Marjorie

by Justin H. McCarthy

  CHAPTER XII

  MR. DAVIES'S GIFTS

  Mr. Davies did not seem at all surprised to see us when we entered, andhe turned round and faced us.

  The poor little man had lived so long among his musty books that thereal world had become as it were a kind of dream to him, wherein peoplecame like shadows and people went like shadows, and where still thebattered battalions of his books abided with him.

  But he seemed very well pleased to see us, and shook us both warmly bythe hands and called us by our right names, without confounding eitherof us with the other, and had us into his little back parlour andpressed strong waters upon us, all very hospitably.

  Of the strong waters Lancelot and I would have none, for in those days Inever touched them, nor did Lancelot. I never drank aught headier thanale in the time when I used to frequent the Skull and Spectacles, andas for Lancelot, who was a gentleman born and used to French wines, hehad no relish for more ardent liquors. Then he begged we would have adish of tea, of which he had been given a little present, he said, oflate; and as it would have cut him to the heart if we had refused allhis proffers, we sat while he bustled about at his brew, and then we allsipped the hot stuff out of porcelain cups and chatted away as if theworld had grown younger.

  Mr. Davies was full of curiosity about our departure and the Captain'spurpose, and did not weary of putting questions to us, or rather toLancelot, for he soon found that I knew but little of our businessbeyond the name of the ship. To be sure, I do not think that Lancelotreally knew much more about it than I did, but he could talk as I nevercould talk, and he made it all seem mighty grand and venturesome andheroic to the little bookseller.

  When we rose Mr. Davies rose with us and followed us into the shop, whenhe insisted that each of us should have a book for a keepsake. He gropedalong his shelves, and after a little while turned to us with a coupleof volumes under his arm.

  Mr. Davies addressed Lancelot very gravely as he handed him one of thevolumes.

  'Master Lancelot,' he said, 'in giving you that book I bestow upon youwhat is worth more than a king's ransom--yea, more than gold of Ophirand peacocks and ivory from Tarshish, and pearls of Tyre and purple ofSidon. It is John Florio's rendering of the Essays of Michael ofMontaigne, and there is no better book in the world, of the books thatmen have made for men, the books that have no breath of the speech ofangels in them. Here may a man learn to be brave, equable, temperate,patient, to look life--aye, and the end of life--squarely in the face,to make the most and best of his earthly portion. Take it, MasterLancelot; it is the good book of a good and wise gentleman, and in dayslong off, when I am no more, you may remember my name because of this mygift and be grateful.'

  Then he turned to me and handed me the other book that he had beenhugging under his arm.

  'For you, my dear young friend,' he said, 'I have chosen a work ofanother temper. You have no bookish habit, but you have a gallantspirit, and so I will give you a gallant book.'

  He opened the volume, which was a quarto, and read from its title-pagein his thin, piping voice, that always reminded me somewhat of his ownold bullfinch.

  'A New, Short, and Easy Method of Fencing; or, the Art of the Broad andSmall Sword, Rectified and Compendiz'd, wherein the practice of thesetwo weapons is reduced to so few and general Rules that any Person ofindifferent Capacity and ordinary Agility of Body may in a very shorttime attain to not only a sufficient Knowledge of the Theory of thisart, but also to a considerable adroitness in practice, either for theDefence of his life upon a just occasion, or preservation of hisReputation and Honour in any Accidental Scuffle or Trifling Quarrel. BySir William Hope of Balcomie, Baronet, late Deputy-Governor of theCastle of Edinburgh.'

  I should not have carried such a string of words in my memory merelyfrom hearing Mr. Davies say them over once. But they and the book theyspoke of became very familiar to me afterwards, and I know it and itstitle by root of heart.

  Lancelot thanked him for us both in well-chosen words, such as I shouldnever have found if I had cudgelled my brains for a fortnight.

  Then we wrung Mr. Davies's hands again, and he wished us God-speed, andwe came out again into the open street, where the day had now welldarkened down.

  As we walked along the High Street with our books under our armsLancelot gave me many particulars concerning his uncle's scheme and hismeans for furthering it.

  It would appear that Captain Marmaduke had for some time cherished thenotion of an ideal colony. The thought came originally into his head, soLancelot fancied, from his study of such books as the 'Republic' ofPlato and the 'Utopia' of Sir Thomas More, works I had then never heardof, and have found no occasion since that time to study. But, as Igathered from Lancelot, they were volumes that treated of idealcommonwealths.

  Captain Amber's first idea, it appeared, was to establish his littlefollowing in one of His Majesty's American colonies. But while he was inthe Low Countries he had heard much of those new lands at the end of theworld, wherein the Dutch are so much interested, and it seems that theDutch Government, in gratitude to him for some services rendered, werewilling to make him a concession of land wherein to try his venture. Atleast I think, as well as I can remember, that this was so; I know thatsomehow or other the Dutch Government was mixed up in the matter.

  What further resolved Captain Amber to go so far afield was, it seems,the friendship he had formed while at Leyden with Cornelys Jensen. ThisJensen was a fellow of mixed parentage, a Dutch father and an Englishmother, who had followed the sea all his life, and knew, it seemed, veryintimately those parts of the world whereto Captain Amber's thoughtswere turned.

  Jensen was such a plausible fellow, and professed to be so enrapturedwith Captain Amber's enterprise, that the Captain's heart was quite wonby the fellow, and from that time out he and Cornelys Jensen were handand glove together in the matter. Very valuable Jensen proved, accordingto the Captain; full of experience, expeditious, and a rare hand at thepicking up of stout fellows for a crew. I found that Lancelot did nothold him in such high regard as his uncle did, but that out of respectfor Captain Amber's judgment he held his peace.

  As for the Captain's brother Nathaniel, his whole share in theenterprise consisted in the advancing of moneys, on those ungentle termsI have recorded, upon the broad lands and valuables which made myCaptain a man of much worldly gear.

  Lancelot brought me to my door, we still talking of this and of that.

  Lancelot came within for a little while and kissed my mother, who hungon his neck for a moment and then cried a little softly, while Lancelotspoke to her with those words of grave encouragement which seemed beyondhis years. Then he wished us good-night, and I saw him to the door, andstood watching his tall form stepping briskly up the street in the clearstarlight.

  The girl I spoke of but now, she in the play-book who lived like a manin the greenwood, says--or bears witness that another said--that noneever loved who loved not at first sight. This was true in my case. Forthat unhappy business with the girl Barbara, though it was love sureenough, was not such gracious love as that day entered into me and hasever since dwelt with me.

  Of course I had much to tell my mother and she listened, as interestedas a child in a fairy tale to all that had been said and done in theNoble Rose. But most of all she seemed surprised to hear that a girl wasgoing to sea with us. She questioned me suddenly when I had made an endof my story:

  'What do you think of this maid Marjorie, Raphael?'

  I felt at the mention of her name that the blood ran red in my face andI was glad to think that the light in the room was not bright enough tobetray me, for I felt shy and angry at my shyness and knew that mycheeks flamed for both reasons. But I tried to say unconcernedly thattruly Captain Amber was much blessed in such a niece and Lancelot insuch a sister. Yet while I answered I felt both hot and cold, as I havefelt since with the ague in the Spanish Islands.

  We spoke no more of Marjorie that evening but at night I lay long hoursawake thinking of her, and when
at last I fell asleep I slipped intodreams of her, with her yellow hair, and the yellow flowers in hergirdle and the kindness of Heaven in her steadfast eyes.

  There are many kinds of love in the world, as there are many kinds ofmen and many kinds of women, but my love for Marjorie Amber was of thebest kind that a man can feel, and it made a man of me.

  I have lived a wild life and a vagrant life, I know; but, anyway, my wayof life has been a clean way. I have never been a brawler nor a sot, andI have never struck a man to his hurt unless when peril forced me. Ihave never fought in wantonness or bad blood, but only out of somenecessity that would not be said nay to. And, indeed, there have beentimes when I have let a man live to my own risk. So I hope when my ghostmeets elsewhere with the ghosts of my enemies that they will offer metheir shadowy fingers in proof that they bear me no malice and are awarethat all was done according to honourable warfare. There is the blood ofno vindictive death upon my fingers. What blood there is was blood spilthonestly, in a gentlemanly way, in a soldierly way; and there is ablessed Blood that will cleanse me of its stain.

  That I can make this boast I owe in all thankfulness to two women. To mymother first, and then to the girl who came to me at the very turn of mylife. If I can say truthfully that year in and year out my life has beena fairly creditable one for a man that has followed fortune by sea andby land the Recording Angel must even set it down to the credit ofMarjorie.