The news spread in a moment for other and sharper eyes in the village
had already observed the sail, and, ere long, the beach was crowded with
natives.
By that time most of the Ratingans had adopted more or less, chiefly
less, of European costume, so that the aspect of the crowd was anything
but savage. It is true there were large proportions of brown humanity
presented to view--such as arms, legs, necks, and chests, but these were
picturesquely interspersed with striped cotton drawers, duck trousers,
gay guernseys, red and blue flannel petticoats, numerous caps and straw
hats as well as a few coal-scuttles--though none of the latter could
match that of Betsy Waroonga for size and tremulosity.
But there were other signs of civilisation there besides costume, for,
in addition to the neat huts and gardens and whitewashed church, there
was a sound issuing from the pointed spire which was anything but
suggestive of the South sea savage. It was the church bell--a small
one, to be sure, but sweetly toned--which was being rung violently to
call in all the fighting men from the woods and fields around, for at
that time the Ratingans had to be prepared for the reception of foes as
well as friends.
A trusty chief had been placed in charge of the village by Tomeo before
he left. This man now disposed his warriors in commanding positions as
they came trooping in, obedient to the call, and bade them keep out of
sight and watch his signals from the beach.
But now let us see what vessel it was that caused such commotion in
Ratinga.
She was a brig, with nothing particularly striking in her rig or
appointments--a mere trading vessel. But on her bulwarks at the bow and
on the heel of the bowsprit was gathered a group that well deserves
notice, for there, foremost of all, and towering above the others, stood
Antonio Zeppa, holding on to a forestay, and gazing with intensity and
fixedness at the speck of land which had just been sighted. Beside him,
and not less absorbed, stood his valiant and amiable son; while around,
in various attitudes, sat or stood the chiefs Tomeo and Buttchee, Rosco
and Ebony, Ongoloo and Wapoota, and little Lippy with her mother!
But the native missionary was not there. He had positively refused to
quit the desert which had so unexpectedly and suddenly begun to blossom
as the rose, and had remained to water the ground until his friends
should send for him.
The chief and prime minister of the Mountain-men were there because,
being large-minded, they wished to travel and see the world; and Lippy
was there because Zeppa liked her; while the mother was there because
she liked Lippy and refused to be parted from her.
Great was the change which had come over Zeppa during his convalescence.
The wild locks and beard had been cut and trimmed; the ragged garments
had been replaced by a suit belonging to Orley, and the air of wild
despair, alternating with vacant simplicity, which characterised him in
his days of madness, had given place to the old, sedate, sweet look of
gentle gravity. It is true the grey hairs had increased in number, and
there was a look, or, rather, an effect, of suffering in the fine face
which nothing could remove; but much of the muscular vigour and the
erect gait had been regained during those months when he had been so
carefully and untiringly nursed by his son on Sugar-loaf Island.
It was not so with the ex-pirate. Poor Rosco was a broken man. The
shock to his frame from the partial burning and the subsequent
amputation of his feet had been so great that a return to anything like
vigour seemed out of the question. But there was that in the expression
of his faded face, and in the light of his sunken eye, which carried
home the conviction that the ruin of his body had been the saving of his
soul.
"I cannot tell you, Orley, how thankful I am," said Zeppa, "that this
trader happened to touch at the island. As I grew stronger my anxiety
to return home became more and more intense; and to say truth, I had
begun to fear that Captain Fitzgerald had forgotten us altogether."
"No fear of that, father. The captain is sure to keep his promise. He
will either return, as he said, or send some vessel to look after us.
What are you gazing at, Ebony?"
"De steepil, massa. Look!" cried the negro, his whole face quivering
with excitement, and the whites of his eyes unusually obtrusive as he
pointed to the ever-growing line of land on the horizon, "you see him?--
glippering like fire!"
"I do see something glittering," said Orlando, shading his eyes with his
hand; "yes, it must be the steeple of the church, father. Look, it was
not there when you left us. We'll soon see the houses now."
"Thank God!" murmured Zeppa, in a deep, tremulous voice.
"Can you see it, Rosco?" said Orley.
The pirate turned his eyes languidly in the direction pointed out.
"I see the land," he said faintly, "and I join your father in thanking
God for that--but--but it is not _home_ to me."
"Come, friend," said Zeppa, laying his hand gently on the poor man's
shoulder, "say not so. It shall be home to you yet, please God. If He
has blotted out the past in the cleansing blood of the Lamb, what is man
that he should remember it? Cheer up, Rosco, you shall find a home and
a welcome in Ratinga."
"Always returning good for evil, Zeppa," said Rosco, in a more cheerful
voice. "I think it is this tremendous weakness that crushes my spirits,
but come--I'll try to `cheer up,' as you advise."
"Dat's right massa!" cried Ebony, in an encouraging tone; "an' jus' look
at the glipperin' steepil. He'll do yous heart good--somet'ing like de
fire in de wilderness to de Jipshins--"
"To the Israelites you mean," said Orley.
"Ah, yis--de Izlrights, to be sure. I mis-remembered. Ho! look; dar's
de house-tops now; an' the pine grove whar' we was use to hold palaver
'bout you, Massa, arter you was lost; an'--yis--dat's de house--yous own
house. You see de wife lookin' out o' winder bery soon. I knows it by
de pig-sty close 'longside whar' de big grumper sow libs, dat Ziffa's so
fond o' playin' wid. Ho! Lippy, come here, you little naked ting," (he
caught up the child an' sat her on his broad shoulder). "You see de
small leetil house. Dat's it. Dat's whar' Ziffa lubs to play, but
she'll hab you to play wid soon, an' den she'll forsake de ole sow. Ho!
but I forgit--you no understan' English."
Hereupon Ebony began to translate his information as he best could into
the language of the little creature, in which effort he was not very
successful, being an indifferent linguist.
Meanwhile the vessel gradually neared the island, stood into the lagoon,
and, finally, dropped anchor. A boat was at once lowered and made for
the shore.
And oh! how intensely and intently did those in the boat and those on
the shore gaze at each other as the space between them diminished!
"They not look like enemies," said Betsy in subdued tones.
"And I don't think they are armed," returned Marie, with palpitating
heart, "but I cannot yet make out the faces--only, they seem to be
white, some of them."
"Yis, an' some of 'em's brown."