CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN.
The hurry and bustle of preparing for their departure from the island,and the rapid succession of events which had been crowded togetherwithin so very few days, had not allowed time for much thought orreflection to Mr and Mrs Seagrave and William; at length, however,every preparation had been made, and they were no longer urged by thecommander of the schooner to hasten their packing up and arrangements;for everything had been sent on board during the afternoon, and it wasproposed that they should sail on the following day.
Now they had time to feel, and bitterly did they lament the loss oftheir old friend, and deplore that he had not survived to sail with themto Sydney. They had always indulged the hope that one day they shouldbe taken off the island, and in that hope they had ever looked forwardto old Ready becoming a part of their future household. Now that theirwishes had been granted--so much was the feeling of joy and gratitudemingled with regret--that could he have been restored to them, they feltas if they would have gladly remained on the island.
Captain Osborn, the commander, and the crew of the schooner had takenleave of them for the night, and had gone on board, having madearrangements for the interment of Ready, previous to their sailing, onthe following day. The children had been put to bed, and Juno hadquitted the house; Mr and Mrs Seagrave and William were sittingtogether in their now half-dismantled room, when Juno entered; the poorgirl had evidently been weeping.
"Well, Juno," observed Mr Seagrave, with a view to break the silencewhich had continued for some time previous to her entrance, "are you notglad to leave the island?"
"One time I think I would be very glad, but now I not care much,"replied Juno. "Island very nice place, all very happy till savage come.Suppose they not kill old Ready, I not care."
"Yes, indeed," said Mrs Seagrave, "it is a sad blow to us all; I didhope to have fostered the good old man, and to have been able to haveshown him our gratitude, but--"
"It is the will of Heaven that it should be otherwise," continued MrSeagrave; "I would give half that I am possessed of, that he had notperished."
"Oh, Massa!" said Juno, "I sit by him just now; I take off the flag andlook at his face, so calm, look so happy, so good, I almost tink hesmile at me, and then I cry. Oh! Massa Tommy, all because you idleboy."
"It adds much to my regret," replied Mr Seagrave, "that his life shouldhave been sacrificed through the thoughtlessness of one of my ownchildren; what a lesson it will be to Tommy when he is old enough tocomprehend the consequences of his conduct."
"That he must not know, papa," said William, who had been leaningmournfully over the table; "one of Ready's last injunctions was thatTommy was never to be told of it."
"His last wishes shall be religiously attended to, my dear boy," repliedMr Seagrave; "for what do we not owe to that good old man? When othersdeserted us and left us to perish, he remained with us to share ourfate. By his skill we were saved and landed in safety. He provided forour wants, added to our comforts, instructed us how to make the best useof our means. Without his precautions we should have perished by thespears of the savages. What an example of Christian fortitude andhumility did he ever show us! and indeed, I may truly say, that by hisexample, sinful as I must ever be, I have become, I trust, a better man.Would that he were now sitting by us,--but the Lord's will be done!"
"I feel as if I had lost a stay or prop," replied Mrs Seagrave. "Soaccustomed have I been to look to him for advice since we have been onthis island. Had he not been thus snatched from us--had he been sparedto us a few years, and had we been permitted to surround his death-bed,and close his eyes in peace--" and Mrs Seagrave wept upon the shoulderof her husband.
After a time, Mrs Seagrave recovered herself; but silence ensued, onlybroken by an occasional sob from poor Juno. William's heart was toofull; he could not for a long while utter a word; at last he said in alow voice:
"I feel that, next to my dear father and mother, I have lost my bestfriend. I cannot forgive myself for allowing him to go for the water;it was my duty to go, and I ought to have gone."
"And yet we could have ill spared you, my dear boy; you might haveperished," replied Mrs Seagrave.
"It would have been as God willed," replied William; "I might haveperished, or I might not."
"We never know what the morrow may bring forth," said Mr Seagrave, "orwhat may be in store for us. Had not this misfortune happened, had oldReady been spared to us, how joyfully should I and all of you havequitted this island, full of anticipation, and indulging in worldlyprospects. What a check have I received! I now am all thought andanxiety. I have said to myself, `we have been happy on this island; ourwants have been supplied; even our comforts have been great. We havebeen under no temptations, for we have been isolated from the world; amI so sure that I shall be as happy in future as I have been? Am Iconfident, now my long-wished-for return to the world is about to takeplace, that I shall have no cause to lament that I ever quitted thispeaceful, quiet spot?' I feel that it is a duty to my family that Ishould return to society, but I am far from feeling that our happinessmay be increased. We have, however, a plain precept to follow, whichis, to do our duty in that state of life to which it has pleased God tocall us."
"Yes," replied Mrs Seagrave; "I feel the truth of all you have justsaid. We are in his hands; let us put our trust in him."
"We will," replied Mr Seagrave; "but it is late, and we have to riseearly to-morrow morning. This is the last evening which we shall passon this island; let us return our thanks for the happiness we haveenjoyed here. We thought to have quitted this spot in joy,--it is hiswill that we should leave it in sorrow."
Mr Seagrave took down the Bible, and after he had read a chapter, hepoured forth a prayer suited to their feelings, and they all retired torepose.
The next morning they were up early, and packed up the few articleswhich still remained to go on board. Mr Seagrave read the prayers, andthey went to breakfast. Few words were exchanged, for there was asolemn grief upon all of them. They waited for the arrival of CaptainOsborn and the crew of the schooner to attend the funeral of poor oldReady. William, who had gone out occasionally to look at the vessel,now came in, and said that two boats were pulling on shore. A fewminutes afterwards, Captain Osborn and the commander of the schoonersoon made their appearance. The coffin had been brought on shore; thebody of Ready was put into it, and it was screwed down.
In half an hour all was prepared, and the family were summoned from thehouse. The coffin, covered with the Union Jack as a pall, was raised onthe shoulders of six of the seamen, and they bore it to the grave,followed by Mrs Seagrave and the children, the commander of theschooner, and several of the men. Mr Seagrave read the funeralservice, the grave was filled up, and they all walked back in silence.At the request of William, the commander of the schooner had ordered thecarpenter to prepare an oak paling to put round the grave, and a boardon which was written the name of the deceased and day of his death. Assoon as this had been fixed up, William, with a deep sigh, followed thecommander of the schooner to the house to announce that all wasfinished, and that the boat waited for them to embark.
"Come, my dear," said Mr Seagrave to his wife.
"I will, I will," replied Mrs Seagrave, "but I don't know how it is,now that the hour is come, I really feel such pain at quitting this dearisland. Had it not been for poor Ready's death, I really do think Ishould wish to remain."
"I don't doubt but that you feel sorrow, my dear, but we must not keepCaptain Osborn waiting."
As Mr Seagrave was aware that the commander of the schooner was anxiousto get clear of the islands before night, he now led his wife down tothe boat. They all embarked, and were soon on the deck of the schooner,from whence they continued to fix their eyes upon the island, while themen were heaving up the anchor. At last sail was made upon the vessel,the garden-point was cleared, and, as they ran away with a fair wind,each object on the shore became more indistinct. Still their eyes wereturned in that dire
ction.
As they ran down to the westward, they passed the cove where they hadfirst landed, and Mr Seagrave directed Mrs Seagrave's attention to it.She remained for some time looking at it in silence, and then said asshe turned away:
"We shall never be more happy than we were on that island, Seagrave."
"It will indeed be well, my dear, if we never are less happy," repliedher husband.
The schooner now ran fast through the water, and the island was everyminute less distinct; after a time, the land was below the horizon, andthe tops of the cocoa-nut trees only to be seen; these graduallydisappeared. Juno watched on, and when at last nothing could be seen,she waved her handkerchief in the direction of the island, as if to bidit farewell, and then went down below to hide her grief.
The wind continued fair, and, after a favourable passage of little morethan four weeks, they arrived at Sydney Cove, the port to which theywere bound when they embarked from England on board of the good shipPacific.
PS. As my young readers will probably wish to know a little more aboutthe Seagrave family, I will inform them that Mr Seagrave, like thepatriarch Job after his tribulation, found his flocks and herds greatlyincreased on his arrival at Sydney. Mr and Mrs Seagrave lived to seeall their children grown up. William inherited the greater part of theproperty from his father, after having for many years assisted him inthe management of it. Tommy, notwithstanding all his scrapes, grew up avery fine fellow, and entered the army. Caroline married a youngclergyman, and made him an excellent wife; little Albert went into thenavy, and is at present a commander.
Juno is still alive, and lives at Seagrave plantation with William, andher greatest pleasure is to take his children on her knee, and tell themlong stories about the island, and make them cry when she goes throughthe history of old Ready's death and burial.
Masterman Ready; Or, The Wreck of the Pacific Page 67