Come o'er the sea,
Maiden, with me,
Mine through sunshine, storm and snows;
Seasons may roll,
But the true soul
Burns the same where'er it goes.
Let fate frown on, so we love and part not,
'Tis life where thou art, 'tis death where thou'rt not.
MOORE.
The voyage was at last accomplished without adventure or interest, the
Windsor Castle not having fallen in with more than two or three vessels
during her passage. Happy were the military officers to hear the order
given for the anchor to be let go upon their arrival in Madras Roads;
more happy were they to find themselves again on shore; and most happy
were Captain Oughton and his officers to witness the debarkation of the
troops, who had so long crowded their decks and impeded their motions.
Parting was indeed sweet sorrow, as it always will be when there is
short allowance of room and still shorter allowance of water.
Newton Forster was in a state of anxiety during the quarter of an hour
in which he was obliged to attend to his duty, furling the sails and
squaring the yards; and the time appeared most insupportably long, until
he could venture aft to make some inquiries from the dubashes, who were
crowding alongside, as to the fate of Isabel Revel. Time and absence
had but matured his passion, and it was seldom that Isabel was away from
his thoughts. He had a faint idea formed by hope that she was partial
to him; but this was almost smothered by the fears which opposed it,
when he reflected upon what might be produced by absence, importunity,
and her independent spirit, which might, if not well treated by her
relation, reconcile her to a marriage, which, although not in every way
eligible, secured her a prospect of contentment and of peace.
At last the yards were squared to the satisfaction of the boatswain, the
ropes were hauled taut, and coiled down, and the men sent below to their
dinners. Newton walked aft, and the first person he met was the dubash
who had attended the Bombay Castle. The cheeks of Newton flushed, and
his heart throbbed quick, and his lips quivered, as he asked
intelligence of the colonel and his family.
"Colonel Saib quite well, sir. Two ladies marry officer."
"Which two?" demanded Newton, eagerly.
"Not know how call Bibi Saib's names. But one not marry--she very
handsome--more handsome than all."
The heart of Newton bounded at this intelligence, as he knew that it
must be Isabel who was still a spinster. This was shortly after
corroborated by an English gentleman who came on board. Their stay at
Madras was intended to be short, and Newton resolved to ask immediate
leave on shore. Apologising to Captain Oughton for making such an
unusual request, which he was induced to do from intelligence he had
just received relative to his friends, he expressed his anxious wish.
Captain Oughton, who had reason to be highly satisfied with Newton, gave
his consent in the kindest manner; "and, Forster, if you wish to remain,
you have my permission. We will manage without you: only recollect, we
sail on Thursday night." Newton was soon ready, and quitted the ship
with Major Clavering; to whose credit it ought here to be observed, that
a _daily_ note was despatched to Captain Oughton, requesting the
pleasure of his company at the mess, until he was satisfied that, in
this instance, the general invitation was sincere.
As soon as he was clear of the surf, and out of the masulah boat, Newton
hired a conveyance, and drove out to the bungalo of the old colonel. He
trembled as he announced his name to the butler, who ushered him half
way to the receiving room; and, like most of the natives, finding some
difficulty in pronouncing English, contented himself with calling out
"burrah saib," and then walked off. Newton found himself in the
presence of the old veteran and Isabel. The latter had been reading a
new publication, which she laid down at the voice of the butler
announcing a visitor. But "burrah saib" may be any body; it implies a
gentleman. What then was the surprise of Isabel, who had no intimation
of his arrival, when Newton Forster made his appearance? Her
exclamation of delight, as she ran to him and extended her hand, made
Newton Forster but too happy; and, as for a few seconds he held the hand
not withdrawn, and looked in her beaming eyes, he quite forgot the
presence of the colonel. A glance from the eye of Isabel in the
direction where the old gentleman was seated, brought Newton to his
recollection. He walked up to the colonel, who shook hands, and
declared that he was most glad to see him.
"You take up your quarters here, of course, Mr Forster?"
"I shall have great pleasure in availing myself of your kind offer for a
day or two," replied Newton. "I trust that you have been in good health
since we parted."
"Not very; that is, latterly. I am thinking of a change of climate. I
intend to go home in October. I suppose you have been informed that the
two young women have married?"
"I was told so by some one who came on board."
"Yes. Isabel, my dear, order a chamber for Mr Forster." Isabel left
the room. "Yes, both married--thought of nothing else--regularly came
out on spec. In less than a month they knew the exact rank of every
gentleman in the presidency; ascertained their prospects, and the value
of their appointments; turned the rupees into pounds sterling; broke off
a conversation with an ensign at the sight of a lieutenant; cut the
lieutenant for a captain; were all smiles for a major; and actually made
love themselves to any body who was above that rank, and a bachelor.
They made their decision at last; indeed pretty quick. They were only
four months on my hands. Both up the country now."
"I trust they have married well, sir?"
"That depends upon circumstances. They have married young men not used
to the climate. May be widows in half a year. If their husbands
weather it, of course they will come in for their share of the good
things; but I'll warrant they will never be able to leave the country."
"Not leave the country, sir! May I ask why?"
"Because they have married foolish, extravagant wives, who will run them
in debt; and when once in debt, it is no easy matter in this country to
get out of it. They must insure their lives for the money which they
borrow; and as the house of agency will be gainers by their demise, of
course they will not be permitted to leave the country and their chance
of the _cholera morbus_. Don't you think that my niece looks remarkably
well?"
"I do; the climate does not appear to have affected her."
"Rather improved her," replied the colonel; "she is not so thin as when
she came on shore. God bless her! I'm sure, Mr Forster, I am under
great obligations to you for having persuaded me to go for the dear girl
when she arrived. She has been a treasure to me! If she has had one,
she has had twenty offers since you left; many unexceptionable; but she
has refused them all. In some instances I have persuaded her--I thought
it was my duty. But no; she has but one answer, and that is a decided
one. She will not leave me. She has watched and attended me in my
sickness as my own daughter. I say again, God bless her!"
It was with delight that Newton heard these encomiums upon Isabel, and,
her resolution not to marry. Whether it was wholly on account of not
wishing to leave the colonel or not, still every delay gave him more
chance of ultimate success. Isabel, who had stayed away that the
colonel might have time to make any communications to Newton, now
returned, and the conversation became general. Newton entered into a
narrative of what had occurred during his passage home, and amused them
with his anecdotes and conversation.
In about an hour the colonel rose from his chair that he might prepare
for dinner; and then it was that Newton perceived the great change which
had taken place. He was no longer upright but bowed down; his step was
no longer firm, it was almost tottering; and, as he left the room,
Newton's eyes met those of Isabel.
"You think him ill?" said Isabel, inquiringly.
"Yes, I do, Miss Revel. He is very much changed; his stamina appears to
have been exhausted by the climate. I trust he will go home, as he
proposes."
"He has been ill--very ill indeed. He talks constantly of going home;
he has done so for months; but when the time comes he puts it off. I
wish you would persuade him."
"I will do all I can; but if you cannot prevail, I'm afraid that my
persuasion will be of little use."
"Indeed, I think otherwise; you have power over him, Mr Forster. I
have not forgot how kindly you exercised it in my behalf. We--that is,"
continued Isabel, colouring up, "the colonel has often talked of you
since you quitted us."
"I feel highly flattered by his remembrance," replied Newton; "but you
are in mourning, Miss Revel. If not a liberty from one who feels an
interest in all concerning you, may I inquire for whom?"
"It is for my father," replied Isabel, with emotion, sitting down and
passing her hand across her eyes.
"I never heard of his death, and must apologise for having been so
indiscreet as to renew your sorrow. How long is it since? and what was
his complaint?"
"He had no complaint--would to God that he had had! He was shot in a
duel," replied Isabel, as the tears coursed down her cheeks. "Oh! Mr
Forster, I trust I am resigned to the dispensations of Providence, but--
that he should be summoned away at the moment when he was seeking the
life of his fellow-creature, with all the worst passions in excitement--
unprepared--for he was killed on the spot. These reflections will make
his death a source of bitter regret, which can terminate but with
existence."
"Your mother is still alive?" inquired Newton, to change the painful
subject.
"Yes, but very ill; the last accounts were very distressing; they say
that her complaint is incurable."
Newton regretted having brought up so painful a subject. A few words of
condolence and sympathy were offered, and they separated to prepare for
dinner.
Newton remained four days under the roof of the colonel, during which
time he was constantly in the society of Isabel; and when the period of
his departure arrived, he had just grounds to imagine that were all
obstacles in other points removed, Isabel Revel would not, on her part,
have raised any against the accomplishment of his wishes; but their
mutual dependent situations chased away all ideas of the kind for the
present, and although they parted with unconcealed emotion, not a word
which could be construed into a declaration of attachment was permitted
to escape his lips.
The Windsor Castle sailed for Calcutta, and in a few days anchored at
Kedgeree to wait for a pilot to come down the river. During their short
stay at this anchorage, Mr Williams, the first-mate, who was an old
Indian voyager, went on shore every evening to follow up his darling
amusement of shooting jackals, a description of game by no means scarce
in that quarter of the world. Often remonstrated with for his
imprudence in exposing himself to the heavy night-dew he would listen to
no advice. "It was very true," he acknowledged, "that his brother had
died of a jungle fever in pursuing the same amusement, and what was
more, the fowling-piece in his hand belonged to his brother, who had
bequeathed it to him; but as he had never heard of two brothers dying
from a jungle fever taken by shooting jackals, he considered that the
odds were strongly in his favour." This argument, however specious, did
not prove good. The third morning he returned on board, complaining of
a head-ache and shivering. He was bled and put into his bed, which he
never left again.
Before the Windsor Castle was ready to sail, the remains of Mr Williams
were consigned to the burying-ground at Diamond Harbour, and Newton
Forster was promoted to the rank of first-mate of the Windsor Castle.
This, as will hereafter be proved, was a most fortunate occurrence to
Newton Forster. The Windsor Castle sailed with leave to call at Madras
for letters or passengers, and in a few days was again at anchor in the
roadstead. The first intelligence which they received upon their
arrival was, that the cholera morbus had been very fatal, and that among
others, the old colonel had fallen a victim to the disease. Newton
again obtained permission to go on shore to Isabel. He found her in
distress at the house of a Mrs Enderby, a lady who had lost her husband
by the same ravaging epidemic, and who had long been the intimate friend
of the colonel and of Isabel. Mrs Enderby was about to return to
England by the first vessel, and had advised Isabel to take so
favourable an opportunity of a chaperone. Isabel, who had many reasons
for wishing to leave the country, particularly the declining state of
her mother's health, had consented; and it was with great pleasure that
she received from Newton the information of the best cabins of the
Windsor Castle not having been hitherto engaged.
The colonel's will had been opened. He had bequeathed his property, the
whole of which, with the exception of his establishment in India, was
invested in the English funds, to his grand-niece Isabel Revel. It
amounted to nearly seventy thousand pounds. It would be difficult to
say whether Newton Forster felt glad or sorry at this intelligence. For
Isabel's sake, he undoubtedly was glad, but he could not but feel that
it increased the distance between them, and on that account, and on that
alone, his reflections were painful. "Had it," thought he, "been five
thousand, or even ten thousand pounds, it would have been different. In
the course of a few years I might have been able to produce an
equivalent to it, and--but this fortune has raised her above my hopes;
even if she had a prepossession in my favour, it would be dishonest to
take advantage of it."
Isabel Revel had very different feelings on the subject;--she was her
own mistress, and her manner to Newton was more cordial, more
confidential than before. She had not forgotten that Newton had shown
the same regard and partiality for her when she was going out to India;
and afterwards, when in distress, he had been her friend and admirer
when in adversity. She knew his feelings towards her, and she had
appreciated his delicacy and forbearance. Lately she had seriously
analysed her own, and her analysis was wound up by a mental
acknowledgment, that her wealth would be valueless, if she could not
share it with Newton Forster.
At the request of Mrs Enderby, the poop cabins were engaged for Isabel
and herself. Their time for preparation was short; but one day more
having been obtained from Captain Oughton, through the influence of
Newton, Mrs Enderby and Isabel embarked, and the Windsor Castle spread
her canvas, sailing away from pestilence and death.