CHAPTER II.

The conversation which he had had with his grand-uncle made a very

forcible impression upon Alexander Wilmot; it occasioned him to pass a

very sleepless night, and he remained till nearly four o'clock turning

it over in his mind. The loss of the _Grosvenor_ Indiaman had occurred

long before he was born; he was acquainted with the outline of what had

taken place, and had been told, when a child, that a relation of his

family had perished; but although the narrative had, at the time, made

some impression upon his young mind, he had seldom, if ever, heard it

spoken of since, and may have been said to have almost forgotten it. He

was therefore not a little surprised when he found how great an

influence it had upon his grand-uncle, who had never mentioned it to him

before; indeed it had escaped Alexander's memory that it was his

grand-uncle's only surviving daughter who had been lost in the vessel.

Alexander Wilmot was warmly attached to the old gentleman; indeed he

would have been very ungrateful if he had not been, for it was

impossible that any one could have been treated with more kindness and

liberality than he was by Sir Charles. It was but the week before, that

he had expressed a wish to travel on the continent, and Sir Charles had

immediately given his consent that he should remain abroad, if he

pleased, for two years. When he approved, however, of Alexander's plans,

he had made a remark as to his own age and infirmity, and the probable

chance that they might not meet again in this world; and this remark of

his grand-uncle left such an impression upon Alexander, that he almost

repented having made the request, and had been ever since in a state of

indecision as to whether he should avail himself of his grand-uncle's

kindness and disregard of self shown toward him in thus having granted

his permission.

The conversation with Sir Charles had brought up a new idea in his mind;

he had witnessed the anxiety and longing which his good old relation had

shown about the fate of his daughter; he had heard from his own lips how

long the ignorance of her fate had preyed upon his mind, and that to be

satisfied on this point was the one thing wanting to enable the old man

to die happy,--to permit him to say with sincerity, "Lord, now lettest

Thou thy servant depart in peace." Why, then, should he not go to

discover the truth? It would not, perhaps, occupy him so long as the two

years of traveling on the continent, which had been consented to by his

grand-uncle, and, instead of traveling for his own pleasure, he might be

the means of satisfying the mind and quieting the anxiety of one who had

been so kind to him. Indeed, he should actually prefer a journey into

the interior of Africa to a mere sojourn of some time on the continent;

the very peril and danger, the anticipation of distress and hardship,

were pleasing to his high and courageous mind, and before he fell asleep

Alexander had made up his mind that he would propose the expedition, and

if he could obtain his uncle's permission would proceed upon it

forthwith. Having come to this resolution, he fell fast asleep and

dreamed away, till eight o'clock in the morning, that he was hunting

elephants and having hand-to-hand conflicts with every variety of beast

with which he had peopled Africa in his fancy. When he was called up in

the morning, he found his determination of the night before rather

strengthened than otherwise, and accordingly, after breakfast was over,

he opened the subject.

"My dear sir," said he to Sir Charles, "you were kind enough to give me

your permission to travel on the continent for two years."

"I did do so, Alexander; it is natural at your age that you should wish

to see the world, and you have my full permission. When do you think of

starting?"

"That depends upon circumstances, sir, and I must be altogether guided

by you; to tell you the truth, I do not think that one sees much of the

world by following in the beaten track made by so many of our

countrymen."

"There I agree with you; in the present high state of civilization there

will be found little or no difference in the manners and customs of

people; in the courts, none; very little in the best society, in which

you will of course mix; and not so very much as people may imagine among

the mass of population; but the scenery of the countries and the remains

of ancient times are still interesting, and will afford pleasure; it

must be your own reflections and comments upon what you see which must

make it profitable; most people, however, travel from the love of change

added to the love of excitement."

"I grant it, sir, and I do not mean to say but that I should receive

much pleasure from a continental tour; perhaps I may add that I should

derive more profit if I were to delay it till I am a little older and a

little wiser; do you not think so?"

"I certainly do, Alexander. What then? do you propose remaining in

England for the present?--if so, I am sure it is on my account, and I am

very grateful to you for your sacrifice."

"If you wish it, sir, I will undoubtedly remain in England; at all

events, if I do not go elsewhere. I have abandoned my continental tour

for the present; but I have another proposal to make, which I hope will

meet with your approbation."

"Why, my dear Alexander, on what expedition would you now proceed? Do

you wish to visit the United States or South America?"

"No, sir; I wish to make a voyage of still more interest--I wish to go

to Africa,--that is, to embark for the Cape of Good Hope, and from

thence proceed to the northward, to ascertain, if possible, what now is

a source of sad disquiet to you, the actual fate of those who were

wrecked in the _Grosvenor_, and have not since been heard of with any

degree of certainty."

Sir Charles was for a time silent. He pressed his hands to his forehead;

at last he removed them, and said,--"I can not, much as I wish it,

no,--I can not consent, my dear boy; the danger will be too great. You

must not risk your life. It is very kind of you--very kind; but no, it

must not be."

"Indeed, sir, I think, on reflection, you will alter your mind. As for

danger--what danger can there be when missionaries are permitted to form

their stations, and reside uninjured among the very savages who were so

hostile when the _Grosvenor_ was lost? The country, which was then a

desert, is now inhabited by Europeans, within 200 miles of the very spot

where the _Grosvenor_ was wrecked. The continual emigration since the

Cape has fallen under British government, and the zeal of those who have

braved all dangers to make known the Word of God to the heathen and

idolater, have in forty years made such an alteration, that I see no

more danger in the mission which I propose than I do in a visit to

Naples; and as for time, I have every reason to expect that I shall be

back sooner than in the two years which you have proposed for my stay on

the continent."

"But if some accident were to happen to you, I should never forgive

myself for having given my consent, and the few days that are left to me

would be rendered miserable."

"My dear sir, we are in the hands of God; and (short-sighted as we are)

in running away from danger, as often run into it. What we call an

accident, the fall of a brick or a stone, the upsetting of a vehicle,

any thing trivial or seemingly improbable, may summon us away when we

least expect it: 'In the midst of life we are in death,' and that death

I may meet by staying in this country, which I might have avoided by

going on this expedition. Difficulties may arise, and some danger there

may be, I admit; but when prepared to encounter both, we are more safe

than when, in fancied security, we are taken unawares. Do not, I entreat

you, sir, refuse me this favor; I have considered well, and shall be

most unhappy if I am not permitted to obtain the information for you

which you have so much at heart. Let my travels be of some advantage to

you as well as to myself. Do not refuse, I entreat you."

"You are a good boy, Alexander, and your kindness makes me still more

unwilling to part with you. I hardly know what to say. Let us drop the

subject for the present; we will talk of it to-morrow or next day. I

must have time for reflection."

Alexander Wilmot did not fail to renew his entreaties on the following

day, but could not gain Sir Charles's consent. He was not, however,

discouraged. He had taken from the library all the works he could find

relative to Southern Africa, and continually enforcing his arguments by

quotations from various authors, all tending to prove that he might

travel through the country without much risk, if he took proper

precautions, his grand-uncle's objections grew daily more feeble, and at

last Sir Charles gave his unwilling consent. In the meantime, the books

which Alexander had read had produced a great effect upon him. When he

first proposed the mission, it was more from a feeling of gratitude

toward his old relative than any other, but now he was most anxious to

go on his own account. The narratives of combats with wild beasts, the

quantity and variety of game to be found, and the continual excitement

which would be kept up, inflamed his imagination and his love of field

sports, and he earnestly requested to be permitted to depart

immediately, pointing out to Sir Charles that the sooner he went away,

the sooner he would be back again. This last argument was not without

its weight, and Alexander was allowed to make every preparation for his

journey. Inquiries were made, and a passage secured on board of a

free-trader, which was to touch at the Cape, and in six weeks from the

time that the subject had been brought up, Alexander Wilmot took leave

of his grand-uncle.

"May God bless you, sir, and keep you well till my return," said

Alexander, pressing his hand.

"May the Lord protect you, my dear boy, and allow you to return and

close my eyes," replied Sir Charles, with much emotion.

Before night Alexander Wilmot was in London, from thence he hastened

down to Portsmouth to embark. The next day, the _Surprise_ weighed

anchor and ran through the Needles, and before the night closed in was

well down the Channel, standing before the wind, with studding sails

below and aloft.

The Mission · 第 2 / 29 章