Well, Stephen, you have been wrecked again, I am told? said Kenneth.
So I have, sir; its the sixth time now. Its quite plain I aint born to be drownded. I only hope as how I wont live to be hanged.
I hope not, Stephen. What was the name of the ship?
The Fairy Queen.
The Fairy Queen, echoed Kenneth, with a slight feeling of disappointment; from Australia?
Yes, from Australia.
Did she go to pieces?
Ay, not an inch of her left. She was an old rotten tub not fit for sea.
Indeed! Thats by no means an uncommon state of things, said Kenneth, with some degree of warmth. It seems to me that until men in power take the matter up, and get a more rigid system of inspection instituted, hundreds of lives will continue to be sacrificed every year. It is an awful thing to think that more than a thousand lives are lost annually on our shores, and that because of the indifference of those who have the power, to a large extent, to prevent it. But that is not the point on which I want to speak to you to-day. Was the Fairy Queen bound for this port?
No; for the port of London, said Gaff, with a cautious glance at his questioner.
Then why did she make for Wreckumoft? inquired Kenneth.
Thats best known to the capn, whos gone to his long home, said Gaff gravely.
Were all lost except yourself? pursued Kenneth, regarding his companions face narrowly; but the said face exhibited no expression whatever as its owner replied simply
Its more than I can tell; mayhap some of em were carried away on bits o wreck and may turn up yet.
At all events none of them came ashore, to your knowledge?
I believe that every mothers son o the crew wos lost but me, replied Gaff evasively.
Were none of the children saved?
What childn? asked the other quickly. I didnt say there was childn aboord, did I?
Kenneth was somewhat confused at having made this slip; and Gaff, suddenly changing his tactics, stopped short and said
I tell ee wot it is, young manseems to me youre pumpin of me for some ends of yer own as Im not acquainted with; now, I tell ee wot it is, I aint used to be pumped. No offence meant, but I aint used to be pumped, an if youve got anything to say, speak it out fair and above board like a man.
Well, well, Gaff, said Kenneth, flushing and laughing at the same moment, to say truth, I am not used to pump, as you may see, nor to be otherwise than fair and aboveboard, as I hope you will believe; but the fact is that a very curious thing has occurred at our house, and I am puzzled as well as suspicious, and very anxious about it.
Here Kenneth related all that he knew about the little girl having been left at Seaside Villa, and candidly admitted his suspicion that the child was his niece.
But, said Gaff, whose visage was as devoid of expression as a fiddle figure-head, your brother-in-laws name was Graham, you know.
True, thats what puzzles me; the childs Christian name is Emmathe same as that of my niece and sisterbut she says her last name is Wilson.
Well, then, Wilson aint Graham, you know, any more nor Gaff aint Snooks, dye see?
Yes, I see; but Im puzzled, for I do see a family likeness to my sister in this child, and I cannot get rid of the impression, although I confess that it seems unreasonable. And the thought makes me very anxious, because, if I were correct in my suspicion, that would prove that my beloved sister and her husband are drowned.
Kenneth said this with strong feeling, and the seaman looked at him more earnestly than he had yet done.
Your father was hard on your sister and her husband, if I beant misinformed, said Gaff.
He thought it his duty to be so, answered Kenneth.
And you agreed with him? pursued Gaff.
No, never! cried the other indignantly. I regretted deeply the course my father saw fit to pursue. I sympathised very strongly with my dear sister and poor Tom Graham.
Did you? said Gaff.
Most truly I did.
Hum. You spoke of suspicionswot was your suspicions?
To be candid with you, then, said Kenneth, when I came to see you I suspected that it was you who left that child at our house, for I heard of your sudden re-appearance in Cove, but I am convinced now that I was wrong, for I know you would not tell me a falsehood, Gaff.
No more I would, sir, said Gaff, drawing himself up, and no more I did; but let me tell to you, sir, nevertheless, that your suspicions is crect. I left Emmie Wilson at your house, and Emmie Wilson is Emma Graham!
Kenneth stopped and looked earnestly at his companion.
My sister and brother? he asked in a low suppressed voice.
Dead, both of em, said Gaff.
With a mighty effort Kenneth restrained his feelings, and, after walking in silence for some time, asked why Gaff had concealed this from his family, and how it happened that the child did not know her proper name.
You see, sir, replied the sailor, Ive knowd all along of your fathers ill-will to Mr Graham and his wife, for I went out with them to Australia, and they tuk a fancy to me, dye see, an so did I to them, so we made it up that wed jine company, pull in the same boat, so to speak, though it was on the land we was goin and not the sea. Theres a proverb, sir, that says, misfortin makes strange bed fellows, an I spose its the same proverb as makes strange messmates; anyhow, poor Tom Graham, he an me an his wife, we become messmates, an of course we spun no end o yarns about our kith and kin, so I found out how your father had treated of em, which to say truth I warnt sprised at, for Ive obsarved for years past that hes hard as nails, altho he is your father, sir, an has let many a good ship go to the bottom for want o bein properly found
You need not criticise my father, Gaff, said Kenneth, with a slight frown. Many mens sins are not so black as they look. Prevailing custom and temptation may have had more to do with his courses of action than hardness of heart.
I dun know that, said Gaff, howsever, I dont mean for to krittysise him, though Im bound to say his sins is uncommon dark grey, if they aint black. Well, I wos a-goin to say that Mr Graham had some rich relations in Melbourne as he didnt want for to see. He was a proud man, you know, sir, an didnt want em to think he cared a stiver for em, so he changed his name to Wilson, an let his beard an mowstaches grow, so that when he put his cap on there was nothin of him visible except his eyes and his nose stickin out of his face, an when his hair grew long, an his face was tanned wi the sun, his own mother would have cut him dead if shed met him in the street.
Well, we worked a year in Melbourne to raise the wind. Tom, (he made me call him Tom, sir), bein a clever fellow, got into a store as a clerk, an I got work as a porter at the quays; an though his work was more gentlemanly than mine, I made very near as much as him, so we lived comfortable, and laid by a little. That winter little Emma was born. She just come to poor Tom and his wife like a great sunbeam. Arter that we went a year to the diggins, and then I got to weary to see my old missus, so I left em with a promise to return. I comd home, saw my wife, and then went out again to jine the Grahams for another spell at the diggins; then I come home again for another spell wi the missus, an so I kep goin and comin, year by year, till now.
Tom was a lucky digger. He resolved to quit for good and all, and return to settle in England. He turned all he had into gold-dust, and put it in a box, with which he shipped aboard the Fairy Queen, of which I was one o the crew at the time. The Fairy Queen, you must understand, had changed owners just about that time, havin bin named the Hawk on the voyage out. We sailed together, and got safe to British waters, an wos knocked all to bits on British rocks, cause the compasses wasnt worth a button, as no more wos our charts, bein old ones, an the chain o the best bower anchor had bin got cheap, and wasnt fit to hold a jolly-boat, so that wen we drove on a lee-shore, and let go the anchor to keep off the reefs, it parted like a bit o packthread. I took charge of Emmie, and, by Gods blessin, got safe to land. All the rest went down.
Now, sir, continued Gaff, it came into my head that if I took the little gal to her grandfather, he, bein as hard as nails, an desprit unforgivin, would swear I wos tellin a lie, and refuse to take her in. So I thought Id just go and put her down in the passage an leave her, so that hed be obleeged to take her in, dye see, not bein able to see what else to do wi her. You know he couldnt throw her out, and let her die in the street, could he, sir?
Not exactly, replied Kenneth, with a sad smile, nevertheless he would not find it difficult to dispose of her in some other way; in fact, he has already spoken of sending her to the workhouse.
You dont say so, sir?
Indeed I do, but keep your mind easy, Gaff, for, without telling my father who little Emmie is, I will see to it that she is properly cared for.
Kenneth rode back to town that day with a heart so heavy that the bright eyes of Lizzie Gordon failed to rouse him to even the semblance of cheerfulness, and the effervescing small-talk of the volatile Gildart was almost intolerable.
Chapter Eight.
Dan Horsey does the Agreeable in the Kitchen
Captain Bingley, said Kenneth, entering my study somewhat hastily on the following morning, I am going to carry off Gildart for the day to have a ride with me, and I looked in on you in passing to tell you that Haco has arrived in his schooner, and that he is going to sail this evening for London and will take your Russians to their consul if you wish it.
Thank you, lad; many thanks, said I, some of them may be able to go, but others, I fear, are too much hurt, and may require to be nursed in the Home for some time yet. I will consider it; meanwhile will you carry a note to your father for me?
With pleasure; at least I will send Dan Horsey with it, if that will do as well.
Quite as well, if you can spare him; send him into the kitchen while I write the note. Adieu, lad, and see that you dont break Gildarts neck. Remember that he is not much accustomed to horses.
No fear of him, said Kenneth, looking back with a laugh as he reached the door, he is well used to riding out hard gales, and that is more arduous work than steeple-chasing. When Dan Horsey was told to go to the kitchen and await further orders, he received the command with a cheerful smile, and, attaching the bridle of his horse to a post, proceeded to obey it.
The kitchen of Bingley Hall was the abode of two females who severally owned a distinct and dissimilar character, both mental and physical. The first femalefirst in most senses of the wordwas Bounder the cook, who was fat, as cooks ought to be in order to prove that their productions agree with them; and self-opinionated, as cooks generally are, in order, no doubt, to prove that they know their business.
The second female was Susan Barepoles, a slim, graceful housemaid, apparently modest, (cook did not even pretend to that virtue), and wonderfully sharp-eyed. Both females were good-looking and young, and both were desperately in love with Daniel Horsey. Each knew the fact, and so did Dan. Each was mortally jealous of the other, and Dan was dreadfully perplexed in consequence.
Not that he was uncertain as to which of the two he preferred, for Susans image was engruven, as he expressed it, deeply on his heart, to the exclusion of all other images, but he found that the jealousy of the two interfered somewhat with the course of true love, causing it to run in its proverbially rough channel.
Its a fine mornin, my darlints, said Dan, as he entered the kitchen with a swagger, and laid his hat and riding-whip on the dresser, at the same time seating himself on the edge of a small table that stood near the window. This seat he preferred to a chair, partly because it enabled him to turn his back to the light, and partly because it afforded him an opportunity of swinging his legs gently with an easy motion that was agreeable, and, at the same time, in his opinion, graceful.
None o yer imperance, said cook, stirring the contents of a large pan carefully.
Susan tossed her head slightly, but admitted that the morning was good.
Hes a-writin of a letter to Grumpy, said Dan, pointing with his thumb towards the ceiling, in order to indicate that the he referred to was myself.
Whos Grumpy? inquired cook, with a look of interest.
Arrah, now, dont ye know its old Stuart?
Susan laughed, and cook observed that the name seemed to her an extremely disrespectful one.
Its not bad enough for him, the old pair o tongs, said Dan, taking up his whip with a gentlemanly assumption of ease, and flipping the toe of his boot with it; av it wasnt for the love that my master Kenneth bears me, Id have left em long ago. But, you see, the young master is a first-rater, and couldnt get on without me no how, so Im willin to stop. Besides, continued Dan, with a very small sigh, I have private raisons for not carin to leave just now.
He accompanied the latter remark with a sly glance at Susan, who chanced quite accidentally to cast a sly glance at Dan, so that their eyes met, and the result was that Susan blushed and began to rub the silver tea-pot, which she was cleaning, unmercifully, and Dan laughed. Whereupon cook looked round hastily and asked what he was laughing at, to which Dan responded that his own imagination, which happened to be a brilliant one, had just then suggested a train of comical ideas which had tickled his risible muscles so that he couldnt help it!
I dont believe it, said cook, who observed Susans confusion of face, and became internally red hot with jealousy, I blieve you was larfin at me.
Och, Miss Bounder! exclaimed Dan, looking at her with an expression so awfully reproachful that cook instantly repented and laughed.
Theres bin some strange doins up at the Villa, said Susan, by way of changing the subject, while she polished the tea-pot yet more unmercifully.
Ah, exclaimed cook, thats true; what does it all mean, Mr Horsey?
Thats more nor myself can tell, said Dan; the facts o the case is clear, so far as they comed under our obsarvation. But as to the circumstances o the case, specially those of em as hasnt yet transpired, I dont rightly know myself wot opinions I ought to entertain.
Susan listened to these remarks with profound admiration, chiefly because she did not understand them; but cook, who was more matter-of-fact in her nature, and somewhat demonstrative in her tendencies, advised Dan not to talk gammon, but to explain what he meant.
Explain what I mean, coolinary sunbeam! said Dan; isnt it explainin that I am as plain as the nose on yer face, (an a purty wan it is), though I havent got the powers of a lawyer, nor yit a praist? Didnt a drippin wet sailor come to our door at the dead o night an ring the bell as bowld as brass, an when Mrs Niven, whose intellect was niver much beyond that of a poplypus