CHAPTER XVI.

VANDERDECKEN SHOWS ME HIS PRESENT FOR LITTLE MARGARETHA.

At this moment Prins stepped on to the poop, and informed the captain

that breakfast was ready.

"Sir," said Vanderdecken to me, with a courtesy that I guessed to be as

capricious as his passion, "you will have feared I meant to starve you."

"No, mynheer," I replied.

"You will find our fare poor," he continued. "Be pleased to follow me."

"Sir," said I, "forgive me if I detain you for an instant. I am too

sensible of your kindness not to desire that you will enable me to

merit it by serving you in the navigation of this ship in any capacity

you choose to name, until we meet with a vessel that shall rid you of

my presence."

"You appear to have but a poor opinion of us Dutch," said he, still

speaking with courtesy; "be pleased to know that a Hollander is never

happier than in relieving distress. But come, sir, the shelter of the

cabin will be grateful to you after this stormy deck."

I said no more, and gathering the flapping skirts of the coat on me to

my side, that the gale might not sweep me off my legs, I followed him

into the cabin under the poop, marvelling, as I went, at the miracle

wrought on behalf of this ship, that her hold should still yield

provisions and water for her crew after a century-and-a-half of use.

Now you will have deemed by this time that I had supped full enough of

surprises. But conceive of my astonishment on entering the cabin, that

was less darksome than I should have conceived it, on seeing a girl of

from eighteen to twenty years of age, seated at the table on the right

hand of the captain's chair!

I came to a stand, struck motionless with astonishment; whilst she,

uttering an exclamation of surprise, hastily rose and stood staring at

me, leaning with her right hand on the table to steady herself. It was

as certain that she had been as ignorant of my presence on board as I,

to this instant, of her existence. The thought that instantly flashed

upon me was that she was Vanderdecken's daughter, that the Curse that

had fallen on the ship included her, as it had all others of the

vessel's miserable company of men, and that in consonance with Captain

Skevington's mad but astonishing theory, touching the people of this

Death Ship, she discovered the appearance she would have presented at

the hour of her death, though vitalised in that aspect by the sentence

that kept the Braave afloat and her people quick and sentient. I was

the more willing to suppose this by her apparel, which was of the kind

I had seen in old Dutch paintings at Rotterdam, for it consisted of a

black velvet jacket, very beautifully fitting her figure, trimmed with

fur and enriched with many small golden buttons; a green silk gown,

plain and very full, as though made for a bigger woman. There was a

rope of pearls round her neck, and I spied a diamond of great splendour

blazing on the forefinger of the hand on which she leaned. She wore

small red shoes and her hair was undressed.

Observation and the power of comprehending what one sees are rapid,

otherwise it would have been impossible for me to have mastered the

details I have set before you in the short time that intervened between

my entering the cabin and seating myself at the table. Yet, short as

that time was, it enabled me to witness in this girl such sweetness,

fairness and loveliness of face as I vow no man could conceive the

truth of who had not beheld it with his own eyes. 'Tis an old poet who

writes of "the still harmony, whose diapason lies within a brow," and

of the "sweet silent rhetorick of persuading eyes," and another more

delicately choice yet in fancy, of

"The daintie touch,

The tender flesh, the colour bright, and such

As Parians see in marble, skin more fair,

More glorious head and far more glorious hair;

Eyes full of grace and quickness, purer roses----"

but of this beauty, shining sun-like in that labouring ancient cabin,

gazing at me half-wistful, half-amazed, with an inclined posture of her

form as though she would on a sudden race to greet me, what could the

noblest poet of them all sing, only to tell of the soft violet of her

eyes, of her hair of dusky gold, self-luminous as though the gilding

light of a ruddy beam of sunset lingered amid the thick abundant

tresses heedlessly knotted with a riband a little lower than the line

of the ears, thence falling in a bright loose shower down her back,

whilst over her forehead, white as though wrought out of the sea foam,

the gilded curls were gathered in a shadow only a little darker than

amber.

All this I saw and more yet, for whilst I stood looking at her the mate

of the ship, Van Vogelaar, arrived, and both he and the captain, and

the man Prins, turning their faces towards me, the warmth, the life of

her skin, the living reality of her surprise, the redness of her lips,

the diamond glance of her eyes, were so defined by the paleness, the

deathly hue, of the flesh of the men's skin, that the fear that she was

of this doomed company fell from me, and I knew that I was face to face

with one that was mortal like myself.

The captain pointed to the bench on his left hand. I approached the

table, giving the girl a low bow before sitting. She curtsied and

resumed her seat, but all the while looking at me with an astonishment

that greatly heightened her beauty; nor could I fail to see by the

slight, but visible changes in the expression of her mouth, that my

presence was putting a pleasure in her that grew as perception of my

actuality sharpened in her mind.

A coarse, but clean cloth, that was a kind of duck or drill, covered

the table, and upon it were a couple of dishes of cold meat, a dish

of dried fish, another of dried plantains, a jar of marmalade, and a

plate of a singular sort of cakes--yellow and heavy--resembling the

crumb of newly-baked bread. These things were kept in their places by a

rude framework of wood set upon the table and lashed to it underneath.

Before each person there stood a silver cup--one of one design and

size, another of another; also an earthen plate, of a grey colour,

of Chinese baking, and of the kind exported years since in great

quantities from Batavia; and a knife and fork of a pattern I had never

before seen. On our seating ourselves, Prins went round the table with

two jars--one holding a spirit, which I afterwards found was a kind of

gin, and the other cold water, with which he manufactured a bumper for

us three men, but the girl drank the water plain.

Not a word was said whilst Prins was at this work. As he was filling

my cup, the clock over the door struck eight, the skeleton appearing

and flourishing his lance as before, and scarce was this ended when the

parrot croaked out, "Wy zyn al Verdomd." I had forgotten this bird,

and the harsh utterance and dreadful words coming upon me unawares so

startled me that I half-sprang to my feet. The girl looked down on the

table with a sad face, whilst Vanderdecken said, "'Tis the clock that

excites that fowl; we shall have to hang her out of hearing of it."

He never offered to make me known to the fair creature opposite, but

that did not signify, for, after stealing several peeps at me, she

asked in Dutch, but with the artless manner of a child, and in a sweet

voice, if I was a Hollander.

I answered, "No, I am an Englishman, madam," feeling the blood warm in

my face through the mere speaking with so delicate a beauty.

"I, too, am English!" she cried, in our own tongue.

"Indeed!" I exclaimed, transported out of myself by hearing this, and

by perceiving how warm, real and living she was. "But, in the name of

Heaven, how is it that you are alone upon this strange ship, amid these

mysterious men?" for that question I could no more forbear asking right

out than I could conceal the admiration in my eyes, whilst I felt no

diffidence in talking, as I made no doubt the English language was

unintelligible to the others.

She swiftly glanced at me, but did not answer. I took this as a hint,

and was silent. And yet it did not seem that Vanderdecken or Van

Vogelaar heeded us. They appeared as men sunk in deep abstraction, even

whilst they ate and drank. Some meat was put before me; Prins offered

me a cake, and, being hard set, I fell to. I found the meat salt, but

sweet and tender enough, and turning to the mate asked him what it was.

"Antelope," he replied, "yonder," pointing to the other dish, "is

buffalo."

"Sir," exclaimed Vanderdecken, with a wonderful stateliness in his

manner, "be pleased to despise ceremony here. Such as our fare is, you

are welcome. Take as you may require, and Prins will fill your cup as

often as you need."

I bowed and thanked him.

"The wind blows hard, Imogene," said he, addressing the girl. "It

storms directly along the path we would take. It is miserable," he

continued, turning to me, "that a change of weather should come

upon us just about those parts where the breeze freshened into

this gale last night. But we'll force her to windward yet--hey,

Herman?--though--though----" he looked at the lady he had named Imogene

and halted abruptly in his speech, but I noticed he could not quickly

clear his face of the passionate mad look that darkened it, though it

did not qualify the paleness of the skin, but was like the shadow of a

heavy storm-cloud passing over the upward-gazing features of a dead man.

The countenances of the mate and Prins darkened to his savage mood.

May Heaven pardon me for the thought, but when I considered the bitter

vexation of a head wind, and how this vessel was being blown dead away

to leeward faster than any line-of-battle ship hove-to, I could not but

secretly feel a sailor's sympathy with these unhappy persons, though

that this would have been the case had Vanderdecken expressed with

his tongue the fearful thoughts which he looked with his eyes I do not

think possible, if I know myself at all.

There fell a silence among us, through which we could hear the dreary

howling of the wind, the falls of heavy masses of water upon the

decks, and the lamentable complaining of the whole fabric, though as

these noises were chiefly in the hold the notes rose somewhat dulled.

Presently, feeling it indecorous in me to sit silent, I asked the

captain what his cargo was.

He answered, "We have much wrought and raw silk, and cloves, musk,

nutmegs, mace and pepper, wood for dyeing, drugs, calicoes, lacker-ware

and such commodities, sir."

"And how many of a crew, sir?"

Van Vogelaar turned to look at me.

"Ask no questions," exclaimed the girl in English. "You will be

misunderstood."

"Our guns are few, but the Braave is a swift ship," said the mate,

with a very stern and sullen expression on his rugged face. "She has

outsailed one English frigate, and by this time our Admirals should

have left us little to fear from the fleets of your Cromwell."

"Pray," said the lady, addressing Vanderdecken, and glancing in like

a sunbeam upon this sudden darkness of temper, "tell me of this

gentleman--how it happens he is here; I find he is my countryman.

Converse with me about him."

If it were possible for human affection to touch into softness the

fierce majestic countenance of the noble looking being, whose mien as

he sate at the table might have been that of some dethroned emperor,

with the pride of Lucifer to sustain him, I might seem to have

witnessed the tenderness of it in his ashen, bearded face when he

turned the cold glitter of his eyes upon the girl.

"We spoke his ship late last night, when thou wast asleep, Imogene,

and Van Vogelaar went in our boat to buy tobacco, if they were willing

to sell, but on seeing the boat they fired upon her. A light air blew,

and the ship moved away. Our boat was returning, when she spied this

gentleman fast drowning. Van Vogelaar dragged him out of the water,

and--here he is!" saluting me with a grave inclination of the head.

"Had we changed places," said the stormy-minded, rugged mate, "what

would have been my fate?"

A colour flashed into Imogene's face, and she cried, "Oh, Herr Van

Vogelaar, your pardon, if you please. English seamen are as humane as

they are brave."

"Yes," said the mate, with a sneer that rendered his ugliness quite

horrible with the distortion of it, "because English sailors are brave

they fire upon an inoffensive boat, and because they are humane they

leave their comrade to perish!"

"Madam," said I, softly, "the character of this ship was known to us."

She slightly raised her eyes, and such a sadness came into them that

I feared to see her shed tears. Meanwhile, Vanderdecken had his gaze

fixed upon me. He seemed to be musing upon what the mate had said.

"It was your Commodore Young," said he, in his resonant voice, that,

to be sure, sounded grandly after the harsh pipes of the mate, "who

provoked us. Why should your nation exact the honour of the flag?

Has it bred greater seamen than Holland? There is my friend Willem

Schouten--many a pipe, when I was a young man, have I smoked with him

in his summer-house at Hoorn. Does even your Drake surpass Schouten?

No, no! It was not for England to be mistress of the seas!" he

exclaimed, with a solemn shake of the head, not wanting in a grave kind

of urbanity.

I caught a glance from the girl, but I needed no hint to keep my

tongue still. 'Twas maddening and terrifying enough to hear this man

speak of Schouten as a friend--Schouten, who greatly headed the grand

procession of mariners such as Dampier, Byron, Anson, and many others

who, since his day, have sailed round that Cape Horn--which the stout

Hollander was the first to pass and to name--into the great South Sea.

And yet, spite of the effect produced upon me by this man's speech and

references, I was sensible of a distinct pricking of my conscience by

my patriotism. To hear England sneered at by the natives of a country

which has been described by a poet that flourished in the days of

Blake and Tromp as the "off-scouring of the British sand," and as the

"undigested vomit of the sea," was by no means to my liking. But to

remonstrate would have been but a mere warring with the dead.

The captain appeared to delight to talk of the war between the Dutch

and the English. I remember that he praised our Commodore Bodley, and

said that if the States' ambassador, Adrian Paaw, had been a person of

understanding, the treaty might have stood. This I recollect, but very

little more, for, to be plain, it was not only a frightful thing to

listen to him, but my thoughts were thrown into the utmost confusion by

the loveliness of the lady who confronted me--by the assurance of the

sweet eyes, warm colour, and her maidenly youth, which lived in every

movement, word, smile, or sad look of hers, that she was no true member

of the unholy and fearful company she lived amongst; by my wondering

how she came to be in this Death Ship, and how it happened that she was

finely dressed; not to speak of other speculations, such as how the

food upon the table was provided, and by what means this ship, which I

knew had been struggling against the will of the Omnipotent for hard

upon one hundred and fifty years, should be supplied with a liberal

stock of the conveniences of life.

But we had now done eating. The mate rose and quitted the table, but

his place was shortly afterwards taken by another man whom I had not

before seen, the second mate as I afterwards discovered, named Antony

Arents. This person looked to be about fifty years of age. He wore

high boots and a cloak and a soft flapping hat, which he threw down

on entering. His left eye had a cast and the bridge of his nose was

broken, but his countenance was of the true Dutch character, and in

some points he was like the boatswain, Antony Jans, whom I had seen on

deck when waking into consciousness, only that he had less flesh to

his belly. But in him was the same ghastly hue of skin you saw in the

others; 'twas in his hands as in his face; had you come across him in

his sleep you would have said he had been dead some days. And, indeed,

never did I view a corpse made ready for casting overboard that had the

aspect of the dead so strong upon it as these men. He helped himself to

food, taking not the least notice of me.

Prins meanwhile had put a box of tobacco and some long clay pipes upon

the table, one of which Vanderdecken took and filled, asking me to

smoke. I thanked him, wondering what sort of tobacco time had converted

this weed into, took the tinder-box from the captain and lighted my

pipe. Well, if this was an ancient tobacco age had not spoilt its

qualities. It smoked very sweet and sound.

"We are on short allowance," said the captain. "Our stock has run low.

It will be a hardship if we should come to want tobacco."

I made no reply, being determined to learn all I could about this ship

and her people from Miss Imogene before offering suggestions, for

though there is no living man whose nose I would not offer to stroke

for calling me a coward, yet I am not ashamed to say this Captain

Vanderdecken terrified me and I feared his wrath.

The girl, with her elbows on the table and her fair chin resting on her

hands, which made an ivory cup for her face, watched me continuously

with eyes whose brightness the large and sparkling diamond on her

forefinger did not match by many degrees of glory.

"Are you long from England?" says she to me presently in Dutch, that

Vanderdecken might know what we talked about.

"We sailed in April last," I replied. "And you, madam?"

She either did not hear the question or would not answer.

"Are you married?" asked the captain of me, smoking very slowly to get

the true relish of the tobacco, whilst the second mate chewed his food

with vacant eyes, squinting straight ahead or meeting in a traverse on

his plate.

"No, sir," I replied.

"Are your parents living?" he said.

"My mother is alive," I answered.

"Ah!" said he, speaking as one in a reverie, "A sailor should not

marry. What is more uncertain than the sea? The mariner's wife can

never make sure of her husband's return. What will mine be thinking if

we continue to be blown back as we are now by these westerly gales?

It seems longer than months, yea, it appears to me to be years, since

I last beheld her and my daughters standing near the Schreyerstoren,

weeping and waving their farewells to me. My eldest girl, Geertruida,

will be grown sick at heart with her long yearning for the parcel

of silk I have for her. And Margaretha----" he sighed, softly. Then

turning to Imogene, he said, "My dear, show this gentleman the toy I am

taking home for my little Margaretha."

She rose with a look of pain in her face, and stepped to the cabin that

was next the captain's. I now understood why he had desired me to speak

in subdued tones last night, for that was the room in which she slept.

The ease with which she moved upon that heaving deck was wonderful, and

this verse of a ballad came into my head as I watched her go from the

table to her cabin--

"No form he saw of mortal mould,

It shone like ocean's snowy foam;

Her ringlets waved in living gold,

Her mirror crystal, pearl her comb."

Ay, the ocean might have owned her for a child, with such dainty,

elegant ease did she accommodate her form to the sweep and heave of

its billows, as denoted by the motions of the ship; as some lovely

gull with breast of snowy down and wings of ermine airily expresses

the swing and charge of the surge by its manner of falling in each

hollow and lifting above each head on outstretched pinion. Her costume

too, that was so strange a thing, giving to this interior so romantic

an appearance that, had the ship been still and you had looked in at

the cabin door, then, with this lady's beauty and dress, the majestic

figure of Vanderdecken smoking in his high-backed chair, the second

mate at his food, Prins standing like one that dreams, all the faces

but the girl's and mine ghastly, the strange beauty of the lamp that

swung over the table, the oval frames holding paintings so bleared

and dusky that it was difficult to make out the subjects, the dim and

wasted colour of the cabin walls, and the bald tawdriness of what had

been rich giltwork, the clock of ancient pattern, the parrot cage--I

say, had you been brought on a sudden to view this interior from the

door, you might have easily deemed it some large astonishing picture

painted to the very height of the greatest master's perfection.

In a moment or two Miss Imogene returned, and coming to the table

placed upon it a little figure about five inches tall. It was of some

metal and had been gaily coloured as I supposed from what was left of

the old tints. Its style was a red cloak falling down its back, a small

cap with a feather, shoes almost hidden with great rosettes, hose as

high as the thigh, and then a sort of blouse with a girdle. Both arms

hung before in a very easy and natural posture and the hands grasped a

flute.

Vanderdecken, putting down his pipe, took a key from under the cloak

of the figure and wound the automaton up as a clock, when it instantly

lifted the flute to its mouth, in the exact manner of life, and played

a tune. The sound was very pure though piercing, the melody simple and

flowing. In all, the figure played six tunes without any sound of the

clock-work within, and it was undoubtedly a very curious and costly toy.

The second mate stalked out in the middle of this performance, having

finished his meal, and showing no more sensibility to what was doing

than did the table the figure played on. The eyes of the man Prins had

a sickly, faraway look, to be imagined only, for no one could describe

it. Vanderdecken lighted his pipe when the automaton struck up, and

nodded gravely to the fluting with as much pleasure in his face as so

fierce and haughty a countenance could express. The girl stood leaning

upon the table, with a listlessness in her manner and constantly

regarding me.

Scarce had the sixth tune been played, when the parrot called out from

his cage, "Wy zyn al Verdomd!" clearly showing that she knew when the

entertainment was over. Her pronouncing these words in Dutch robbed

them somewhat, to my ear, of their tremendous import, but still it was

a terrible sentence for the creature to have lighted on, and I wondered

what her age was, for she could not have been newly-hatched when

Vanderdecken bought her, as--he had told me--she then spoke the same

words. However, the captain was full of his flute-player, and neither

he nor Imogene noticed the parrot.

"This should delight my little Margaretha," said he, lifting the figure

and examining it; "'tis as cunning a toy as ever I saw. I bought it

at Batavia, from an old friend of mine, Meeuves Meindertszoom Bakker,

who had purchased it of a sailor belonging to the company's ship,

Revolutie, for eight ducats. 'Twill rejoice my child; you shall present

it to her, Imogene. I would not sell it for five hundred dollars; 'tis

worthy to be John Muller's work."

He ceased speaking, lifting his hand; then exclaimed, "Hark! how the

wind continues to storm."

He gave the figure to the girl who returned it to her cabin.

In a few minutes he put down his pipe and bade Prins bring him his

skin or fur cap, and then rose, impressing me as keenly as though I

viewed him for the first time by the nobility of his stature, his great

beard flowing to the waist, the sharp supernatural fires in his eyes as

if the light there were living flames. In silence he quitted the cabin,

acting like a man influenced by spells, without the governance of the

logic of human behaviour.

The Death Ship: A Strange Story, Vol. 1 (of 3) · 第 16 / 20 章