CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
I left my mother, at the end of the last chapter, standing in the middleof the back parlour of Mr Schank's cottage, her Irish admirer, MrGillooly, scampering up the lane as fast as his two legs would carryhim, the stranger who accompanied me from Portsmouth having just before,most opportunely for me, sprung through the window and saved me from theeffects of that worthy's anger.
I had no disposition to follow him; indeed, I had a matter of far moreinterest to occupy my attention at the moment. My mother sank into achair. I sprang forward to embrace her, and while she threw one of herarms round my neck, she pointed at the stranger, exclaiming:
"Is it real, or am I in a dream? Who are you? Say! Say! Do not mockme!"
"Polly, you are my own true loving wife, and I am your live husband--your faithful Dick Burton!" exclaimed my father, for he it was inreality, as he came forward and took my mother in his arms.
"No wonder you thought me dead, Mary, and a long yarn I have to tellyou, how it all happened. And is this young gentleman Ben, our Ben?" heasked, as he put his arm round my neck and kissed me on the brow. "Iknow it is; yet if I had not seen him here I should not have known him.Well, to see him a quarter-deck officer, and on the road to promotion,and you, Mary, alive and well, and as young looking as ever, repays mefor all I have gone through, and that's no trifle."
Now, most women under the trying circumstances I have described wouldhave fainted away or gone into hysterics, but my mother did neither onenor the other. Perhaps we had to thank Mr Gillooly for saving her fromsuch a result. My idea is the agitation which that worthy gentleman hadput her into counteracted the effects which might have been produced,first from my sudden appearance, and then by the unlooked-for return ofmy father. I do not mean to say that she was not agitated, and was verynearly fainting, but she did not faint; indeed, her nerves stood thetrial in a most wonderful manner. After I had been with my mother andmy newly-found father for some time, I bethought me that I ought to goand pay my respects to Mrs Schank and to Miss Emily, who, my mothertold me, was sitting with her; I therefore went to the drawing-roomdoor, and, tapping, asked if I might enter.
"Come in," said a sweet voice. The owner of the sweet voice startedwhen she saw me, for she was evidently uncertain who I could be, whilethe old lady peered at me through her spectacles.
Emily, however, coming forward, put out her hand.
"How delightful! You are welcome back, Ben!" she exclaimed. "I meanMr Burton. It is Mr Ben Burton, ma'am," she said in a higher key, andturning to the old lady.
"Ah, Ben! You are grown indeed, and you are welcome, lad. You arealways welcome," she added after a minute, and made some inquiries ofher son. "And you have come back in the very nick of time, for there isan Irish gentleman wants to marry your mother, and we do not like him,do we, Emily?"
"Oh! No, no," said Emily, shaking her head; "it would never do." Thisgave me the opportunity of saying that Mr Gillooly had taken hisdeparture, and also that there was another very strong reason for mymother's not marrying him--the return of my father. The old lady'sastonishment knew no bounds on hearing this. "And my girls are out!Dear me, they will be surprised when they come back. What a pity theyshould not have been here. It is a mercy your mother did not faint awayaltogether. And he is actually in the next room. Your father, who hasbeen killed so many years!"
"They thought he was killed, ma'am," exclaimed Emily. "He could nothave been killed or he would not be here!"
"No! To be sure! To be sure!" said the old lady. "That is very clear,and very wonderful it is; but if he had been killed it would be stillmore wonderful! Well, I am very glad he has come back." After a littletime I went back to my father and mother, and brought him in to see MrsSchank and the Little Lady, both of whom welcomed him cordially. Iinquired after Mrs Lindars.
"She is much as usual," answered Emily, "but she looks almost as old asgrandmamma. You know I call Mrs Schank grandmamma now. She really islike a grandmother to me, and the Misses Schank are like kind aunts,though I look upon your mother, Ben, quite as a mother, for one she hasbeen to me all my life."
I was doubtful how I ought to convey her husband's message to MrsLindars. Indeed, I felt that it would be a very difficult task.However, it was managed. I determined first to consult my mother andthe poor lady's sisters. At length they returned, and various were thenotes of exclamation and astonishment with which they heard of theexistence and return of my father, and still more so when they saw him.
"Well, I must say you are a very substantial, good-looking ghost," saidMiss Anna Maria, in her funny, chirruping voice, "and a much betterhusband you will make her, I am sure, than that strange Irishman who hasbeen haunting the village for the last week."
"Thank you, miss," said my father, looking affectionately at my mother.
"And you must stay here as long as you can, Mister Burton," said oldMrs Schank.
"Thank you again, ma'am. I shall be in no hurry to leave my wife now Ihave come back to her," he said, with a sailor's bow.
"But we want to know, Mr Burton, where you have been, and what you havebeen about," said Miss Martha Schank.
"That would take up a long time, but I will try and satisfy you ladiesas soon as you are ready to hear."
"As to going to bed without some notion, we should not sleep a wink allnight for thinking of it, and not be sure, after all, whether you areyourself, or your ghost, or somebody else," exclaimed the Misses Schankalmost in chorus, Miss Anna Maria adding the last remark: "We heard thatyou were knocked overboard and killed attacking a French ship off thecoast of Italy. Was that not the case?"
"It is all very true that I was knocked overboard," said my father."But had I been killed, I do not think I should be here. The fact is,that when I fell into the water I came to myself, and not being able toreach the boats I got hold of the rudder chains of the vessel we hadhoped to capture. There I hung on till the anger of the Frenchmen hadsomewhat cooled down, and then, finding I could hold on no longer, Isang out, and asked them to take me on board. They did so, and therebeing a surgeon in the ship, he dressed my wounds. They treated mepretty fairly till I got well, I must say that for them, but after thatthey sent me to a French prison. Unfortunately I had no money in mypocket, and was unable to buy paper to write a letter. What with thehard treatment I received, and the thoughts that my wife and child wereleft without anybody to look after them, I fell sick, and remainedbetween life and death for many months. A kind French widow and herdaughter took compassion on me, and by their means my life was saved. Iafter this wrote several times, but my letters must have been treated aswere many others, and were never sent. I should, however, in time havegot my freedom, but I fell in with an English officer who was going tobe married, he told me, to a beautiful young lady, just when he wastaken, and now she would have to wait for him for many years, or perhapsgo and marry somebody else, thinking he was dead. He would, he said,give everything to make his escape, so I promised to help him, which Iwished to do for his own sake. But I thought also that I might get awaymyself. It would be a long yarn if I was to tell you all our plans, andall the tricks we had to play to get out of prison. At last, however,we managed to get free and stand outside the walls of the town. Hecould talk French like a Frenchman, but I could not say a word. We wereboth dressed as countrymen--he of the better sort, and I, as a lout,born deaf and dumb. This did very well for some time, and whether or nothe country people suspected us I cannot say, but I rather think theydid, though many of them were very kind to Englishmen, and would gladlyhave helped them to escape if they dared. We worked our way north,travelling by unfrequented paths, or, when we had to take to the highroad, going on generally at night. We got into high spirits, thinkingthat all would be right. This made us careless, when one day, just aswe were leaving the town, a party of their abominable gendarmes pouncedupon us. The captain showed great surprise, and wondered why theyshould lay hold of two innocent people. This was of no use
, however.They soon showed him they knew who we were, and we were marched back toprison, looking very foolish, and the next morning sent off, withseveral other prisoners, to the place we had escaped from. There wewere kept closely shut up. It was very hard and very cruel in them,just because we wanted to get our liberty. I made several otherattempts, for I was determined to get free if I could. Life was worthnothing away from my wife and child. At last I succeeded with twoothers--an officer and another man. We reached the coast, cut out asmall boat, and were making our way across the Channel when we werepicked up by a man-of-war. It had come on to blow very heavy. Our boatwas swamped alongside, and, as she was outward bound, we had to go awayin her. I entered on board. We took several prizes, and I filled myempty pockets with gold. I was one of the prize crew of the firstman-of-war we took worth sending home, and at last I once more set footon the shores of England. As soon as I was free of the ship I came downhere. There you have my history; I will tell you more particularsanother day. It may serve, however, to convince you that I am no ghost,or that if I am, I am a big liar, saving your pardons, ladies, and thatis what Dick Burton never was. Besides, I have an idea that my wifebelieves me, at all events. Don't you, Polly?"
Following my father's example, I must be somewhat brief in the remainderof my yarn. I should say, that soon after his arrival he and my mothertook a cottage which happened to be vacant in the village. Hefortunately had a considerable amount of prize-money and pay due to him,for which it appeared my mother had neglected to draw, and with this, inaddition to what he had lately obtained, he was well able to keep house.Mrs and the Misses Schank, however, insisted upon my remaining withthem, which, as may be supposed, I was very glad to do.
I spent a very happy time at Whithyford. Little Emily was my constantcompanion, and every day I was with her. I learned to love her more andmore. At first we talked of being brother and sister, but we knew wewere not, and somehow or other in time we came to leave off calling eachother so. After this, at first I called her for a few days Miss Emily,but I soon dropped that again. Then I began to talk of how I was goingto rise in my profession, and make heaps of prize-money, and I scarcelyknow, indeed, what I was going to do and be. There was LordCollingwood, and Lord Nelson, and Lord Saint Vincent, and old LordCamperdown, who had all been midshipmen once on a time, and wereadmirals and lords, and why should I not be a lord too? Emily, ofcourse, thought that I should be, and I am not quite certain that we didnot choose a title. I was to be Baron Burton of Whithyford, and I tookto calling her Lady Burton, and sometimes Lady Whithyford. I do notmind confessing this now. It did no harm, and at all events made usvery happy. Why should not people be happy when happiness is so easilyobtained--by a little exercise of the imagination? I quite forgot tomention my mother's devout admirer, Mr Gillooly. On inquiring the nextmorning after our arrival of what had become of him, we found that hehad been taken ill and was laid up in bed; so it was said at the"Wheatsheaf," where he remained for some time under the tender care ofMrs Fowler. When he recovered, unwilling to go back to Ireland withoutan English wife, which he promised he would bring, I rather think tospite some Irish fair one who had refused him, as a reward to thelandlady for all her kindness, he made her an offer of his hand, whichshe accepted. They were married shortly afterwards. She disposed ofher establishment, and, dressed in a new satin gown of the gayestcolours, accompanied him back, not only as a blooming bride, but, asAnna Maria observed, a thoroughly full-blown one, to become the mistressof Ballyswiggan Hall. When Mr Schank at last came home, there was agreat rejoicing, and two days afterwards the postman's knock was heardat the door, and Emily, running out, brought back a long officiallooking letter.
"It has come at last," he exclaimed, and his voice showed more emotionthan he was wont to exhibit. "Oliver is a fine fellow; I knew he woulddo his best;" and holding up the letter to us all, we saw it wasaddressed to Commander Schank. "And now the next thing they must do isto give me a ship and post me, and then, mother, I may perhaps dosomething to place you and my sisters in the position you ought tooccupy, and make you all comfortable to the end of your days."
"No, no, Jack! We are as well off as we wish to be. You must marry asyou said you would. We would far rather see you married happily thanchange to the finest house in London."
"No, no, sisters," he answered, and something very like a sigh burstfrom his heart. "I once had a dream, but that has passed. I shallmarry my ship when I get one, and I hope never to lose her while I havelife."
Captain Schank was known to be too good an officer to be allowed toremain long unemployed, or I should say Captain Oliver was too zealous afriend to allow his merits to be passed by. At length another letterarrived, appointing him to the command of a fine brig sloop just off thestocks at Portsmouth. He was at once to go down and commission her, andfit her for sea.
"Ben," he said, "Captain Oliver writes me too that you will be appointedto her. You have only one year to serve, and after that he hopes youwill get your commission. If the Ministry keeps in and he lives, hishopes will, I am very sure, come true. Oldershaw, as you know, ispromoted, and has been appointed Second-Lieutenant of her. TheFirst-Lieutenant is a stranger to me. I see he has been a good manyyears at sea as First-Lieutenant; but he may not be the worse as aFirst-Lieutenant on that account I hope. I must get your father to comedown to Portsmouth, to help me pick up hands for the brig Oliver hopesto get him a berth on board a ship in ordinary, as some recompense tohim for his long imprisonment, and for his gallant efforts to assist theHonourable Captain Burgoyne in escaping from prison.
"You should not miss the opportunity of seeing a ship fitted out. Takemy advice. Make yourself practically acquainted with everything onboard, from stowing the hold to rigging the topgallant masts." The nextday Mr Schank started for Portsmouth, telling me to be prepared tofollow him in the course of a few days.
Ben Burton: Born and Bred at Sea Page 24