Humbly confessing to Emma Gray that he had no talent whatever for
plotting, Captain Wopper went off with a deprecatory expression of
countenance to reveal himself to Mrs Roby. Great was his anxiety. He
entered her presence like a guilty thing. If, however, his anxiety was
great, his surprise and consternation were greater when she received his
revelation with tears, and for some time refused to be comforted!
The workings of the human mind are wonderful. Sometimes they are, as
the Captain said, bamboozling. If analysed it might have been
discovered that, apart altogether from the shock of unexpectedness and
the strain on her credulity, poor Mrs Roby suffered--without clearly
understanding it--from a double loss. She had learned to love Captain
Wopper for his own sake, and now Captain Wopper was lost to her in
William Stout! On the other hand William, her darling, her smooth-faced
chubby boy, was lost to her for ever in the hairy savage Captain Wopper!
It was perplexing as well as heart-rending. Captain Wopper was gone,
because, properly, there was no such being in existence. William Stout
was gone because he would never write to her any more, and could never
more return to her from California!
It was of no use that the Captain expressed the deepest contrition for
the deception he had practised, urging that he had done it "for the
best;" the old woman only wept the more; but when, in desperation, the
Captain hauled taut the sheets of his intellect, got well to wind'ard of
the old 'ooman an' gave her a broadside of philosophy, he was more
successful.
"Mother," he said, earnestly, "you don't feel easy under this breeze,
'cause why? you're entirely on the wrong tack. Ready about now, an' see
what a change it'll make. Look 'ee here. You've _gained_ us both
instead of lost us both. Here am I, Willum Stout yours to command, a
trifle stouter, it may be, and hairier than I once was, not to say
older, but by a long chalk better able to love the old girl who took me
in, an' befriended me when I was a reg'lar castaway, with dirty weather
brewin', an' the rocks o' destitootion close under my lee; and who'll
never forget your kindness, no never, so long as two timbers of the old
hulk hold together. Well then, that's the view over the starboard
bulwarks. Cast your eyes over to port now. Here am I, Captain Wopper,
also yours to command, strong as a horse, as fond o' you as if you was
my own mother, an' resolved to stick by you through thick and thin to
the last. So you see, you've got us both--Willum an' me--me an' Willum,
both of us lovin' you like blazes an' lookin' arter you like dootiful
sons. A double tide of affection, so to speak, flowin' like strong
double-stout from the beer barrel out of which you originally drew me,
if I may say so. Ain't you convinced?"
Mrs Roby _was_ convinced. She gave in, and lived for many years
afterwards in the full enjoyment of the double blessing which had thus
fallen to her lot in the evening of her days.
And here, good reader, we might close our tale; but we cannot do so
without a few parting words in reference to the various friends in whose
company we have travelled so long.
Of course it is unnecessary to say, (especially to our lady readers, who
were no doubt quite aware of it from the beginning), that Lawrence and
Emma, Lewis and Nita, were, in the course of time, duly married. The
love of their respective wives for each other induced the husbands not
only to dwell in adjoining villas, but to enter into a medical
co-partnery, in the prosecution of which they became professionally the
deities, and, privately, the adored of a large population of invalids--
with their more or less healthy friends--in the salubrious neighbourhood
of Kensington. To go about "doing good" was the business, and became
the second nature, of the young doctors. It was long a matter of great
surprise to not a few of their friends that though Lawrence and Lewis
neither smoked nor drank, they were uncommonly healthy and apparently
happy! Some caustic spirits asserted that they were sure budding wings
were to be found on the shoulders of the two doctors, but we are
warranted in asserting, on the best authority, that on a strict
examination, nothing of the kind was discovered. Need we say that Emma
and Nita were pattern wives? Of course not, therefore we won't say it.
Our reticence on this point will no doubt be acceptable to those who,
being themselves naughty, don't believe in or admire "patterns," even
though these be of "heavenly things." It is astonishing, though, what
an effect their so-called "perfection" had in tightening the bonds of
matrimony. Furthermore, they had immense families of sons and
daughters, insomuch that it became necessary to lengthen their cords and
strengthen their stakes, and "Calyforny Villa" became a mere band-box
compared to the mansions which they ultimately called "home."
Mrs Stoutley having managed to get entirely out of _herself_--chiefly
by means of the Bible and the London gold-fields and moraines--became so
amiable and so unlike her former self, and, withal, so healthy and
cheery, that the two great families of Stoutley and Lawrence went to war
for possession of her.
The feud at last threatened to become chronic, and was usually carried
to an excess of virulence about Christmas and New Year time. In order,
therefore, to the establishment of peace, Mrs Stoutley agreed to live
one-half of the year with Lewis, and the other half with Lawrence--Lewis
to have the larger half as a matter of course; but she retained her
cottage in Notting Hill and her maid Netta White, with the right to
retire at any moment, when the exigencies of the gold-fields or the
moraines demanded special attention; or when the excess of juvenile life
in the mansions before mentioned became too much for her. On these
occasions of retirement which, to say truth, were not very frequent, she
was accompanied by Netta White--for Netta loved her mistress and clave
to her as Ruth to Naomi. Being a native of the "fields," she was an
able and sympathetic guide and adviser at all times, and nothing pleased
Netta better than a visit to Grubb's Court, for there she saw the
blessed fruit of diamond and gold digging illustrated in the person of
her own reformed father and happy mother, who had removed from their
former damp rooms on the ground floor to the more salubrious apartments
among the chimney pots, which had been erected on the site of the
"cabin" after "the fire." Directly below them, in somewhat more
pretentious apartments, shone another rescued diamond in the person of
Fred Leven. He was now the support and comfort of his old mother as
well as of a pretty little young woman who had loved him even while he
was a drunkard, and who, had it been otherwise decreed, would have gone
on loving him and mourning over him and praying for him till he was
dead. In her case, however, the mourning had been turned into joy.
In process of time Gillie White, _alias_ the spider, became a sturdy,
square-set, active little man, and was promoted to the position of
coachman in the family of Lewis Stoutley. Susan Quick served in the
same family in the capacity of nurse for many years, and, being
naturally thrown much into the society of the young coachman, was
finally induced to cement the friendship which had begun in Switzerland
by a wedding. This wedding, Gillie often declared to Susan, with much
earnestness, was the "stunninest ewent that had ever occurred to him in
his private capacity as a man."
There is a proverb which asserts that "it never rains but it pours."
This proverb was verified in the experience of the various personages of
our tale, for soon after the tide of fortune had turned in their favour,
the first showers of success swelled into absolute cataracts of
prosperity. Among other things, the Gowrong mines suddenly went right.
Mrs Stoutley's former man of business, Mr Temple, called one day, and
informed her that her shares in that splendid undertaking had been
purchased, on her behalf, by a friend who had faith in the ultimate
success of the mines; that the friend forbade the mention of his name;
and that he, Mr Temple, had called to pay her her dividends, and to
congratulate her on her recovery of health and fortune. Dr Tough--who,
when his services were no longer required, owing to the absence of
illness, had continued his visits as a jovial friend--chanced to call at
the same time with Mr Temple, and added his congratulations to those of
the man of business, observing, with enthusiasm, that the air of the
Swiss mountains, mixed in equal parts with that of the London
diamond-fields, would cure any disease under the sun. His former
patient heartily agreed with him, but said that the medicine in question
was not a mere mixture but a chemical compound, containing an element
higher than the mountains and deeper than the diamond-fields, without
which the cure would certainly not have been effected.
Need we say that Captain Wopper stuck to Mrs Roby and the "new cabin"
to the last? Many and powerful efforts were made to induce him to bring
his "mother" to dwell in Kensington, but Mrs Roby flatly refused to
move again under any suasion less powerful than that of a fire. The
eldest of Lewis Stoutley's boys therefore hit on a plan for frequent and
easy inter-communication. He one day suggested the idea of a
boating-club to his brothers and companions. The proposal was received
with wild enthusiasm. The club was established, and a boathouse, with
all its nautical appurtenances, was built under the very shadow of Mrs
Roby's dwelling. A trusty "diamond" from Grubb's Court was made
boat-cleaner and repairer and guardian of the keys, and Captain Wopper
was created superintendent general director, chairman, honorary member,
and perpetual grand master of the club, in which varied offices he
continued to give unlimited satisfaction to the end of his days.
As for Slingsby, he became an aspirant to the honours of the Royal
Academy, and even dreamt of the president's chair! Not being a madman,
he recovered from the disease of blighted hopes, and discovered that
there were other beings as well as Nita worth living for! He also
became an intimate and welcome visitor at the two Kensington mansions,
the walls of which were largely decorated with his productions. Whether
he succeeded in life to the full extent of his hopes we cannot say, but
we have good reason to believe that he did not entirely fail.
From time to time Lewis heard of his old guide Antoine Grennon from
friends who at various periods paid a visit to the glaciers of
Switzerland, and more than once, in after years, he and his family were
led by that prince of guides over the old romantic and familiar ground,
where things were not so much given to change as in other regions; where
the ice-rivers flowed with the same aspects, the same frozen currents,
eddies, and cataracts as in days gone by; where the elderly guides were
replaced by youthful guides of the same type and metal--ready to breast
the mountain slopes and scale the highest peaks at a moment's notice;
and where Antoine's cottage stood unchanged, with a pretty and rather
stout young woman usually kneeling in a tub, engaged in the destruction
of linen, and a pretty little girl, who called her "mother," busy with a
miniature washing of her own. The only difference being that the child
called Antoine "grandfather," and appeared to regard a strapping youth
who dwelt there as her sire, and a remarkably stout but handsome
middle-aged woman as her grandmother.
Last, but not least, the Professor claims a parting word. Little,
however, is known as to the future career of the genial man of science,
one of whose chief characteristics was his reverent recognition of God
in conversing about His works. After returning to his home in the cold
north he corresponded for some years with Dr Lawrence, and never failed
to express his warmest regard for the friends with whom he had the good
fortune to meet while in Switzerland. He was particularly emphatic--we
might almost say enthusiastic--in his expressions of regard for Captain
Wopper, expressions and sentiments which the bold mariner heartily
reciprocated, and he often stated to Mrs Roby, over an afternoon cup of
tea, his conviction that that Roosian Professor was out o' sight one of
the best fellows he had ever met with, and that the remembrance of him
warmed his heart to furriners in general and Roosians in particular.
This remark usually had the effect of inducing Mrs Roby to ask some
question about his, the Captain's, intercourse with the Professor, which
question invariably opened the flood-gates of the Captain's memory, and
drew from him prolonged and innumerable "yarns" about his visit to the
Continent--yarns which are too long to be set down here, for the Captain
never tired of relating, and old Mrs Roby never wearied of listening,
to his memorable rambles on the snow-capped mountains, and his strange
adventures among the--Rivers of Ice.