father's house until a reconciliation hadtaken place between me and mine. I therefore told her that, at hersolicitation, I would submit to any liberal terms.

  This being agreed to, her father observed that the carriage was at thedoor, shook hands with me, and led his lovely daughter away, whose lastnod and parting look confirmed all my good resolutions.

  Reader, whatever you may think of the trifling incidents of the lasttwenty-four hours, you will find that they involved consequences of vastimportance to the writer of this memoir. Pride induced me to quit myfather's house; revenge stimulated me to an act which brought theheroine of this story on the stage, for such will Emily Somerville proveto be. But, alas! by what fatal infatuation was Mr Somerville inducedto leave me my own master at an inn, with ten pounds in my pocket,instead of taking me with him to his own residence, and keeping me tillhe had heard from my father? The wisest men often err in points whichat first appear of trivial importance, but which prove in the sequel tohave been fraught with evil.

  Left to myself, I ruminated for some time on what had occurred; and thebeautiful Emily Somerville having vanished from my sight, I recollectedthe little fascinating actress from whom I had so suddenly parted on theprevious night; still I must say, that I was so much occupied with thecharms of her successor, that I sought the society of the youthfulMelpomene more with a view to beguile the time, than from any seriousprepossession.

  I found her in the large room, where they were all assembled. Shereceived me as a friend, and evinced a partiality which flattered myvanity. In three days, I received a letter from Mr Somerville,inclosing one from my father, whose only request was, that I wouldreturn home, and meet him as if nothing unpleasant had occurred. This Idetermined to do; but I had now been so long in the company of Eugenia(for that was the actress's name), that I could not very easily partwith her. In fact, I was desperately in love, after my fashion; andthough perhaps I could not with truth say the same of her, yet that shewas partial to my company was evident. I had obtained from her thehistory of her life, which, in the following chapter, I shall give inher own words.

 

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