Produced by (This file was produced from images generously
made available by The Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
Produced by the Online Distributed Proofreading Canada
Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net
FLORA LYNDSAY;
OR,
PASSAGES IN AN EVENTFUL LIFE.
BY MRS. MOODIE.
AUTHOR OF "ROUGHING IT IN THE BUSH," "MARK HURDLESTONE,"
"LIFE IN THE CLEARINGS," ETC.
IN TWO VOLUMES.
VOL. II.
LONDON:
RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET.
1854.
LONDON:
R. CLAY, PRINTER, BREAD STREET HILL.
CONTENTS OF THE SECOND VOLUME.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
THE STATE CABIN 3
CHAPTER II.
FLORA'S FELLOW PASSENGERS 13
CHAPTER III.
THE LAST GLANCE OF SCOTLAND 29
CHAPTER IV.
STEPHEN CORRIE 38
CHAPTER V.
THE CAPTAIN'S PRENTICE 48
CHAPTER VI.
THE LOST JACKET, AND OTHER MATTERS 55
CHAPTER VII.
NOAH COTTON--THE WIDOW GRIMSHAWE AND HER NEIGHBOURS 73
CHAPTER VIII.
THE SISTERS 83
CHAPTER IX.
THE GHOST 102
CHAPTER X.
THE PROPOSAL 121
CHAPTER XI.
THE DISCLOSURE 132
CHAPTER XII.
THE NIGHT ALONE 146
CHAPTER XIII.
THE MEETING 154
CHAPTER XIV.
THE MURDERER'S MANUSCRIPT 159
CHAPTER XV.
MY FIRST LOVE 169
CHAPTER XVI.
TEMPTATION 179
CHAPTER XVII.
THE PLOT 189
CHAPTER XVIII.
THE MURDER 199
CHAPTER XIX.
MY MOTHER 210
CHAPTER XX.
A LAST LOOK AT THE OLD FRIENDS 218
CHAPTER XXI.
MY MOTHER AND THE SQUIRE 227
CHAPTER XXII.
EVIL THOUGHTS--THE PANGS OF REMORSE 242
CHAPTER XXIII.
TRUST IN GOD 253
CHAPTER XXIV.
FISHING ON THE BANKS 257
CHAPTER XXV.
THE STORM 275
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE SHIP COMES TO ANCHOR, AND THE BOOK TO A CLOSE 292
FLORA LINDSAY;
OR,
PASSAGES IN AN EVENTFUL LIFE.
CHAPTER I.
THE STATE CABIN.
Why the apartment, into which Flora retreated on going on board was
called a State-cabin, Flora could not imagine. It was really a very
small closet, about seven feet in length, and a very little broader than
it was long. It contained neither stool, bench, nor chair, and there was
just room enough after closing the door, to turn round. The top of a
large chest of painted deal drawers, with a raised board in front, and
screened by faded red stuff curtains, formed the bed; for which Lyndsay
had purchased a hair-mattress and feather pillows, to render it more
comfortable during the voyage for his wife and child. This was perched
up, however, at such an unreachable height from the ground, that the bed
was on a level with Mrs. Lyndsay's chin.
"How in the world shall I ever get into it?" said Flora, appealing to
her attendant in a tone half laughing, half crying. "If it is such a
difficult thing now when the ship is at anchor, what will it be when she
is plunging about in a storm?"
"You had better hax the capting, Marm. He must know the proper way of
climbing up, for it was his own berth."
"That will seem so absurd. He may, however, have a step-ladder to reach
it. Go to him, and ask him, with my compliments, how he gets into bed."
Hannah, returned laughing, and with flushed cheeks.
"La, Marm, he says 'that he gets in like other folks; that where there's
a will there's allers a way.' An' he burst out into such a loud roaring
laugh that it made me feel quite ashamed. Arter he had had his fun and
wiped his eye--he has but one, you knows, Marm--he cries out, 'Hout!
lass, let her jest make a flight of steps, by pulling out the drawers
one above another for a little way. They answer the purpose of stairs,
and if she's in downright earnest, she'll soon learn how to get in.'"
Flora was highly delighted with the result of Hannah's message. She
immediately attempted the method proposed by the rough sailor, and after
a trial or two, became quite expert in rolling in and out of the berth.
She now received a summons from the steward that "tea was ready."
"That's good news," said Hannah; "I feel quite raversome with hunger,
and if I don't lay in a good stock to-night I shall feel bad enough
to-morrow with the orrid sickness. The moment the ship begins to heave,
I shall be heaving too."
"Say nothing about it, Hannah,--enjoy yourself while you can."
"There's company in the cabin, Marm,--not 'zactly ladies, but kind of
ladies, such as Misses Waddel would call _decent_ folk. One of them was
sitting upon the Capting's knee when I went in, and drinking punch with
him out of the same glass."
"Very _decent_ ladies, truly," said Flora, doubtful whether to make one
of such a refined party. Just as she had determined to remain where she
was for the night, Lyndsay tapped at the door, and she called him in to
hold a consultation.
"Come away," said he, laughing, "it is only the Captain's wife, and the
mate's, with two of their sisters. Nice good-tempered women, who will
behave themselves with due decorum. Old Boreas will be quite hurt, if
you refuse to come out of your den, and play the amiable to his woman
folk."
Flora no longer hesitated. She emerged from her hiding-place into the
cabin, which now presented a very different appearance to what it had
done some hours before. All the confusion of trunks and packages that
had filled up the small available space had been removed, and it looked
as neat and comfortable as such a confined crib could possibly look
under the most favourable circumstances.
The company, consisting of four smartly-dressed young women, were ranged
along the bench opposite the door from which Flora made her debut.
They regarded her with a nervous, awkward agitation, as they rose
simultaneously and dropped as low a courtesy as the narrow space between
the bench and the table would allow. The ceremony of introduction then
commenced, by the Captain rising to his legs, and stretching out his
red, right hand with an air of dignity, "Mrs. Lyndsay, cabin passenger
in the brig _Anne_--Mrs. Williams, my wife, Ma'am,--Mrs. Collins, Mrs.
Lyndsay,--my wife's sister-in-law,--Miss Nancy and Betsy Collins, Mrs.
Lyndsay,--Mr. Collins, my first mate, and brother to Mrs. Williams, Mrs.
Lyndsay."
Then came the shaking of hands. Lyndsay, who observed the embarrassment
of the family party assembled in the cabin, received them with a frank
courtesy, which soon restored confidence, and set them at their ease;
though it was difficult to refrain from a smile at the scared look they
cast at each other when Mrs. Lyndsay took her seat among them; and the
dead silence which fell upon them, and checked the lively chattering
that a few minutes before had rung through the cabin.
Tea and coffee were smoking upon the table, which was covered with all
sorts of dainties, which the captain's wife had brought in a basket to
make merry with, and which she proffered to the strangers with true
Scotch hospitality, assuring them that the rich bun and short-bread had
been made with her _ain_ hands, as a little treat for Jock before
leaving the country.
"Meg forgets that I'm a rough English sailor, and don't care a fig for
her Scotch sunkets," quoth Boreas, speaking with his mouth full of short
bread. "A good red herring and a slice of Gloster cheese is worth them
all. But wilful women will have their own way, and I must eat the
mawkish trash to please her."
"An' find it varra gude, Jock, an' I'm no mistaken," said the buxom
fair-haired woman, tapping his rough cheek. "It wad be something new for
him to praise onything made by his ain wife."
And then she rattled away about the inconstancy of men, and of sailors
especially, in such a droll, provoking manner, that she forced her rude
lord to lay aside his dignity and laugh at her nonsense. She was a
comely, sonsy dame, neither very young, nor very pretty; but he was her
senior by many years, and he bore her raillery with the same grace that
a staid old cat submits to the impertinent caresses and cuffs of a
frolicsome kitten. When he growled and swore, she clapped her hands and
laughed, and called him her dear old sea-bear, and hoped that he would
not die of grief during her absence.
"Never fear, Meg, I don't mean to give you the chance of tormenting
another fellow out of his wits. I shall live long enough to plague you
yet."
"Na doubt," said Meg, "which thought will console me for your absence;
an' I sall be as merry as a lark until you return to execute your
threat."
"Meg, you are a daft woman," said Collins, the mate. "The captain does
na half like your teasing. Can't you leave him alone?"
"Mind your ain business, Wullie, an' take care of your ain wife. I canna
play the fule like Jean, wha's whimperin' by hersel in the corner."
This was indeed the case. Mrs. Collins had only been married a few
weeks, and the parting with her bridegroom was a heart-breaking affair.
They were a very interesting young couple; and the tall, fair girl sat
apart from the rest of the group, nursing an agony of fear in her gentle
breast, lest her Willie should be drowned, and she should never see him
again. She made desperate efforts to control her grief, and conceal the
tears that rolled in quick succession down her pale cheeks. Collins
sprang to her side, and circling her slender waist with his manly arm,
whispered into her ears loving words, full of hope and comfort. It
would not do: the poor girl could not be reconciled to the separation,
and answered all his tender endearments with low, stifled sobs, filling
the heart of the lover husband, with the grief which burthened her own.
Collins had a fine sensible face, though it had been considerably marred
by the small-pox. His features were straight and well-cut, his hair dark
and curling, his handsome grey eyes full of manly fire. Though not
exactly a gentleman, he possessed high and honourable feelings, and his
frank manners and independent bearing won for him the goodwill and
respect of all.
Doubtless Jean thought him the handsomest man in a' Scotland; and most
women would have said that he was a good-looking dashing sailor. As he
bent over his disconsolate weeping bride, with such affectionate earnest
love beaming from his fine eyes, and tried with gentle words to
reconcile her to their inevitable parting, he afforded a striking
contrast to his superior, who regarded a temporary absence from his
spouse as a thing of course,--a mere matter of business, which he bore
with his usual affectation of stubborn indifference.
Feeling that her presence must be a restraint upon the family party, the
moment the evening meal was concluded Flora bade them good night, and
retired to her _state_ cabin, worn out with the fatigue of the day. The
rain was still falling heavily, and she was forced to leave her door
partly unclosed to obtain a little air, for the heat was oppressive in
the close confined berth. For a long time she lay awake, now thinking
sad thoughts and shedding sadder tears, now listening to the hum of
voices in the outer-cabin, broken occasionally by songs and merry bursts
of laughter.
The captain's wife and her sisters, she found, were on their way to
Anster fair, which was to be held on the morrow, at which place they
were to be put on shore. And she remembered the old song of Maggie
Lauder, and her encounter with the piper on her way to that celebrated
fair: and was not a little amused to hear old Boreas, as if he had read
her thoughts, roar out the national ditty in a hoarse deep voice, as
rough and unmusical as a nor-wester piping among the shrouds.
As she reclined on her pillow, she could just see through a small
aperture in the red curtains which concealed her person from observation
the party gathered around the cabin-table. The captain's wife was seated
on his knee, and Jean's pale cheek rested on her bridegroom's manly
breast. Old Boreas was in his glory, for the brandy bottle was before
him, and he was insisting upon the ladies taking a glass of punch, and
drinking success to the voyage. This they all did with a very _good
grace_; even the pensive Jean sipping occasionally from her husband's
tumbler.
The captain's wife began teasing him for a fairing, which he very
bluntly refused to bestow. She called in the aid of Miss Nancy and
Betsy, and they charged down upon him with such a din of voices, that
the jolly tar emptied the contents of his leathern purse into Meg's lap,
who clutched the silver and kissed him, and clapped his broad back, and
laughed like a child.
By-and-by he was forced to leave her to go upon deck. She then rose and
went to her brother, and laying her hand upon his shoulder, addressed
him in a manner so serious, so different from her former deportment,
that Flora could scarcely believe it was the same person that now spoke.
"Wullie, ye maun promise me to keep a gude look out on Jock during the
voyage. He's jest killin' o' himsel wi' drink. Canna ye persuade him to
gie it up ava?"
The mate shook his head. "Ye ken the man, Maggie. He wull gang his ain
gate."
Maggie sighed heavily. "It's a puir look-out for his wife an' the twa
weans. He'll no leave it aff for our sakes; but you maun put in a word
o' advice now and then."
"It's of na use, Maggie. He's as obstinate as a brute beast. If he wull
na do it for your sake and the bairns--he'll no be convinced by word o'
mine. I'm thinkin', that opposition on that heid wud do mair harm than
gude."
"An' then, they women folk--Wullie. He's na to be trusted. Wi' him--out
o' sight is out o' mind. He never thinks o' his wife at hame the moment
he puts out to sea."
"Dinna be sae jealous, woman. Ha' ye na faith?" said Collins, pressing
Jean closer to his heart "Do ye think that sailors ar' waur than ither
men?"
"Ye are a' alike," sighed Meg, "though doubtless Jean thinks ye wull
ever be true to her, an' keep your eyes shut when you pass a pretty lass
for her sake. I ken you better."
"I were nae worthy to be your brither's wife, Maggie, an' I doubted his
honesty," said Jean indignantly, as she lifted her long, fair curls from
her husband's breast, and regarded him with a glance of proud devotion.
"If ye had mair faith in Jock, he wu'd be a better man."
"It's early days wi' ye yet, Jean;--wait a wee while afore ye find faut
wi' yer elders. Wullie weel kens, that I'm na mistrustfu' wi'out cause."
Flora did not hear the mate's reply: sleep weighed heavily upon her
eyelids, and she dropped off into profound repose.