by G. A. Henty
CHAPTER X
BACK AT SCARCOMBE
The news of their destination had created great satisfaction among thecrew, as there was little honour or prize-money to be gained, and thevessel had been for some time incessantly engaged in hunting for foes thatwere never found. Not the least pleased was Will. He had left England afriendless ship's-boy; he returned home a midshipman, with a mostcreditable record, and with a fortune that, when he left the service,would enable him to live in more than comfort.
On arriving at Portsmouth the crew were at once paid off, and Will wasappointed to the _Tartar_, a thirty-four gun frigate. On hearing the nameof the ship, Dimchurch and Tom Stevens at once volunteered. They weregiven a fortnight's leave; so Will, with Tom Stevens, determined to take arun up to Scarcombe, and the same day took coach to London. Dimchurch saidhe should spend his time in Portsmouth, as there was no one up in thenorth he cared to see, especially as it would take eight days out of hisfortnight's leave to go to his native place and back.
On the fourth day after leaving London the two travellers reachedScarborough. Tom Stevens started at once, with his kit on a stick, to walkto the village, while Will made enquiries for the house of Mrs. Archer,which was Miss Warden's married name. Without much trouble he made his wayto it; and when the servant answered his knock he said: "I wish to seeMrs. Archer."
"What name, sir?" the girl said respectfully, struck with the appearanceof the tall young fellow in a naval uniform.
"I would rather not say the name," Will said. "Please just say that agentleman wishes to speak to her."
"Will you come this way?" the girl said, leading him to a sitting-room. Aminute later Mrs. Archer appeared. She bowed and asked: "What can I do foryou, sir?"
"Then you do not know me, madam?" said Will.
She looked at him carefully. "I certainly do not," she said, and after apause: "Why, it can't be!--yes, it is--Willie Gilmore!"
"It is, madam, but no doubt changed out of all recognition."
"I have from time to time got your letters," said Mrs. Archer, "andlearned from them with pleasure and surprise that you had become anofficer, but never pictured you as grown and changed in this way. I hopeyou have got my letters in return?"
"I only got one, Mrs. Archer, and it reached me just before we sailed fromthe Mediterranean two years ago. I was not surprised, however, for ofcourse the post is extremely uncertain. It is only very seldom thatletters reach a ship on a foreign station."
"Dear, dear, you have lost some fingers!" Mrs. Archer cried, suddenlynoticing Will's left hand. "How sad, to be sure!"
"That is quite an old story, Mrs. Archer. I lost them at the attempt tocapture St. Pierre, and am so accustomed to the loss now that I hardlynotice it. It is surprising how one can do without a thing. I have to bethankful, indeed, that it was the left hand instead of the right, as, hadit been the other way, I should probably have had to leave the navy, whichwould have meant ruin to me."
"It is all very well to make light of it," she said, "but you must feel ita great drawback."
"Well, you see, Mrs. Archer, the loss of three fingers is of courseterrible for a sailor, who has to row, pull at ropes, scrub decks, and dowork of all sorts; but an officer does not have to do manual work of anykind, and hardly feels such a loss, except, perhaps, at meals. I am goingto sea again almost directly, but the first time I have a long holiday Ishall have some false fingers fitted on, more for the sake of avoidingbeing stared at than for anything else."
"Well, I am more than pleased at seeing you again, Willie. It is sonatural for me to call you that, that it will be some time before I canget out of it. So you have got on very well?"
"Entirely owing to you, Mrs. Archer, as I told you in the first letter Iwrote to you after I got my promotion. You taught me to like study, andwere always ready to help me on with my work, and it was entirely owing tomy having learned so much, especially mathematics, that I was able toattract the attention of the officers and to get put on the quarter-deck.I have, I am happy to say, done very well, and I am sure of my step assoon as I have passed.
"I had the extraordinary good fortune," he said, after chatting for sometime, "to be put in command of a prize that had been taken from somepirates, and was thus able to earn a good deal of prize-money. But nothinghas given me greater pleasure since I went away than the purchasing ofthis little present for you as a token, though a very poor one, of mygratitude to you for your kindness;" and he handed her a little casecontaining a diamond brooch, for which he had paid one hundred and fiftypounds as he came through London.
"Willie!" she exclaimed in surprise as she opened it, "how could you thinkof buying such a valuable ornament for me?"
"I should have liked to buy something more valuable," he said. "If I hadpaid half my prize-money it would only have been fair, for I should neverhave won it but for you."
"I have nothing nearly so valuable," she said. "Well, now, you must takeup your abode with us while you stay here. How long have you?"
"I have a fortnight's leave, but it has taken me four days to come downhere, and of course I shall have to allow as many for the return journey.I have therefore six days to spare, and I shall be very pleased indeed tostay with you. I must, of course, spend one day going over to the villageto see John Hammond and his wife. I am happy to say that I shall be ableto make their declining days comfortable. Your father is, I hope, well,Mrs. Archer?"
"Yes, he is going on just as usual. I was over there a fortnight ago. I amsure he will be very glad to see you; he always enquires, when I go over,whether I have had a letter from you, and takes great interest in yourprogress."
"Tom Stevens has come back with me, and has gone on to-day to the village.I told him not to mention about my coming, as I want to take the oldcouple by surprise."
"That you certainly will do. Of course they have aged a little since youwent away, but there is no great change in them. Ah, there is my husband'sknock! Lawrence," she said, as he entered, "this is the village lad I haveso often spoken to you about. He has completely changed in the three yearsand a half he has been away. We heard, you remember, that he had become anofficer, but I was quite unprepared for the change that has come overhim."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Gilmore. My wife has talked about you so oftenthat I quite seem to know you myself, but, of course, as I did not knowyou in those days I can hardly appreciate the change that has come overyou. One thing I can say, however, and that is that you bear noresemblance whatever to a fisher lad."
Will was soon quite at home with Mr. and Mrs. Archer, who introduced himwith pride as "our sailor boy" to many of their friends. On the third dayof his stay he hired a gig and drove over to Scarcombe. Alighting at theone little inn, he walked to John Hammond's cottage, watched on the way bymany enquiring eyes, the fisher folk wondering whether this was a newrevenue officer. He knocked at the door, lifted the latch, and entered.The old couple were sitting at the fire, and looked in surprise at theyoung officer standing at the door.
"Well, sir," John asked, "what can I do for you? I have done withsmuggling long ago, and you won't find as much as a drop of brandy in myhouse."
"So I suppose, John," Will said; "your smuggling didn't do you much good,did it?"
"Well, sir, I don't see as that is any business of yours," the old mananswered gruffly. "I don't mind owning that I have handled many a keg inmy time, but you can't bring that against me now."
"I have no intention of doing so, John. I dare say you gave it up for goodwhen that dirty little boy who used to live with you chucked it and gotinto trouble for doing so. You recollect me, don't you, mother?" he said,as the old woman sat staring at him with open eyes.
"Why, it is Willie himself!" she exclaimed; "don't you know him, John, ourboy Willie, who ran away and went to sea?"
"You don't say it is Will!" the old man said, getting up.
"It is Will sure enough," the lad said, holding out his hand first to one
and then to the other. "He has come back, as you see, an officer."
"Yes, Parson told us that. Well, well! Why, it was only two days ago thatTom Stevens came in. He has growed to be a fine young fellow too, and hetold us that you were well and hearty and had been through lots of fights.But he didn't say nothing about your having come home."
"Well, here I am, John; and what is better, I have brought home some moneywith me, and I shall be able to allow you and the mother a guinea a weekas long as you live."
"You don't mean it, lad!" the old man said with a gasp of astonishment; "aguinea a week! may the Lord be praised! Do you hear that, missis? a guineaa week!"
"Lord, Lord, only to think of it; why, we shall be downright rich!" saidhis wife. "Plenty of sugar and tea, a bit of meat when we fancy it, and adrop of rum to warm our old bones on Saturday night. It is wonderful,John. The Lord be praised for His mercies! But can you afford it, Will? Wewouldn't take it from you if you can't, not for ever so."
"I can afford it very well," Will said, "and it will give me more pleasureto give it you than to spend it in any other way. Now, mother, let us sayno more about it. Here is a guinea as a start, and I wish you would go tothe shop and get some tea and sugar and bread and butter and a nice pieceof bacon, and let us have a meal just as we used to do when we had made agood haul, or taken a hand in a successful run."
"It is three years and a half since I saw a golden guinea," the old womansaid as she put on her bonnet, "and they won't believe their eyes at theshop when I go in with it. You are sure you would like tea better thanbeer?"
"Much better, though if John would prefer beer, get it for him; but Ithink we had better put that off till this evening, then we will have aglass of something hot together before I start."
"You are not going away so soon as that, Will, surely?" the old man saidwhen his wife had left them.
"Yes, John, this is a short visit. I have only four days, and am stayingwith Miss Warden; that is to say, Miss Warden that was. I must go in andsee her father for a few minutes. We'll have plenty of time to talk overeverything before I leave, which I won't do till eight o'clock. I don'tsuppose you have much to tell me, for there are not many changes in aplace like this. This man, perhaps, has lost his boat, and that one hislife, but that is about all. Now I have gone through a big lot, and havemany adventures to tell you."
"But how did you come to be made an officer, Will? That is what beats me."
"Entirely owing to my work at books, which you used always to be ragingabout. But for that I should have remained before the mast all my life.Now in a couple of years or so I'll be a lieutenant."
"Well, well! one never knows how things will turn out. I did think youwere wasting your time in reading, and reading, and reading. I didn't seewhat good so much book-learning would do you; but if it got you made anofficer, there is no doubt that you were right and I was wrong. But yousee, lad, I was never taught any better."
"It has all turned out right, John, and there is no occasion for you toworry over the past. I felt sure that it would do me good some day, so Istuck to it in spite of your scolding, and you will allow that I was neverbackward in turning out when you wanted me for the boat."
"I will allow that, Will, allow it hearty; for there was no better boy inthe village. And so you have been fighting, I suppose, just like TomStevens."
"Just the same, father. We have been together all the time, and we havecome back together."
"And he didn't say a word about it!" the old man said. "He talked aboutyou just as if you were somewhere over the sea."
"I told him not to tell," Will said, "as I wanted to take you bysurprise."
"But he is not an officer, Will. He is just a sailor like those revenuemen. How does that come about? Didn't he fight well?"
"Yes, no one could fight better. If he had had as much learning as I hadhe would have been made an officer too; but, you see, he can hardly reador write, and, fight as he may, he will always remain as he is. A finerfellow never stepped; but because he has no learning he must always remainbefore the mast."
"And you have lost some fingers I see, Will."
"Yes, they were shot off by a musket-ball in the West Indies. Luckily itwas my left hand; so I manage very well without them."
"I hope you blew off the fingers of the fellow that shot you."
"No, I can't say who did it, and indeed I never felt anything at all untilsome little time after."
"I wish I had been there," John said, "I would have had a slap at him witha musket. That was an unlucky shot, Will."
"Well, I have always considered it a lucky one, for if it had gone a fewinches on one side it would have probably finished me altogether."
"Well, well, it is wonderful to me. Here am I, an old man, and never, sofar as I can remember, been a couple of miles from Scarcombe, and you,quite a young chap, have been wandering and fighting all over the world."
"Not quite so much as that, John, though I have certainly seen a gooddeal. But here is mother."
Mrs. Hammond entered with a face beaming with delight.
"You never saw anyone so astonished as Mrs. Smith when I went in andordered all those things. Her eyes opened wider and wider as I went on,and when I offered her the gold I thought she would have a fit. She tookit and bit it to make sure that it was good, and then said: 'Have youfound it, Mrs. Hammond, or what good fortune have you had?'
" 'The best of fortunes, Mrs. Smith,' says I. 'My boy Will has come backfrom the wars a grand officer, with his pocket lined with gold, so youwill find I'll be a better customer to you than I have been.'
" 'You don't say so, Mrs. Hammond!' says she. 'I always thought he was anice boy, well spoken and civil. And so he is an officer, is he? Only tothink of it! Well, I am mighty pleased to hear it,' and with that I cameoff with my basket full of provisions. The whole village will be talkingof it before nightfall. Mrs. Smith is a good soul, but she is an arrantgossip, and you may be sure that the tale will gain by the telling, andbefore night people will believe that you have become one of the royalfamily."
In half an hour a meal was ready--tea, crisp slices of fried bacon, andsome boiled eggs--and never did three people sit down to table in a moredelighted state of mind.
"My life," the old woman said, when at last the meal was finished, "justto think that we'll be able to feed every day of the year like this! Why,we'll grow quite young again, John; we sha'n't know ourselves. We had fiveshillings a week before, and now we'll have six-and-twenty. I don't knowwhat we'll do with it. Why, we didn't get that on an average, not when youwere a young man and as good a fisherman as there was in the village. Wedid get more sometimes when you made a great haul, or when a cargo wasrun, but then, more often, when times were bad, we had to live on fish forweeks together."
"Now, missis, clear away the things and reach me down my pipe from themantel, and we'll hear Will's tales. I'll warrant me they will be worthlistening to."
When the table was cleared the old woman put some more coal on the fireand they sat round it, the old folk one on each side, with Will in themiddle. Then Will told his adventures, the fight with the French frigate,the battle with the three Moorish pirates, how he had had the luck to savethe first lieutenant's life and so obtained his promotion, and how thenext prize they took was recaptured, but that he and a portion of the crewagain overcame the Moors. Then he related how he had had the good fortuneto obtain the command of a prize, with forty men and another midshipmanunder him, and gave a vivid account of the adventures he had gone throughwhile cruising about in her.
"Well, well!" John Hammond said, when he brought his story to aconclusion, "you have had goings-on. To think that a boy like you shouldcommand a vessel and forty men, and should take three pirates."
"But the most awful part of it all," the old woman said, "is about themblack negroes that carried you off and were going to burn you alive. Lor',I'll dream of it at nights."
"I hope not, missis," John said. "You dream more than enough now, and wakeme up wi
th your jumps and starts, and give me a lot of trouble to pacifyyou and convince you that you have only been dreaming. I am sorry, Will,that you told us about those niggers. I know I'll have lots of troubleover it. Generally all she has had to dream about has been that my boatwas sinking, or that the revenue officers had taken me and were going tohang me; but that will be nothing to this 'ere negro business."
"They are terrible creatures these negroes, ain't they?" the old womansaid. "I have heard tell that they have horns and hoofs like the devil."
"No, no, mother, they are not so bad as that, and they don't have tails,either. They are not good-looking men for all that, and they lookspecially ugly when they are gathering firewood to make a bonfire of you."
"For goodness sake don't say more about them; it makes me all come over ina sweat to think about them."
Just at this moment Tom Stevens came in and sat and chatted for some time.Will asked him to come in again later and to bring with him a bottle ofthe best spirits he could find in the village.
"I'll warrant I will get some good stuff," Tom said. "There are plenty ofkegs of the best hidden away in the village, and I think I know where tolay my hand on one of them."
Will then went to the rectory and had a chat with Mr. Warden, who wasunaffectedly glad to see him.
"I never quite approved," he said, "of my daughter's hobby of educatingyou, but I now see that she was perfectly right. I thought myself that atbest you would obtain some small clerkship, and that your life would be ahappier one as a fisherman. It has, however, turned out admirably well,and she has a right to be proud of her pupil. After the way you have begunthere is nothing in your own line to which you may not attain."
"I wanted to ask you, Mr. Warden, what you could remember about my father.My own recollection of him is very dim. I am going to sea again in a week,but next time I return I'll have a longer spell on shore, and I amresolved to make an effort to discover who he was."
"I fear that is quite hopeless, but I will certainly tell you all I knowabout him. I saw him, of course, many times in the village. He was a tallthin man with what I might call a devil-may-care, and at the same time amournful expression. I have no doubt that had his death not been so suddenhe would have told you something about himself. I have his effects tied upin a bundle. I examined them at the time, but there was nothing of anyvalue in them except a signet-ring. It bore a coat-of-arms with a falconat the top. I intended to hand this to you when you grew up, but of courseyou left so suddenly that I had no opportunity to do so. I will give youthe bundle now."
"Thank you very much, sir! That ring may be the means of discovering myidentity. Of course I have no time to make enquiries now, but when I nextreturn I will advertise largely and offer a reward for information. It isnot that I want to thrust myself on any family, or to raise any claim, butI should like, for my own satisfaction, to know that I come of a decentfamily."
"That is very natural," the clergyman said; "but were I you I should nothope to be successful. You see, nearly thirteen years have elapsed sincehis death, and he may have been wandering about for three or four yearsbefore. That is a long time to elapse before making any enquiries."
"That may be so, but if these arms belong, as I suppose, to a good family,there must be others bearing them, and an advertisement of a lost memberof it might at once catch their eye, and might very possibly bring areply. Besides, surely there must be some place where a record is kept ofthese things."
"I do not know that, but I am sure I wish you success in your search, andcan well understand that, now you are an officer in His Majesty's navy,you would like to claim relationship with some big family."
"Quite so, sir. Of course I cannot imagine how it was my father came to bein such reduced circumstances."
"I should say, Will, that he quarrelled with his father, perhaps over hismarriage, and left home in a passion. He was a man who, I could wellimagine, when he once quarrelled, would not be likely to take the firststep to make it up."
"Perhaps that was it, sir. Well, I am exceedingly obliged to you, andwill, you may be sure, investigate the contents of the bundle carefully."
Returning to the cottage, Will found Tom Stevens already there with asmall keg of brandy.
"This is good stuff, Will," he said; "it has been lying hidden for eightyears, and was some of the choicest landed. I got it as a favour, and hadto pay pretty high for it; but I knew you would not stick at the price."
"Certainly not, I wanted the best that could be got. Now, mother, mix usthree good stiff tumblers, and take a glass for yourself."
"It is twenty year since I tasted spirits," the old woman said, "thoughJohn has often got a drop after a successful run; but this afternoon Idon't mind if I do try a little, if it is only to put the thought of thembonfiring negroes out of my mind."
"I hope it will have that effect," Will laughed.
"Now, John, I told you about my adventures; let me hear a little villagegossip."
John's tale was not a very long, nor, it must be owned, a very interestingone. Mary Johnson, Elizabeth Cruikshank, Mary Leaper, and Susie Thurstonhad all had boys, while there had been five girls born. It was notnecessary, however, to specify the names of their mothers, as girls wereconsidered quite secondary persons in Scarcombe. One small cargo had beenrun, but the revenue people were so sharp that the French lugger had givenup making the village a landing-place. John Mugby and his two sons hadbeen drowned, and John Hawkins's boat had been smashed up. As a result ofthe decline of smuggling there had been a revulsion of the feeling againstWill, and the four men who had been the ringleaders in the movement hadmade themselves so generally obnoxious that they had had to leave thevillage.
At seven o'clock Will said:
"Now, father, I must be moving. Here are fifty guineas. They will last youfor nearly a year. I'll hand another fifty to Mr. Archer, and ask him tosend you twenty pounds at a time. I'll probably be back in England beforeit has all gone, and if not I will manage to find a means of sending moreover to you."
"I sha'n't sleep," the old woman said; "I never shall sleep with all thatmoney in the house. It is sure to get known about, and I should never feelsafe."
"Very well, mother, take the money up to Mr. Warden, and ask him to handyou a guinea every Monday."
"Tom Stevens," said the old woman, "I will ask you to go up to the rectorywith me this very evening. I daren't keep it here, and I daren't carry itthrough the village, for there might be a pedlar about, and everybodyknows that pedlars are apt to be thieves."
"Very well," Tom said with a smile, "I will go with you, missis, when Willhas left. I am big enough to tackle a pedlar if we meet one on the way."
"Thank you very heartily, Tom! I'll be comfortable now; but I should neverget a wink of sleep with fifty gold guineas in the house."
Will had noticed that the old couple's clothes were sorely patched, andthe next morning he purchased a complete new outfit for both. These hesent over by a carrier, with a note, saying: "My dear father, it is onlyright that you should start with a fair outfit, and I therefore send youand the missis a supply that will last you for some time."
Tom Stevens came over two days later, and he and Will started together forLondon. On their arrival at Portsmouth they at once joined the _Tartar_,which was quite ready to sail, and which was under orders to join LordHood's fleet in the Mediterranean.