FORCIBLE EJECTMENT.
Those things which have been settled for us by long generations of
ancestors, all of whom must have considered the subjects, one after the
other painfully, and brought good minds of ancient strength (less led
away than ours are) to bear upon what lay before them, also living in a
time when money went much further, and got a deal more change in
honesty, which was then more plentiful--to rush, I say, against the
bulwarks of our noble elders (who showed the warmth of their faith by
roasting all who disagreed with them), would be, ay and ever will be, a
proof of a rebellious, scurvy, and perpetually scabby nature. The above
fine reflection came home to me, just as my pipe grew sweet and rich,
after an excellent dinner, provided by that most thoughtful and bright
young lady, the Honourable Isabel Carey, upon a noble New Year's Day, in
the year of our Lord one thousand seven hundred and eighty-three. Her
ladyship now had begun to feel that interest in my intelligence and
unusual power of narrative, as well as that confidence in my honour and
extreme veracity, which, without the smallest effort or pretence on my
part, seem to spring by some law of nature in every candid mind I meet.
Combining this lady's testimonials, as presented weekly, with some
honourable trifles picked up here and there along shore, in spite of all
discouragement, perhaps I congratulated myself on having turned the
corner of another year not badly. I counted my money, to the tune of
five-and-twenty level pounds; an amount of cash beyond all experience!
Yet, instead of being dazzled, I began to see no reason for not having
fifty. Not that I ever thought of money; but for the sake of the
children. The tears came into my eyes, to think of these poor little
creatures; Bardie with all her fount of life sanded up (as one might
say) in that old Sker warren; and Bunny with her strength of feeding
weakened over rice and fowl-food; such as old Charles Morgan kept, who
had been known to threaten to feed his family upon sawdust. A most
respectable man, as well as churchwarden and undertaker; but being bred
a pure carpenter, he thought (when his money came in fast, and great
success surprised him) that Providence would be offended at his waste of
sawdust.
Now this was the man who had Bunny to keep, entirely from his own wish
of course, or the sense of the village concerning her; and many times I
had been ready to laugh, and as many times to cry almost, whenever I
thought of the many things that were likely to happen between them. To
laugh, when I thought of Churchwarden's face regarding our Bunny at
breakfast-time, and the way she would say, "I want some more," through
his narrow-shouldered children. To cry, when I thought of my dear son's
child (and as dear to me as my own almost) getting less of victuals
daily, as her welcome should grow staler, and giving way to her old
trick of standing on the floor with eyes shut, and with shut mouth to
declare, "I won't eat, now you have starved me so;" and no one in that
house with wit to understand and humour her. And then I could see her go
to bed, in a violent temper anyhow: and when the wind boxed round to
north, I could hear her calling, "Granny."
This very tender state of mind, and sense of domestic memories, seems to
have drawn me (so far as I can, in a difficult case, remember it)
towards a very ancient inn having two bow-windows. When I entered, no
man could be in a stricter state of sobriety: and as if it were
yesterday, I remember asking the price of everything. The people were
even inclined to refuse to draw anything in the small-liquor line for a
man with so little respect for trade as to walk so straight upon New
Year's Day. After a little while, I made them see that this was not so
much my fault as my misfortune; and when I declared my name, of course,
and my character came forward, even rum-shrub out of a cask with golden
hoops around it scarcely seemed to be considered good enough for me,
gratis. But throughout the whole of this, I felt an anxious and burning
sense of eager responsibility, coupled with a strong desire to be
everywhere at once.
Right early, to the very utmost of my recollection, I tumbled into my
lonely berth, after seeing my fusil primed, and praying to the Lord for
guidance through another and a better year. I had clean sheets, which
are my most luxurious gift of feeling; and having no room to stretch my
legs, or roll, I managed space to yawn, and then went off deliciously.
Now I was beginning to dream about the hole I had placed my money in--a
clever contrivance of my own, and not in the cuddy at all, because the
enemy might attack me there--when a terrible fit of coughing came and
saved my life by waking me. The little cuddy was full of
smoke--parching, blinding, choking smoke--so thick that I could scarcely
see the red glare of fire behind it, through the brattice of the
bulkhead.
"Good Lord," I cried, "have mercy on me! Sure enough, I am done for now.
And nobody ever will know or care what the end was of old Dyo!"
I did not stop still to say all this, that you may be quite sure of, and
it argues no small power of speech that I was able to say anything. For
with a last desire for life, and despairing resolve to try again, I
broke my knuckles against the hatch which I had made so heavy for the
purpose of protecting me. To go out through my door would have been to
rush into the fire itself; and what with the choking, and the thickness,
and the terror of the flames violently reddening and roaring a few feet
away, I felt my wits beginning to fail me, which of course was certain
death. So I sate down on a three-legged stool, which was all my
furniture; and for a moment the rushing smoke drew, by some draught,
otherwhere; and whether I would or no, a deal of my past life came up to
me. I wondered whether I might have been too hard sometimes on any one,
or whether I might have forgotten to think of the Lord, upon any Sunday.
And then my thoughts were elevated to the two dear children.
Now what do you think happened to me, when I thought of those two
darlings, and the tears from smoke made way for the deep-born tears of a
noble heart? Why simply that a flash of flame glanced upon the iron
crowbar, wherewith I had opened hatch. I could not have been in pure
bright possession of my Maker's gifts to me when I chanced, before going
to bed, to lay that crowbar for my pillow-case. Nevertheless I had done
it well: and in the stern perception of this desperate extremity, I
could not help smiling at the way I had tucked up my head on the
crowbar. But (though no time is lost in smiling) I had not a moment to
lose even now, although with my utmost wits all awake and coughing. I
prised the hatch up in half a moment, where it was stuck in the
combings; and if ever a man enjoyed a draught, I did so of air that
moment. Many men might have been frightened still, and not have known
what to do with themselves. But I assure you, in all honour, that the
whole of my mind came back quite calmly, when I was out of smothering.
People may say what they like; but I know, after seeing every form of
death (and you need not laugh at me very much, if I even said feeling
it)--I know no anguish to be compared to the sense of being pressed
under slowly; and the soul with no room to get away.
But I was under the good stars now, and able to think and to look about;
and though the ketch could not last long, being of 92 tons only, I found
time enough to kneel and thank my God for His mercy to me. There was no
ice in the river now, and to swim ashore would have been but little,
except for rheumatics afterwards. But it seemed just as well to escape
even these; and having been burned out at sea before, I was better
enabled to manage it. The whole of the waist of the ketch was in flames,
curling and beginning now to indulge their desire of roaring; but the
kindness of the Lord prevented wind from blowing. Had there been only a
four-knot breeze, you would never have heard of me again; surely which
would grieve you.
In this very sad state of mind, combined with a longing for
thankfulness, and while I was thinking about the fire--to say the truth,
very stupidly, and wondering instead of working--quite an old-fashioned
affair restored me to my wits and my love of the world again. This was
the strong sour sound of the air when a bullet comes through it hastily,
and casting reproach upon what we breathe, for its want of a stronger
activity. A man had made a shot at me, and must have been a lubber by
his want of range and common-sense. Before I could think, I was all
alive, and fit to enjoy myself almost, as if it were a fight with
Frenchmen. The first thing I thought of was the gun lent to me by Miss
Carey. To rescue this, I went down even into the cuddy which had so
lately proved my very grave almost; and after this I saw no reason why I
should not save my money, if the Lord so willed it. From a sense of all
the mischief even now around me, I had made a clever hole in the
bow-knees of the ketch (where the wood lay thickest), and so had plugged
my money up, with the power to count it daily. And now in spite of
flame, and roar, and heat of all the 'midships, and the spluttering of
the rock-powder bags too wet to be unanimous, I made my mind up just to
try to save my bit of money.
Because, although a man may be as coarse, and wicked, and vile-hearted,
as even my very worst enemies are, he cannot fail of getting on, and
being praised, and made the best of, if he only does his best to stick
tight to his money. Therefore, having no boat within reach, and the
'midship all aflame, I made a raft of the cuddy-hatch, and warped along
by the side of the ketch, and purchased my cash from its little nest;
and then with a thankful heart, and nothing but a pair of breeches on,
made the best of my way ashore, punting myself with a broken oar.
This desire to sacrifice me (without the trouble even taken to count
what my value was) gave me such a sense of shock, and of spreading
abroad everywhere, without any knowledge left of what might have become
of me, and the subject liable to be dropped, if ever entered into by a
Jolly Crowner, and a jury glad to please him, that for the moment I
sate down upon a shelf of clay, until the wet came through my want of
clothes. Suddenly this roused me up to make another trial for the sake
of my well-accustomed and familiar suit of clothes, so well beloved;
also even my Sunday style, more striking but less comfortable; in lack
of which the world could never have gone on in our neighbourhood.
Therefore I ran to my little punt, and pushed off and was just in time
to save my kit, with a little singeing.
The ketch burned down to the water's edge, and then a rough tide came up
and sank her, leaving me in a bitter plight, and for some time quite
uncertain how to face the future. From knowledge of the Parson's style
of treating similar cases, I felt it to be a most likely thing that I
should be charged with firing her, robbing her, and concealing booty.
And this injustice added to the bitterness of my close escape. "It is no
use," I said aloud; "it is useless to contend with him. He has sold
himself to Satan, and, thank God, I have no chance with him." Therefore
by the time the fire had created some disturbance in the cottage
bedrooms, I had got my clothing on, in a decent though hasty manner, and
slipped into a little wood with my spy-glass, happily saved, and
resolved to watch what happened in among the bumpkins.
These came down, and stared and gawked, and picked up bits of singed
spars, and so on, and laid down the law to one another, and fought for
the relics, and thought it hard that no man's body was to be found with
clothes on. I saw them hunting for me, up and down the river channel,
with a desperate ignorance of tide (although living so close to it), and
I did not like to have my body hunted for like that. But I repressed all
finer feelings, as a superior man must do, and chewed the tip of a
bullock's tongue, which luckily was in my waistcoat-pocket, ready for
great emergency; and which, if a man keeps going on with, he may go,
like the great Elijah, forty days, and feel no hunger. At least, I have
heard so, and can believe it, having seen men who told me so; but I
would rather have it proved by another man's experience.
While I was looking on at these things, down came Parson Chowne himself,
in a happy mood, and riding the black mare, now brought out of dock
again. The country folk all fell away from their hope of stealing
something, and laid fingers to their hats, being afraid to talk of him.
He, however, did no more than sign to the serving-man behind him, to
acknowledge compliments (which was outside his own custom), and then he
put spurs to his horse and galloped right and left through the lot of
them. In my anxiety to learn what this dreadful man was up to, I slipped
down through the stubs of the wood, where the faggot-cutters had been at
work, gliding even upon my jersey, because of the Parson's piercing
eyes, and there in the ditch I found some shelter, and spied through a
bushy breastwork.
"No more than I expected," he cried, "from what I have seen of the
fellow; he has fired the ship, and run away with all he could lay hands
on. As a Justice of the Peace, I offer ten pounds reward for David
Llewellyn, brought before me, alive or dead. Is there one of you
rantipoles can row? Oh, you can. Take this shilling, and be off with
that big thief's ferry-boat, and leave it at Sam Tucker's shipyard, in
the name of the Reverend Stoyle Chowne."
It went to my heart that none of the people to whom I had been so "good
and kind"--to use pretty Bardie's phrase--now had the courage to stand
up, and say that my character was most noble, and claim back my boat for
me. Instead of that, they all behaved as if I had never ferried them;
and the ingratitude of the young women made me long to be in Wales
again. Because, you may say what you like; but the first point in our
people is gratitude.
"Of course," cried Chowne, and his voice, though gently used, came down
the wind like a bell; "of course, good people, you have not found the
corpse of that wretched villain."
"Us would giv' un up, glad enough, if us only gat the loock, for tan
zhilling, your Raverance. Lave aloun tan poond."
When that miserable miser said a thing so low as that, my very flesh
crept on my bones, and my inmost heart was sick with being made so very
little of. To myself I always had a proper sense of estimation; and to
be put at this low figure made me doubt of everything. However, I came
to feel, after a bit, that this is one of the trials which all good men
must put up with: neither would a common man find his corpse worth ten
pounds sterling.
Betwixt my sense of public value (a definite sum, at any rate) and
imagination of what my truly natural abilities might lead me to, if
properly neglected, I found it a blessed hard thing to lie quiet until
dark, and then slip out. And the more so, because my stock of food was
all consumed by middle day; and before the sun went down, hunger of a
great shape and size arose and raged within me. This is always
difficult to discipline or to reason with; and to men of the common
order it suggests great violence. To me it did nothing of that kind, but
led me into a little shop, where I paid my money, and got my loaf. My
flint and steel and tinder-box lay in my pocket handy. These I felt and
felt again, and went into the woods and thought, and found that even
want of food had failed to give me a thorough-going and consistent
appetite. Because, for the first time in my life, I had shaped a strong
resolve, and sworn to the Lord concerning it--to commit a downright
crime, and one which I might be hanged for. Although every one who has
entered into my sufferings and my dignity must perceive how right I was,
and would never inform against me, I will only say that on Saturday
evening Parson Chowne had fourteen ricks, and on Sunday morning he had
none, and might begin to understand the feelings of the many farmers who
had been treated thus by him. Right gladly would I have beheld his face
(so rigid and contemptuous at other people's trouble) when he should
come to contemplate his own works thus brought home to him. But I could
not find a hedge thick enough to screen me from his terrible piercing
eyes.
This little bit of righteous action made a stir, you may be sure,
because it was so contrary to the custom of the neighbourhood. Although
I went to see this fire, I took the finest care to leave no evidence
behind me; and even turned my bits of toggery inside out at starting.
But there was a general sense in among these people, that only a
foreigner could have dared to fly in the Parson's face so. I waited long
enough to catch the turn of the public feeling, and finding it set hard
against me, my foremost thought was the love of home.
Keeping this in view, and being pressed almost beyond bearing now, with
no certainty, moreover, as to warrants coming out, and the people
looking strangely, every time they met me, I could have no peace until I
saw the beautiful young lady, and to her told everything. You should
have seen her eyes and cheeks, as well as the way her heart went; and
the pride with which she gathered all her meaning up to speak; even
after I had told her how the ricks would burn themselves.
"You dear old Davy," she said, "I never thought you had so much courage.
You are the very bravest man--but stop, did you burn the whole of them?"
"Every one burned itself, your ladyship; I saw the ashes dying down, and
his summer-house as well took fire, through the mischief of the wind,
and all his winter stock of wood, and his tool-house, and his----"
"Any more, any more, old David?"
"Yes, your ladyship, his cow-house, after the cows were all set free,
and his new cart-shed fifty feet long, also his carpenter's shop, and
his cider-press."
"You are the very best man," she answered, with her beautiful eyes full
upon me, "that I have seen, since I was a child. I must think what to do
for you. Did you burn anything more, old Davy?"
"The fire did, your ladyship, three large barns, and a thing they call a
'linhay;' also the granary, and the meal-house, and the apple-room, and
the churn-room, and only missed the dairy by a little nasty slant of
wind."
"What a good thing you have done! There is scarcely any man I know, that
would have shown such courage. Mr Llewellyn, is there anything in my
power to do for you?"
Nothing could have pleased me more than to find this fair young lady
rejoicing in this generous manner at the Parson's misadventure. And her
delight in the contemplation made me almost feel repentance at the
delicate forbearance of the flames from the Rectory itself. But I could
not help reflecting how intense and bitter must be this young harmless
creature's wrong received and dwelling in her mind, ere she could find
pleasure from wild havoc and destruction.
"There is one thing you can do," I answered very humbly; "and it is my
only chance to escape from misconstruction. I never thought, at my time
of life, to begin life so again. But I am now a homeless man, burned out
of my latest refuge, and with none to care for me. Perhaps I may be
taken up to-morrow, or the next day. And with such a man against me, it
must end in hanging."
"I never heard such a thing," she said: "he tries to burn you in your
bed, after blowing you up, and doing his very best to drown you; and
then you are to be hanged because there is a bonfire on his premises! It
is impossible, Mr Llewellyn, to think twice of such a thing."
"Your ladyship may be right," I answered; "and in the case of some one
else, reasoning would convince me. But if I even stop to think twice, it
will lead to handcuffs; and handcuffs lead to halter."
At this she began to be frightened much, and her fright grew worse, as I
described the unpleasantness of hanging; how I had helped myself to run
up nine good men at the yard-arm. And a fine thing for their souls, no
doubt, to stop them from more mischief, and let them go up while the
Lord might think that other men had injured them.
"Your ladyship," I began again, when I saw all her delicate colour
ebbing; "it is not for a poor hunted man to dare to beg a favour."
"Oh yes, it is, it is," she cried; "that is the very time to do it.
Anything in my power, David, after all you have done for me."
"Then all that I want of your ladyship is to get me rated aboard of
Captain Drake Bampfylde's ship."
She coloured up so clearly that I was compelled to look away: and then
she said--
"How do you know--I mean who can have told you that--but are you not
too--perhaps a little----"
"Too old, your ladyship? Not a day. I am worth half-a-dozen of those
young chips who have got no bones to their legs yet. And as for
shooting, if his Honour wants a man to train a cannon, I can hit a
marlinspike with a round-shot, at a mile and a half, as soon as I learn
the windage."
For I knew by this time that Captain Bampfylde's ship, the Alcestis, was
in reserve, as a feeder for the Royal Navy, to catch young hands and
train them to some knowledge of sealife, and smartness, and the styles
of gunnery. And who could teach them these things better than a veteran
like me?
Miss Carey smiled at my conceit, as perhaps she considered it; "Well,
Davy, if you can fire a gun, as well as you can a hay-rick----"
"No more, your ladyship, I beseech you. Even walls like these have ears;
and every time I see my shadow, I take it for a constable. I am sure
there are two men after me----"
"Have you then two shadows?" she asked, in her peculiar pleasant way:
"at any rate no one will dare to meddle with you, or any of us, I should
hope, in the General's own house. Come in here. I expect, or at least I
think, there is some prospect of a boat from the Alcestis coming up the
river this very evening. Perhaps you have some baggage."
"No, your ladyship, not a bit. They burned me out of all of it. But I
saved some money kindly, by special grace of God, at the loss of all my
leg-hair."
I ought not to have said that, I knew, directly after uttering it, to a
young lady who could not yet be up to things of that kind.