I BECOME A VICTIM OF DOMESTIC INFELICITY
Next morning the wise-ones, according to promise, informed me, by means
of their power of second sight, that my ship was in the place where I
had left her, which seemed probable, as it would no doubt be on land
that Hartog and my friends would be looking for me.
I passed my word to the wise-ones that Hartog's vessel would not visit
the Engano Islands, since strangers were not welcome; and, having bid
good-bye to the Amazons, I once more embarked with Sylvia in her canoe,
and was paddled round the east end of the Great Barren Island, where,
in the distance, was the "Golden Seahorse" still at anchor in the bay
where I had last seen her.
When I came aboard Hartog was overjoyed at my return. "I shall have to
keep thee tied up, Peter," he said to me, in jest at my frequent
mishaps. "You are for ever either falling overboard or running away."
But when I told him of my adventure on Amazon Island he listened with
great interest, expressing regret that I should have pledged my word
against the ship's calling there. His disappointment, however, was
modified when I told him that nothing of any commercial value was to be
found upon either of the Engano Islands; nothing, in fact, being worthy
of notice but the wonderful contentment of the inhabitants, a commodity
which could not be carried away.
"Let us up stick and home, then," answered Hartog merrily. So, having
presented Sylvia and her accompanying Amazons with gifts, in return for
which they showed us where excellent water was to be obtained with
which we might replenish our tanks, we bade farewell to the Great
Barren Island, and shaped a course for Holland.
On our arrival at Amsterdam Hartog arranged for the disposal and
division of our treasure. He and I, as joint promoters of the
expedition, each took to the value of twenty thousand English pounds,
giving the remainder to be divided among our officers and crew, who had
never in their lives before looked to possess so much money. The ship
was put out of commission, though, for the present, we determined not
to sell her. Hartog promised himself a spell ashore, and I also looked
forward to a life of ease and recreation. I was now a rich man, with
more wealth to my credit than would satisfy my simple needs for the
remainder of my life. Why then, I asked myself, should I seek further
peril and adventure in unknown lands to gain money of which I already
possessed more than I knew what to do with?
I did not return to my estate, which had become distasteful to me,
recalling, as it did, the brief span of nuptial happiness which I had
enjoyed with Anna, and when, later, my father-in-law, the Count of
Holstein, offered to buy it from me, I was glad to sell it to him. With
a portion of my capital I now secured a full share in the business of
De Decker, my old master, and, having purchased a fine house at
Amsterdam, I resolved to settle down to the lucrative business of a
merchant.
Before taking possession of my new home I paid a visit to my family at
Urk, where I found that my father had retired from the active
management of his fishing business, which was now carried on by my
eldest brother, who was married, and blessed with three sturdy boys. My
two younger brothers were also married, and both had begun to rear
families.
"Only you, Peter," said my mother, "my favourite son, the flower of the
flock, are alone and childless."
I had not, since Anna's death, given a thought to marrying again, but
my mother's words appealed to me with some force when I reflected that
I owed it to my country not to lead a life of selfish celibacy. I would
never love with the strength of my first love which I had given to
Anna; but there seemed to be no reason why I should not become the head
of a house, and the father of a family, so that I might live again in
my children.
Now, it so fell out that Pauline Rutter, a niece of De Decker, came at
this time to stay with her uncle at Amsterdam, and as I was a frequent
visitor at De Decker's house, I often met her. Pauline was proud, dark,
and self-willed--the very opposite of what Anna Holstein had been when
I married her, and for this reason, perhaps, I liked her the more,
since it put an end to all comparison between her and Anna, to whom I
had given my first love.
Pauline was flattered by the attention I paid her, and when at length I
asked her to become my wife she made no secret of her satisfaction at
the prospect of becoming Madam Van Bu.
"I have always thought, sir," she said, "that you would marry again. It
is a duty which you owe to your wealth and position. That your choice
should have fallen upon me is an honour of which I am very sensible."
It will thus be seen that in the alliance which Pauline and I proposed
there was to be no love-making. The bargain was one that might have
been made in the course of De Decker's business. I was to give Pauline
my wealth and name, in return for which she promised to become my wife,
and to undertake the management of my household. It was a shameful
bargain, and I was well served for my part in it.
We had not been married a month before each of us began to observe in
the other an incompatibility of temper which made any kind of agreement
between us, even on the most trivial matters, impossible. Pauline
declared that I brought the manners of the forecastle into her
drawing-room, while the social inanities to which she devoted most of
her time angered me into upbraiding her with her frivolity and lack of
common sense. These mutual recriminations soon led us into a condition
of life which destroyed all prospect of peace and contentment in our
home. Neither would give way one jot. The more Pauline stormed at me
for my boorishness and want of consideration for her the more obstinate
did I become in ascribing to her frivolous nature the true cause of our
unhappiness. I admired Pauline, and I looked to her to become the
mother of my children; but we could neither of us endure the other's
presence for any length of time without a squabble, so that our
domestic infelicity became a jest and a byword even among our servants.
In these circumstances I felt it would be better that we should part.
It is said that absence makes the heart grow fonder, and I was
convinced that I would regard Pauline with more kindly feelings if seas
between us rolled than were possible if we remained together in the
same house, and I have no doubt that Pauline thoroughly reciprocated my
sentiments.
In this mood I sought my old comrade Dirk Hartog. I found him, as I
expected, at a tavern which he frequented. He was seated at a table
with Bantum and Janstins, poring over a chart in which all three
appeared to be deeply interested.