But, continued the old gentleman, the rascal had no right to enter my house without ringing. He might have been a thief, you know. He looked rough and coarse enough to be one.
Oh papa, said Aileen entreatingly, dont be too hasty in judging those who are sometimes called rough and coarse. I do assure you Ive met many men in my district who are big and rough and coarse to look at, but who have the feelings and hearts of tender women.
I know it, simple one; you must not suppose that I judged him by his exterior; I judged him by his rude manner and conduct, and I do not extend my opinion of him to the whole class to which he belongs.
It is strangeand illustrative of the occasional perversity of human reasoningthat Mr Hazlit did not perceive that he himself had given the diver cause to judge him, Mr Hazlit, very harshly, and the worst of it was that Maxwell did, in his wrath, extend his opinion of the merchant to the entire class to which he belonged, expressing a deep undertoned hope that the whole bilin of em might end their days in a place where he spent many of his own, namely, at the bottom of the sea. It is to be presumed that he wished them to be there without the benefit of diving-dresses!
It is curious, however, continued Mr Hazlit, that I had been thinking this very morning about making inquiries after a diver, one whom I have frequently heard spoken of as an exceedingly able and respectable manBalding or Bolding or some such name, I think.
Oh! Baldwin, Joe Baldwin, as his intimate friends call him, said Aileen eagerly. I know him well; he is in my district.
What! exclaimed Mr Hazlit, not one of your paupers?
Aileen burst into a merry laugh. No, papa, no; not a pauper certainly. Hes a well-off diver, and a Wesleyana local preacher, I believebut he lives in my district, and is one of the most zealous labourers in it. Oh! If you saw him, papa, with his large burly frame and his rough bronzed kindly face, and broad shoulders, and deep bass voice and hearty laugh.
The word suggested the act, for Aileen went off again at the bare idea of Joe Baldwin being a pauperone at whose feet, she said, she delighted to sit and learn.
Well, Im glad to have such a good account of him from one so well able to judge, rejoined her father, and as I mean to go visit him without delay Ill be obliged if youll give me his address.
Having received it, the merchant sallied forth into those regions of the town where, albeit she was not a guardian of the poor, his daughters light figure was a much more familiar object than his own.
Does a diver named Baldwin live here? asked Mr Hazlit of a figure which he found standing in a doorway near the end of a narrow passage.
The figure was hazy and indistinct by reason of the heavy wreaths of tobacco-smoke wherewith it was enveloped.
Yis, sur, replied the figure; he lives in the door it the other ind o the passage. Its not over-light here, sur; mind yer feet as ye go, an pay attintion to your head, for what betune holes in the floor an beams in the ceilin, tall gintlemen like you, sur, come to grief sometimes.
Thanking the figure for its civility, Mr Hazlit knocked at the door indicated, but there was no response.
Sure its out they are! cried the figure from the other end of the passage. Joe Baldwins layin a charge under the wreck off the jetty to-dayno doubt thats whats kep im, and its washin-day with Mrs Joe, I belave; but Im his pardner, sur, an if yell step this way, Mrs Machowlll be only too glad to see ye, sur, an I can take yer orders.
Not a little amused by this free-and-easy invitation, Mr Hazlit entered a small apartment, which surprised him by its clean and tidy appearance. A pretty little Irishwoman, with a pert little turned-up nose, auburn hair so luxuriant that it could not be kept in order, and a set of teeth that glistened in their purity, invited him to sit down, and wiped a chair with her apron for his accommodation.
Youve got a nice little place here, remarked the visitor, looking round him.
Troth, sur, ye wouldnt have said that if youd seen it whin we first came to it. Of all the dirty places I iver saw! I belave an Irish pig would have scunnered at it, an held his nose till he got out. Its very well for England, but we was used to cleaner places in the owld country. Howsiver weve got it made respictable now, and were not hard to plaze.
This was a crushing reply. It upset Mr Hazlits preconceived ideas regarding the two countries so completely that he was perplexed. Not being a man of rapid thought he changed the subject:
You are a diver, you say?
I am, sur.
And Mr Baldwins partnerif I understand you correctly?
Well, we work togetherwhin were not workin apartpritty regular. He took in hand to train me some months gone by, an as our two missusses has took a fancy to aich other, were likely to hold on for some timebarrin accidents, av coorse.
Well, then, said Mr Hazlit, I came to see Mr Baldwin about a vessel of mine, which was wrecked a few days ago on the coast of Wales
Och! The Seagull it is, exclaimed Rooney.
The same; and as it is a matter of importance that I should have the wreck visited without delay, I shall be obliged by your sending your partner to my house this evening.
Rooney promised to send Baldwin up, and took his wife Molly to witness, with much solemnity, that he would not lose a single minute. Thereafter the conversation became general, and at last the merchant left the place much shaken in his previous opinion of Irish character, and deeply impressed with the sagacity of Rooney Machowl.
The result of this visit was that Baldwin was engaged to dive for the cargo of the Seagull, and found himself, a few days later, busy at work on the Welsh coast with a staff of men under him, among whom were our friends Rooney Machowl and surly David Maxwell. The latter had at first declined to have anything to do with the job, but, on consideration of the wages, he changed his mind.
Chapter Five.
Treats of Plots and Plans, Engineering and otherwise
The spot where the wreck of the Seagull lay was a peaceful sequestered cove or bay on the coast of Anglesea. The general aspect of the neighbouring land was bleak. There were no trees, and few bushes. Indeed, the spire of a solitary little church on an adjoining hill was the most prominent object in the scene. The parsonage belonging to it was concealed by a rise in the ground, and the very small hamlet connected with it was hid like a rabbit in the clefts of some rugged cliffs. The little church was one of those temples which are meant to meet the wants of a rural district, and which cause a feeling of surprise in the minds of town visitors as to where the congregation can come from that fills them.
But, bleak though the country was, the immediate shore was interesting and romantic in its form. In one place perpendicular cliffs, cut up by ragged gorges, descended sheer down into deep water, and meeting the constant roll of the Irish Channel, even in calm weather, fringed themselves with lace-work of foam, as if in cool defiance of the ocean. In another place a mass of boulders and shattered rocks stretched out into the sea as if still resistant though for the time subdued. Elsewhere a half-moon of yellow sand received the ripples with a kiss, suggestive of utter conquest and the end of strife.
As we have said, the spot was peaceful, for, at the time to which we refer, ocean and air were still, but ah! Those who have not dwelt near the great deep and beheld its fury when roused can form but a faint conception of the scene that occurred there on the night in which the Seagull went down!
Mr Hazlit thought of the place as something like the region of a bad debt,where a portion of his wealth had been wrecked. Some knew it as the hated spot where they had suffered the loss of all their fortune; but others there were, who, untouched by the thought of material gain or loss, knew it as the scene of the wreck of all their earthly hopesfor the Seagull had been a passenger-ship, and in that quiet bay God in His providence had dealt some of the most awful blows that human beings are capable of bearing.
Close to a bald cliff on the northern shore the foretopmast of the wreck rose a few feet above the calm water. In a cove of the cliff the remains of a mast or yard lay parallel with a deep and thick mass of wreckage, which had surged out and into that cove on the fatal night with such violence that it now lay in small pieces, like giant matchwood. On a patch of gravel not far from that cliff a husband and father had wandered for many days, after being savedhe knew not howgazing wistfully, hopelessly at the sea which had swallowed up wife and children and fortune. He had been a successful gold-digger! On that patch of gravel scenes of terrible suspense had been enacted. Expectant ones had come to inquire whether those whom they sought had really embarked in that vessel, while grave and sympathetic but worn-out or weary men of the Coast-guard, stood ready to give information or to defend the wreck.
In the church on the hill there were dreadful marks on the floor, where the recovered bodies had lain for a time, while frantic relations came and went day by day to search for and claim their dead. Ah, reader, we are not mocking you with fiction. What we refer to is fact. We saw it with our eyes. Peaceful though that spot lookedand often looksit was once the scene of the wildest of storms, the most terrible of mercantile disasters, and the deepest of human woe.
But we are mingling thoughts with memories. The wreck which has crept into our mind is that of the Royal Charter. The Seagull, although a passenger-ship, and wrecked near the same region, does not resemble that!
At the time of which we write, Joe Baldwin and his men had already saved a considerable portion of the cargo, but during his submarine explorations and meditations Joe had conceived the idea that there was some possibility of saving the vessel itself, for, having recoiled from its first shock and sunk in deep water, the hull was comparatively uninjured.
But Joe, although a good diver, was not a practical engineer. He knew himself to be not a very good judge of such matters, and was too modest to suggest anything to competent submarine engineers. He could not, however, help casting the thing about in his mind for some time. At last, one evening while reading a newspaper that had been got from a passing boat, he observed the return of the ship in which his young friend Edgar Berrington had gone to India. At once he wrote the following letter:
My dear Mister Edgar,Im in a fix here. Its my opinion theres a chance of savin a wreck if only good brains was set to work to do it. It would pay if we was to succeed. If you happen to be on the loose just now, as is likely, run over an see what you think of it.Yours to command,
J.B.
Our hero received the letter, at once acted on it, and in a few days was on the spot.
What a change there is in you, my dear sir! said Joe, looking with admiration at the browned, stalwart youth before him; why, youve grown moustaches!
I couldnt help it, Joe, replied Edgar; they would come, and I had no time to shave on board.But now, tell me about this wreck.
When Edgar heard that the vessel belonged to Mr Hazlit his first impulse was to have nothing to do with it. He felt that any interference in regard to it would seem like a desire to thrust himself before the merchants noticeand that, too, in a needy manner, as if he sought employment at his hands; but on consideration he came to the conclusion that he might act as a wire-puller, give Baldwin the benefit of his knowledge, and allow him to reap the credit and the emoluments. But for a long time the honest diver would not listen to such a suggestion, and was only constrained to give in at last when Edgar threatened to leave him altogether.
By the way, have you seen Miss Aileen since you came home? asked Baldwin, while the two friends were seated in the cabin of the divers vessel poring, pencil in hand, over several sheets of paper on which were sundry mysterious designs.
No; I was on the point of paying a visit to my good aunt Miss Pritty, with ulterior ends in view, when your letter reached me and brought me here. To say truth, your note arrived very opportunely, for I was engaged at the time in rather a hard struggle between inclination and dutynot feeling quite sure whether it was right or wise to throw myself in her way just now, for, as you may easily believe, I have not, during my comparatively short absence, made a fortune that is at all likely to satisfy the requirements of her father.
I suppose not, returned the diver. No doubt, at gold-diggins an diamond-fields an such-like one does hear of a man makin a find that enables him to set up his carriage an four, and ride, mayhap at a tremendous pace, straight on to ruin by means of it, but as a rule people dont pick up sovereigns like stones either at home or abroad. Its the experience of most men, that steady perseverance leads by the shortest road to competence, if not to wealth.But thats beside the question. I think you did right, Mister Eddyexcuse an old servant, sir, if its taking too much liberty to use the old familiar name,you did right in coming here instead of going there.
So thought I, Baldyyou see that I too can take liberties,else I should not have come. Your letter solved the difficulty, for, when I was at the very height of the struggle before mentionedat equipoise so to speak,and knew not whether to go to the right or to the left, that decided me. I regarded it as a leading of Providence.
Baldwin turned a rather sudden look of surprise on his young companion.
A leading of Providence, Mr Eddy! I never heard you use such an expression before.
True, but I have learned to use it since I went to sea, replied our hero quietly.
Thats strange, rejoined the diver in a low voice, as if he feared to scare the young man from a subject that was very near his own heart, very strange, for goin to sea has not often the effect of makin careless young fellows seriousthough it sometimes has, no doubt. How was it, if I
Yes, Baldy, interrupted Edgar, with a pleasant smile, laying his hand on the divers huge shoulder, I dont mind making a confidant of you in this as in other matters. Ill tell you,the story is short enough. When I parted from Aileen, she made me a present of a New Testament from a pile that she happened to have by her to give to the poor people. To be more particular, I asked for one, and she consented to let me have it. You see I wanted a keepsake! Well, when at sea, I read the Testament regularly, night and morning, for Aileens sake, but God in His great love led me at last to read it for the sake of Him whose blessed life and death it records.