Being the last Chapter, the Reader may pretty well guess the
Contents of it.
"Tom, do you know that I very often find myself looking about me, and
asking myself if all that has happened is true or a dream," said Bramble
to me, as we sat inside of the coach to Dover, for there were no other
inside passengers but ourselves. "I can't help thinking that great good
fortune is as astounding as great calamity. Who would have thought, when
I would, in spite of all Bessy's remonstrances, go round in that ship
with you, that in the first place we should have been taken possession
of by a privateer in the very narrows (he was a bold cruiser, that
Frenchman)? After we were captured I said to myself, Bessy must have had
a forewarning of what was to happen, or she never would have been, as I
thought, so perverse. And since it has turned out so fortunately, I
can't help saying how fortunate it was that we did not allow her to
persuade us; for had we not both gone, nothing could have been done.
Well, I think we may promise Bessy this time when we meet her, that we
will not trust ourselves to salt water again in a hurry. What do you
think, Tom?"
"No; I think the best thing I can do is to marry, and live on shore,"
replied I.
"Yes, Tom, that's it. Give me your hand, you don't know how happy you
make me; we'll all live together. But where shall we live? for the poor
little cottage that I thought quite big enough for us a month ago will
not do now."
"We have plenty of time to talk that over, father. I love the cottage
for many reasons; although, as you say, it is not large enough now for
our means or future way of living."
"And I love it too, boy; I love to look out of the door and see the spot
where my Bessy rescued me from death. God bless her! she is a noble
girl, Tom, though I say it who--but I'm not her father, after all, and
if I were, I would still say it."
"It is evident, by her letter to you, that she has been most anxious
about us. What will she say when she hears we have both been wounded?"
"Ay! it wouldn't have done to have told her that, or she would have set
off for Chatham, as sure as we are sitting here."
Here a pause ensued for some time, and we were busied with our own
thoughts. The silence was at last broken by me.
"Father," said I, "I should like to ask my father and Peter Anderson to
come down to us; they can easily get leave."
"Is it to be present at your wedding, Tom?"
"Exactly--if Bessy will consent."
"Well, I have no doubt of that, Tom; but she will now require a little
courting, you know why."
"Why, because all women like it, I suppose."
"No, Tom; it is because she was in love before you were, d'ye
understand?--and now that things are all smooth, and you follow her,
why, it's natural, I suppose, that she should shy off a little in her
turn. You mustn't mind that, Tom; it's a sort of soothing to the
mortification of having at one time found herself, as it were,
rejected."
"Well, I shan't mind that; it will only serve me right for being such a
fool as not to have perceived her value before. But how do you
understand women so well, father?"
"Because, Tom, I've been looking on and not performing all my life:
except in one instance in a long life, I've only been a bystander in the
way of courtship and matrimony. Here we are at last, and now for a
chaise to Deal. Thank God, we can afford to shorten the time, for
Bessy's sake, poor thing!"
We arrived at the cottage. The sound of the wheels had called out not
only Bessy and Mrs. Maddox, but all the neighbors; for they had heard of
our good fortune. Bessy, as soon as she had satisfied herself that it
was Bramble and me, went into the cottage again. Once more we entered
the humble roof. Bessy flew into her father's arms, and hung weeping on
his shoulder.
"Haven't you a kind word to say for Tom?" said Bramble kissing her as he
released himself.
"Does he deserve it, to leave me as he did, laughing at my distress?
_He_ had no right to treat me so."
"Indeed, Bessy, you do me injustice. I said at the time that I thought
there was no risk, and I certainly did think there was none. Who would
have expected a privateer half-way up the Thames, any more than a vessel
with twenty men on board could be re-captured by two men?"
"Well, Bessy, you ought to make friends with him, for, without his arm,
your father would not have been back here quite so soon. He beat down
the Frenchmen, one after another, in good style, when they attempted to
recover the vessel--that he did, I can tell you, wounded as he was."
"Wounded?" cried Bessy, starting, her eyes running over me to find out
where.
"Yes, with a bullet in his leg; I didn't like to say a word about it in
the letter. But I suppose if he had been killed you would not have
cared?"
"Oh, father!" cried Bessy, as she turned toward me, and I received her
in my arms.
Bessy soon recovered her smiles, and thankful for our preservation and
good fortune, and satisfied with our mutual affection, we passed a most
happy evening. Somehow or another Bramble, having sent Mrs. Maddox on a
message, found out that it was very sultry indoors, and that he would
take his pipe on the beach. He left me alone with Bessy; and now, for
the first time, I plainly told her the state of my affections, and asked
her to consent to be my wife. I did not plead in vain, as the reader may
suppose from what he has already been made acquainted with.
After Bessy had retired, and I was sitting with Bramble, who had his
glass of grog and pipe as usual, I made him acquainted with my success.
"All right, Tom," said he, "I'm thankful--and God bless you both."
And had I not reason also to be thankful? When I had retired to my room
that night, I thought over the various passages in my life. What might I
have been if Providence had not watched over me? When neglected in my
youth, in a situation which exposed me to every temptation, had not old
Anderson been sent as a guardian to keep me in the right path, to
instruct me, and to give me that education without which my future
success might have turned out a disadvantage instead of a source of
gratitude? In Bramble, again, I had met with a father, to supply the
place of one who was not in a situation to do his duty to me or forward
me in life. In old Nanny I had met with a kind friend, one who, at the
same time that she would lead me right, was a warning to me from her
sufferings. To Mrs. St. Felix I was equally indebted, and had I not been
permitted to pay the debt of gratitude to both of them? Even my mother's
harshness, which appeared at first to my short-sightedness to have been
so in-defensible, was of great advantage to me, as it had stimulated me
to exertion and industry, and pointed out to me the value of
independence. Was I not also most fortunate in having escaped from the
entanglement of Janet, who, had I married her, would, in all
probability, have proved a useless if not a faithless helpmate; and
still more so, in finding that there was, as it were, especially
reserved for me the affection of such a noble, right-minded creature as
Bessy? My life, commenced in rags and poverty, had, by industry and
exertion, and the kindness of others, step by step progressed to
competence and every prospect of mundane happiness. Had I not,
therefore, reason to be grateful, and to feel that there had been a
little cherub who had watched over the life of Poor Jack? On my bended
knees I acknowledged it fervently and gratefully, and prayed that,
should it please Heaven that I should in after life meet any reverse, I
might bear it without repining, and say, with all humility, "Thy will
and not mine, O Lord, be done!"
How bright was the next morning, and how cheerful did the dancing waves
appear to me!--and Bessy's eyes were radiant as the day, and her smiles
followed in rapid succession; and Bramble looked so many years
younger--he was almost too happy to smoke--it was really the sunshine of
the heart which illumined our cottage. And thus did the few days pass,
until Anderson and my father made their appearance. They were both
surprised at Bessy's beauty, and told me so. They had heard that she was
handsome, but they were not prepared for her uncommon style; for now
that her countenance was lighted up with joy, she was indeed lovely.
"Well, Tom," observed my father, "there's only one thing which surprises
me."
"What is that?"
"Why, how, with such a fine craft in view, you could ever have sailed in
the wake of such a little privateer as--but I must not mention
her--never mind, don't answer me that--but another question--when are
you going to be spliced?"
"Very soon, I hope; but I really don't exactly know. All I can say is
the sooner the better."
"And so say I. Shall I bring up the subject on the plea of my leave
being only for ten days?"
"Yes, father, I wish you would, as it is really a good reason to allege
for its taking place immediately."
"Tom, my dear boy," said old Anderson, "from what I can perceive, you
have great reason to be thankful in having obtained this young woman for
your future partner in life. I admire her exceedingly, and I trust in
Heaven that you will be happy."
"I ought to be," replied I, "and grateful also particularly to you, to
whom, under Providence, I am so much indebted."
"If the seed is sown upon good ground, it will always yield a good
harvest, Tom. You are a proof of it, so thank Heaven, and not me. I wish
to tell you what your father has mentioned to me. The fact is, Tom, he
is in what may be called a false position at Greenwich. He is a
pensioner, and has now sufficient not to require the charity, and he
thinks that he ought not to avail himself of it, now that you have made
him independent; but if he leaves the hospital and remains at Greenwich,
he and your mother would not agree well together. They are very good
friends at a certain distance, but I do not think, with her high
notions, that they could ever live together in the same house. He says
that he should like to live either with you or near you; and I think
myself, now that he is become so very steady a character, it does
require your consideration whether you ought not to permit him. He will
be a very good companion for Bramble, and they will get on well
together. I do not mean to say that it might not be more agreeable if he
were to remain at Greenwich; but he is your father, Tom, and you should
make some sacrifice for a parent."
"As far as I am concerned, Anderson, I most gladly consent. Bramble is
to live with us--that is arranged, and if no objections are raised by
others you may be sure of my acceding, and, indeed, if objections should
be raised, of persuading all I can."
"You can do no more, Tom," replied Anderson; "nor can more be expected."
This point was very satisfactorily arranged. Bramble and Bessy both gave
their cheerful consent, and it was settled that as soon as we had a
house to receive him, my father should quit Greenwich and live with us.
The arguments of my father, added to the persuasions of Bramble and me,
had their due weight, and on the 13th of September, 1807, Bessy and I
exchanged our vows, and I embraced her as my own.