[Illustration]
When the boat which we saw approaching the island had come near enough
for us to distinguish its occupants, we found that it contained five
persons. Three sat in the stern, and two were rowing. Of those in the
stern, we soon made out one to be a woman, and after putting our
eyesight to its very best efforts, we were obliged to admit that there
was only one female on board.
"Now, that's disapp'intin'," said Mrs. Aleshine, "for I've wondered and
wondered which I should like best, Emily or Lucille, and now that only
one of 'em has come, of course I can't tell."
The boat came on, almost directly toward the passageway in the reef, and
it was not long before the two women had been able to decide that Mr.
Dusante was an elderly man, and that the lady was moderately young, and
in all probability his daughter.
"It may be," said Mrs. Aleshine, "that the mother, whether she was
Emily, or whether she was Lucille, has died, and for that reason they
are comin' back sooner than they expected."
"Well, I hope you're wrong there, Barb'ry Aleshine," said Mrs. Lecks,
"for they'll see lots of things here that will freshen up their
affliction, and that won't make 'em any too lively people to be with."
"On the other hand," said Mrs. Aleshine, "it may be that Emily, or else
Lucille, has got married, and has gone away with her husband to travel,
and by the time she's got a little baby she'll come here to live on
account of the sea air for the child, and that'll make the house
pleasant, Mrs. Lecks."
"I'd like to know how long you expect to live here," said Mrs. Lecks,
regarding her friend with some severity.
"That's not for me to say," replied Mrs. Aleshine, "knowin' nothin'
about it. But this I will say, that I hope they have brought along with
them some indigo blue, for I nearly used up all there was the last time
I washed."
During this dialogue I had been thinking that it was a very strange
thing for the owners of this place to visit their island in such a
fashion. Why should they be in an open boat? And where did they come
from? Wherever they might live, it was not at all probable that they
would choose to be rowed from that point to this. From the general
character and appointments of the house in which we had found a refuge,
it was quite plain that its owners were people in good circumstances,
who were in the habit of attending to their domestic affairs in a very
orderly and proper way. It was to be presumed that it was their custom
to come here in a suitable vessel, and to bring with them the stores
needed during their intended stay. Now, there could be little or nothing
in that boat, and, on the whole, I did not believe it contained the
owners of this island.
It would not do, however, to assume anything of the kind. There might
have been a disaster; in fact, I know nothing about it, but it was my
immediate duty to go and meet these people at the passage, for, if they
were unable to unlock the bars, their boat could not enter, and I must
ferry them across the lagoon. Without communicating my doubts to my
companions, I hurried into the skiff, and pulled as far as possible into
the passage through the reef. The bars, of which there were more than I
at first supposed, were so arranged that it was impossible for a boat to
go in or out at any stage of the tide.
I had been there but a few minutes when the boat from without came
slowly in between the rocks; and almost as soon as I saw it, its
progress was suddenly stopped by a sunken bar.
"Hello!" cried several men at once.
"Hello!" cried I, in return. "Have you the key to these bars?"
A stout man with a red beard stood up in the stern. "Key?" said he,
"what key?"
"Then you do not belong here?" said I. "Who are you?"
At this, the gentleman who was sitting by the lady arose to his feet. He
was a man past middle age, rather tall and slim, and when he stood up
the slight rolling of the boat made him stagger, and he came near
falling.
"You'd better sit down, sir," said the man with the red beard, who I saw
was a sailor. "You can talk better that way."
The gentleman now seated himself, and thus addressed me:
"I am, sir, the Reverend Mr. Enderton, lately missionary to Nanfouchong,
China, and this is my daughter, Miss Enderton. We are returning to the
United States by way of the Sandwich Islands, and took passage in a
sailing-vessel for Honolulu. About two weeks ago this vessel, in some
way which I do not understand, became disabled—"
"Rotten forem'st," interrupted the man with the red beard, "which give
way in a gale; strained and leaky, besides."
"I did not know the mast was rotten," said the gentleman, "but, since
the occasion of our first really serviceable wind, she has been making
very unsatisfactory progress. And, more than that, the whole force of
seamen was employed night and day in endeavoring to keep the water out
of the tea, thereby causing such a thumping and pounding that sleep was
out of the question. Add to this the fact that our meals became very
irregular, and were sometimes entirely overlooked—"
"Prog was gettin' mighty short," interpolated the red-bearded man.
"You can easily discern, sir," continued the gentleman, "that it was
impossible for myself and my daughter to remain longer on that vessel,
on which we were the only passengers. I therefore requested the captain
to put us ashore at the nearest land, and, after more than a week of
delay and demur, he consented to do so."
"Couldn't do it," said the man, "till there was land nigh enough."
"The captain informed me," continued the gentleman, "that this island
was inhabited, and that I could here find shelter and repose until a
vessel could be sent from Honolulu to take me off. He furnished me with
this boat and three seamen, one of whom," pointing to the red-bearded
man, "is a coxswain. We have been rowing ever since early this morning,
with but a very moderate quantity of food and much discomfort. Now, sir,
you have heard my story; and I ask you, as one man to another, if you
still intend to bar your water-gates against us?"
"I did not bar the gates," I said, "and I would gladly unlock them if I
could. I belong to a shipwrecked party who took refuge here some two
weeks ago."
"And how did you get in?" hastily inquired the red-bearded coxswain.
"Our boat sunk when we were within sight of the island, and we came here
on life-preservers, and so got under the bars."
The two men who had been rowing now turned suddenly and looked at me.
They both had black beards, and they both exclaimed at the same moment,
"By George!"
"I won't stop here to tell any more of our story," said I. "The great
point now is to get you all ashore, and have you cared for."
"That's so!" said the coxswain. And the two sailors murmured, "Aye, aye,
sir."
The bar which stopped the progress of the larger boat was just under the
surface of the water, while another a foot above the water kept my skiff
about six feet distant from the other boat. There was some loose
flooring in the bottom of the coxswain's boat, and he ordered two of the
boards taken out, and with them a bridge was made, one end resting on
the bow of the larger boat, and the other on the iron bar by my skiff.
"Now," said the coxswain, "let the lady go first."
The elderly gentleman arose, as if he would prefer to take the lead, but
his daughter, who had not yet spoken a word, was passed forward by the
coxswain, steadied over the bridge by one of the sailors, and assisted
by me into the skiff. Then her father came aboard, and I rowed with them
to the wharf.
Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine came forward most cordially to meet them.
"Mr. Dusante, I suppose?" said Mrs. Lecks, while Mrs. Aleshine hurriedly
whispered in my ear, "Is it Lucille or Emily?"
As quickly as possible I explained the situation. For a few moments Mrs.
Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine stood speechless. Nothing which had happened to
them, the wreck of the steamer, the sinking of the boat, or our
experience with life-preservers, affected them so much as this
disappointment in regard to the problem of the Dusante family. Travel by
sea was all novel and strange to them, and they had expected all sorts
of things to which they were not accustomed, but they had never
imagined that Fate would be so hard upon them as to snatch away the
solution of this mystery just as they were about to put their hands upon
it. But, in spite of this sudden blow, the two good women quickly
recovered themselves, and with hearty and kindly words hurried the
missionary and his daughter to the house, while I went to bring over the
men.
I found the three sailors busy in securing their boat so that it would
not be injured by the rocks during the rising and falling of the tide.
When they had finished this job, they had to do a good deal of
scrambling before they reached my skiff.
"We thought at first, sir," said the coxswain, as I rowed them across
the lagoon, "that it was all gammon about your not livin' here, and
havin' no keys to them bars; but we've come to the 'pinion that if you'd
been able to unlock 'em you'd have done it sooner than take all this
trouble."
I now related my story more fully, and the men were greatly astonished
when they heard that my companions in this adventure were two women.
Upon my asking the coxswain why he had come to this island, he replied
that his captain had heard that people lived on it, although he knew
nothing about them; and that, as it would be almost impossible to get
his brig here with the wind that was then prevailing, and as he did not
wish to go out of his course anyway, he made up his mind that he would
rather lose the services of three men than keep that missionary on board
a day longer.
"You see, sir," said the coxswain, as we went ashore, "the parson
wouldn't never take it into account that we were short of prog, and
leakin' like Sam Hill; and because things were uncomfortable he growled
up and he growled down, till he was wuss for the spirits of the men than
the salt water comin' in or the hard-tack givin' out, and there was
danger, if he wasn't got rid of, that he'd be pitched overboard and left
to take his chances for a whale. And then, by sendin' us along, that
give the crew three half-rations a day extry, and that'll count for a
good deal in the fix they're in."
When I reached the house I took the men into the kitchen, where Mrs.
Aleshine already had the table spread. There were bread and cold meat,
while the tea-kettle steamed by the fire. In a very short time three
happy mariners sat round that table, while Mrs. Aleshine, with beaming
face, attended to their wants, and plied them with innumerable
questions. They had not finished eating when Mrs. Lecks entered the
kitchen.
"I put that minister and his daughter in the two front bedrooms," said
she to me, after hospitably greeting the three men, "which me and Mrs.
Aleshine had run and got ready for the Dusantes, as soon as you went in
your boat to meet 'em. The young lady was mighty nigh worn out, and glad
enough of the tea and things, and to get into bed. But the gentleman he
wanted a soft-boiled egg, and when I told him I hadn't come across no
hen-house yet on this island, he looked at me as if he didn't half
believe me, and thought I was keepin' the eggs to sell."
"Which it would be ridiculous to do," said Mrs. Aleshine, "in the middle
of an ocean like this."
"If he lets you off with soft-b'iled eggs, ma'am," said the coxswain,
very respectfully, "I think you may bless your stars."
"Aye, aye, sir," said the two sailors with black beards.
Miss Ruth Enderton and her father did not make their appearance until
the next morning at breakfast-time. I found the young lady a very
pleasant person. She was rather slight in figure, inclined to be pretty,
and was what might be called a warm-colored blonde. Her disposition was
quite sociable, and she almost immediately stepped into the favor of
Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine.
Mr. Enderton, however, was a person of another sort. He was a prim and
somewhat formal man, and appeared to be entirely self-engrossed, with
very vague notions in regard to his surroundings. He was not by any
means an ill-tempered man, being rather inclined to be placid than
otherwise; but he gave so little attention to circumstances and events
that he did not appear to understand why he should be incommoded by the
happenings of life. I have no doubt that he made existence on board the
disabled brig a hundred times more unsatisfactory than it would
otherwise have been. With his present condition he seemed very well
satisfied, and it was quite plain that he looked upon Mrs. Lecks, Mrs.
Aleshine, and myself as the proprietors of the establishment, having
forgotten, or paid no attention to, my statement in regard to our coming
here.
As soon as she thought it fit and proper—and this moment arrived in the
course of the first forenoon—Mrs. Lecks spoke to Mr. Enderton on the
subject of the board which should be paid to the Dusantes. She stated
the arrangements we had made in the matter, and then told him that as he
and his daughter had the best accommodations in the house, each
occupying a large, handsome room, she thought that he should pay fifteen
dollars a week for the two.
"Now, if your daughter," she continued, "can do anything about the house
which will be of real help, though for the life of me I don't see what
she can find to do, with me and Mrs. Aleshine here, somethin' might be
took off on account of her services; but of course you, sir, can't do
nothin', unless you was to preach on Sundays, and not knowin' what
denomination the Dusantes belong to, it wouldn't be fair to take their
money to pay for the preachin' of doctrines which, perhaps, they don't
believe in."
[Illustration: "MR. ENDERTON WAS A PERSON OF ANOTHER SORT."]
This financial proposal aroused Mr. Enderton's opposition. "When I came
here, madam," he said, "I did not expect to pay any board whatever, and
I think, moreover, that your rates are exorbitant. In Nanfouchong, if I
remember rightly, the best of board did not cost more than two or three
dollars a week."
"I don't want to say anything, sir," said Mrs. Lecks, "which might look
disrespectful, but as long as I've got a conscience inside of me I'm
not goin' to stay here and see the Dusantes lose money by Chinese
cheapness."
"I don't know anything about the Dusantes," said Mr. Enderton, "but I am
not going to pay fifteen dollars a week for board for myself and
daughter."
The discussion lasted for some time, with considerable warmth on each
side, and was at last ended by Mr. Enderton agreeing to pay board at the
same rate as the two women and myself, and each week to deposit in the
ginger-jar eight dollars for himself and daughter.
"You may not care to remember, sir," said Mrs. Lecks, with cold
severity, "that Mr. Craig and me and Mrs. Aleshine puts in services
besides, although, to be sure, they don't go into the jar."
"I only remember," said Mr. Enderton, "that I am paying an unjustifiable
price as it is."
Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine, however, were not at all of this opinion,
and they agreed that, if it should be in their power, they would see to
it that the Dusantes lost nothing by this close-fisted missionary.
After dinner—and I may remark that the newcomers were not consulted in
regard to the hours for meals—Mrs. Lecks had an interview with the
coxswain on the subject of board for himself and his two companions.
This affair, however, was very quickly settled, for the three mariners
had among them only one dollar and forty-three cents, and this, the
coxswain explained, they would like to keep for tobacco. It was
therefore settled that, as the three sailors could pay no money, as much
work as possible should be got out of them, and to this plan they
agreed heartily and cheerfully.
"There's only one thing we'll ask, ma'am," said the coxswain to Mrs.
Lecks, "and that is that we be put in a different mess from the parson.
We've now eat two meals with the passengers, and me and my mates is
agreed that that's about as much as we can go."
After this, therefore, the three men had their meals in the kitchen,
where they were generally joined by Mrs. Aleshine, who much delighted in
their company. But she made it a point sometimes to sit down with us in
the dining-room, merely to show that she had as much right there as
anybody.
"As to the work for them sailormen," said Mrs. Aleshine, "I don't see
what they're goin' to do. Of course they don't know nothin' about
gardenin', and it seems to me that the best thing to be done is to put
'em to fishin'."
Mrs. Lecks considered this a good suggestion, and accordingly the
coxswain and his companions were told that thereafter they would be
expected to fish for eight hours a day, Sundays excepted. This plan,
however, did not work very well. During the first two days the sailors
caught so many fish that, although the fishermen themselves had
excellent appetites for such food, it was found utterly impossible to
consume what they brought in. Consequently, it was ordered that
thereafter they should catch only as many fish as should be needed, and
then make themselves useful by assisting Mrs. Aleshine and Mrs. Lecks in
any manner they might direct.
I found it quite easy to become acquainted with Miss Ruth Enderton, as
she was very much inclined to conversation. "It's ever so long," she
said, "since I've had anybody to talk to."
She had left the United States when she was quite a little girl, and had
since seen nothing of her native land. She was, consequently, full of
questions about America, although quite willing to talk of her life in
China. Society, at least such kind as she had ever cared for, had been
extremely scarce in the little missionary station at which she had lived
so long, and now, coming from a wearisome sojourn on a disabled
sailing-vessel, with no company but the crew and a preoccupied father,
she naturally was delighted to get among people she could talk to. With
Mrs. Lecks, Mrs. Aleshine, and myself she soon became very friendly, and
showed herself to be a most lively and interesting young person.
I did all that I could to make Miss Ruth's time pass agreeably. I rowed
with her on the lagoon, taught her to fish, and showed her all the
pleasant points on the island which could be easily reached by walking.
Mr. Enderton gave us very little of his company, for, having discovered
that there was a library in the house, he passed most of his time in
that room.
"You have made a very fair selection of books, sir," he remarked to me,
"but it may readily be conceived, from the character of the works, that
your tastes are neither ecclesiastic nor scientific."
Several times I explained to him the ownership of the library and the
house, but he immediately forgot what I had said, or paid no attention
to it. When he paid his board at the end of the week, he handed the
money to Mrs. Lecks; and although before his eyes she put it into the
ginger-jar, beneath the paper of fish-hooks, I know very well that he
considered he was paying it to her for her own use and behoof. He was
comfortably lodged, he had all that he needed—and very nearly all that
he wanted—to eat, and I do not know that I ever saw a man more
contented with his lot.
[Illustration: "I DID ALL THAT I COULD TO MAKE MISS RUTH'S TIME PASS
AGREEABLY."]
As for the coxswain and the two sailors, they had a very pleasant time
of it, but Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine would not think of such a thing
as allowing them to eat in idleness the bread of the Dusantes. After
they had been with us a few days, Mrs. Lecks told me that she thought
she could show the coxswain and his mates how to dig and gather the
garden-stuff which was daily needed.
"To be sure," said she, "that work goes ag'in' part of your board, but
fishin' and bringin' in fire-wood don't take up quarter of the time of
them sailors, and so that the garden work is done, I don't suppose it
matters to the Dusantes who does it. And that'll give you more time to
make things pleasant for Miss Ruth, for, as far as I can see, there
isn't a thing for her to do, even if she knows how to do it."
The three mariners were more than willing to do anything desired by Mrs.
Lecks or Mrs. Aleshine, to whom they looked up with great admiration and
respect. The latter was their favorite, not only because she was with
them a great deal during their meals and at other times, but because of
her genial nature and easy sociability. The men were always trying to
lighten her labors, and to do something that would please her.
One of them climbed to the top of what she called a "palm-leaf-fan
tree," and brought therefrom some broad leaves, which he cut and trimmed
and sewed, in true nautical fashion, until he made some fans which were
heavy and clumsy, but, as he said, they would stand half a gale of wind
if she chose to raise it. The coxswain caught or trapped two sea-birds,
and, having clipped their wings, he spent days in endeavoring to tame
them, hoping to induce them, as far as the power in them lay, to take
the place of the barn-yard fowls whose absence Mrs. Aleshine continually
deplored. Every evening the two black-bearded sailors would dance
hornpipes for her, much to her diversion and delight.
"I've often heard," she remarked, "that in these hot cocoanut countries
the tricks of the monkeys was enough to keep everybody on a steady
laugh, but I'm sure sailormen is a great deal better. When you get tired
of their pranks and their tomfooleries you can tell 'em to stop, which
with monkeys you can't."
It was about ten days after the arrival of the missionary's party that,
as I was going to get ready the boat in which Miss Ruth and myself
generally rowed in the cool of the evening, I saw Mrs. Lecks and Mrs.
Aleshine sitting on the beach in the shade of some low-growing trees.
They were evidently waiting for me, and as soon as I appeared Mrs. Lecks
beckoned to me; whereupon I joined them.
"Sit down," said Mrs. Lecks; "there's somethin' I want to talk to you
about. Mrs. Aleshine and me have made up our minds that you ought to be
hurried up a little about poppin' the question to Miss Ruth."
This remark astounded me. "Popping the question!" I exclaimed.
"Yes," continued Mrs. Lecks, "and me and Mrs. Aleshine know very well
that you haven't done it yet, for both of us havin' been through that
sort of thing ourselves, we know the signs of it after it has
happened."
"And we wouldn't say nothin' to hurry you," added Mrs. Aleshine, "if it
wasn't that the groceries, especially the flour, is a-gettin' low. We've
been talkin' to them sailormen, and they're pretty well agreed that
there's no use now in expectin' their captain to send for 'em; for if he
was a-goin' to do it at all, he'd 'a' done it before this. And perhaps
he never got nowhere himself, in which case he couldn't. And they say
the best thing we can all do when the victuals has nearly give out,
provided the Dusantes don't come back in time, is to take what's left,
and all get into their big boat, and row away to that island, which I
don't know just how far it is, that the captain of our ship was goin'
to. There we can stay pretty comfortable till a ship comes along and
takes us off."
"But what has all that to do," I asked, "with Miss Ruth and me?"
"Do?" cried Mrs. Lecks. "It has everythin' to do. When it's all settled
and fixed between you and Miss Ruth, there'll be nothin' to hinder us
from gettin' ready to start when we please."
"But, my dear friends," I said with much earnestness, "I have not the
slightest idea of proposing to Miss Enderton."
"That's just what I said to Mrs. Aleshine," said Mrs. Lecks, "and that's
the reason we let our irons cool, and come out here to talk to you. It's
just like a young man to keep puttin' off that sort of thing, but this
can't be put off."
"That's so!" cried Mrs. Aleshine; "and I'll just let you see how the
matter stands. There is housekeepers who allows a pint of flour a day to
each person, but this is for farm-hands and people who works hard and
eats hearty, and I've found that three quarters of a pint will do very
well, if the dough is kneaded conscientious and made up light, so that
it'll rise well when it's put into the oven. Now I've measured all the
flour that's left, and me and Mrs. Lecks we've calculated that, allowin'
three quarters of a pint of flour a day to each one of us, there's just
eight days more that we can stay here—that is, if the Dusantes don't
come back before that time, which, of course, can't be counted on. So
you can see for yourself, Mr. Craig, there's no time to be lost, even
considerin' that she hasn't to make up anything to be married in."
[Illustration: "THEY WERE EVIDENTLY WAITING FOR ME."]
"No," said Mrs. Lecks; "just for us and three sailors, that wouldn't be
needed."
I looked from one to the other in dumb astonishment. Mrs. Lecks gave me
no time to say anything.
"In common cases," said she, "this might all be put off till we got
somewhere; but it won't do now. Here you are, with everythin' in your
own hands, but just get away from here, and there's an end of that.
She's as pretty a girl as you'll see in a month of Sundays, and if she
leaves here without your gettin' her, there's no knowing who'll snap her
up. When we've got to that island, you may see her once a week, but
maybe you won't. She may go away in one ship, and you in another, and
there may be somebody right there—a missionary, for all I know—who'll
have her before you have a chance to put in a word."
"And that's not the worst of it," said Mrs. Aleshine. "Supposin' them
Dusantes come back before we go. There's no knowin' what that Mr.
Dusante is. He may be a brother of Emily and Lucille. And what sort of a
chance would you have then, I'd like to know, with Miss Ruth right here
in his own house, and he ownin' the rowboat, and everythin'? Or it may
be he's a widower, and that'll be a mighty sight worse, I can tell you."
"No matter whether they're widowers or never been married," said Mrs.
Lecks, "there'll be plenty that'll want her as soon as they see her; and
if it isn't for the girl's own pretty face, it'll be for her father's
money."
"Her father's money!" I exclaimed. "What are you talking of?"
"There's no good tellin' me anything about that," said Mrs. Lecks, very
decidedly. "There never was a man as close-fisted as Mr. Enderton who
hadn't money."
"And you know as well as we do," said Mrs. Aleshine, "that in them
countries where he's been the heathens worship idols of silver and idols
of gold, and when them heathens is converted, don't you suppose the
missionaries get any of that? I expect that Mr. Enderton has converted
thousands of heathens."
At this suggestion I laughed outright. But Mrs. Lecks reproved me.
"Now, Mr. Craig," said she, "this is no laughin' matter. What me and
Mrs. Aleshine is sayin' is for your good, and for the good of Miss Ruth
along with you. I haven't much opinion of her father, but his money is
as good as anybody else's, and though they had to leave their trunks on
board their ship, what little they brought with them shows that they've
been used to havin' the best there is. Mrs. Aleshine and me has set up
till late into the night talkin' over this thing, and we are both of one
mind that you two need never expect to have the same chance again that
you've got now. The very fact that the old gentleman is a preacher, and
can marry you on the spot, ought to make you tremble when you think of
the risks you are runnin' by puttin' it off."
"I've got to go into the house now to see about supper," said Mrs.
Aleshine, rising, "and I hope you'll remember, Mr. Craig, when your
bread is on your plate, and Miss Ruth is sittin' opposite to you, that
three quarters of a pint of flour a day is about as little as anybody
can live on, and that time is flyin'."
Mrs. Lecks now also rose. But I detained the two for a moment.
"I hope you have not said anything to Miss Enderton on this subject," I
said.
"No," replied Mrs. Aleshine, "we haven't. We are both agreed that as
you're the one that's to do what's to be done, you are the one that's to
be spoke to. And havin' been through it ourselves, we understand well
enough that the more a woman don't know nothin' about it, the more
likely she is to be ketched if she wants to be."
The two women left me in an amused but also somewhat annoyed state of
mind. I had no intention whatever of proposing to Miss Ruth Enderton.
She was a charming girl, very bright and lively, and withal, I had
reason to believe, very sensible. But it was not yet a fortnight since I
first saw her, and no thought of marrying her had entered into my head.
Had Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine, or, more important than all, had Miss
Enderton, any reason to believe that I was acting the part of a lover?
The latter portion of this question was almost immediately answered to
my satisfaction by the appearance of Miss Ruth, who came skipping down
to me and calling out to me in that free and hearty manner with which a
woman addresses a friend or near acquaintance, but never a suspected
lover. She betrayed no more notion of the Lecks and Aleshine scheme than
on the day I first met her.
But, as I was rowing her over the lagoon, I felt a certain constraint
which I had not known before. There was no ground whatever for the wild
imaginings of the two women, but the fact that they had imagined
interfered very much with the careless freedom with which I had
previously talked to Miss Ruth. I do not think, however, that she
noticed any change in me, for she chatted and laughed, and showed, as
she had done from the first, the rare delight which she took in this
novel island life.
When we returned to the house, we were met by Mrs. Aleshine. "I am goin'
to give you two your supper," she said, "on that table there under the
tree. We all had ours a little earlier than common, as the sailormen
seemed hungry; and I took your father's to him in the libr'ry, where I
expect he's a-sittin' yet, holdin' a book in one hand and stirrin' his
tea with the other, till he's stirred out nearly every drop on the
floor; which, however, won't matter at all, for in the mornin' I'll rub
up that floor till it's as bright as new."
This plan delighted Miss Ruth, but I saw in it the beginning of the
workings of a deep-laid scheme. I was just about to sit down when Mrs.
Aleshine said to me in a low voice, as she left us:
"Remember that the first three quarters of a pint apiece begins now!"
"Don't you think that Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine are perfectly
charming?" said Miss Ruth, as she poured out the tea. "They always seem
to be trying to think of some kind thing to do for other people."
I agreed entirely with Miss Enderton's remark, but I could not help
thinking of the surprise she would feel if she knew of the kind thing
that these two women were trying to do for her.
"Have you taken any steps yet?" asked Mrs. Lecks of me, the next day. On
my replying that I had taken no steps of the kind to which I supposed
she alluded, she walked away with a very grave and serious face.
A few hours later Mrs. Aleshine came to me. "There's another reason for
hurryin' up," said she. "Them sailormen seems able to do without 'most
anything in this world except tobacco, and Mrs. Lecks has been sellin'
it to 'em out of a big box she found in a closet up-stairs, at five
cents a teacupful,—which I think is awful cheap, but she says prices in
islands is always low,—and wrapping the money up in a paper, with 'Cash
paid by sailormen for tobacco' written on it, and puttin' it into the
ginger-jar with the board money. But their dollar and forty-three cents
is nearly gone, and Mrs. Lecks she says that not a whiff of Mr.
Dusante's tobacco shall they have if they can't pay for it. And when
they have nothin' to smoke they'll be wantin' to leave this island just
as quick as they can, without waitin' for the flour to give out."
Here was another pressure brought to bear upon me. Not only the waning
flour, but the rapidly disappearing tobacco money was used as a weapon
to urge me forward to the love-making which Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine
had set their hearts upon.
I was in no hurry to leave the island, and hoped very much that when we
did go we should depart in some craft more comfortable than a ship's
boat. In order, therefore, to prevent any undue desire to leave on the
part of the sailors, I gave them money enough to buy a good many teacups
full of tobacco. By this act I think I wounded the feelings of Mrs.
Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine, although I had no idea that such would be the
effect of my little gift. They said nothing to me on the subject, but
their looks and manners indicated that they thought I had not been
acting honorably. For two days they had very little to say to me, and
then Mrs. Aleshine came to me to make what, I suppose, was their supreme
effort.
"Mrs. Lecks and me is a-goin' to try," she said,—and as she spoke she
looked at me with a very sad expression and a watery appearance about
the eyes,—"to stretch out the time for you a little longer. We are
goin' to make them sailormen eat more fish; and as for me and her, we'll
go pretty much without bread, and make it up, as well as we can, on
other things. You and Miss Ruth and the parson can each have your three
quarters of a pint of flour a day, just the same as ever, and what we
save ought to give you three or four days longer."
This speech moved me deeply. I could not allow these two kind-hearted
women to half starve themselves in order that I might have more time to
woo, and I spoke very earnestly on the subject to Mrs. Aleshine, urging
her to give up the fanciful plans which she and Mrs. Lecks had
concocted.
"Let us drop this idea of love-making," I said, "which is the wildest
kind of vagary, and all live happily together, as we did before. If the
provisions give out before the Dusantes come back, I suppose we shall
have to leave in the boat; but, until that time comes, let us enjoy life
here as much as we can, and be the good friends that we used to be."
I might as well have talked to one of the palm-trees which waved over
us.
"As I said before," remarked Mrs. Aleshine, "what is saved from Mrs.
Lecks's and mine and the three sailormen's three quarters of a pint
apiece ought to give you four days more." And she went into the house.
All this time the Reverend Mr. Enderton had sat and read in the library,
or meditatively had walked the beach with a book in his hand; while the
three mariners had caught fish, performed their other work, and lain in
the shade, smoking their pipes in peace. Miss Ruth and I had taken our
daily rows and walks, and had enjoyed our usual hours of pleasant
converse, and all the members of the little colony seemed happy and
contented except Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine. These two went gravely
and sadly about their work, and the latter asked no more for the
hornpipes and the sea-songs of her sailormen.
But, for some unaccountable reason, Mr. Enderton's condition of tranquil
abstraction did not continue. He began to be fretful and discontented.
He found fault with his food and his accommodations, and instead of
spending the greater part of the day in the library, as had been his
wont, he took to wandering about the island, generally with two or three
books under his arm, sometimes sitting down in one place, and sometimes
in another, and then rising suddenly to go grumbling into the house.
One afternoon, as Miss Ruth and I were in the skiff in the lagoon, we
saw Mr. Enderton approaching us, walking on the beach. As soon as he was
near enough for us to hear him, he shouted to his daughter:
"Ruth, come out of that boat! If you want to take the air, I should
think you might as well walk with me as to go rowing round with—with
anybody."
This rude and heartless speech made my blood boil, while my companion
turned pale with mortification. The man had never made the slightest
objection to our friendly intercourse, and this unexpected attack was
entirely indefensible.
"Please put me ashore," said Miss Ruth, and without a word, for I could
not trust myself to speak, I landed her; and, petulantly complaining
that she never gave him one moment of her society, her father led her
away.
[Illustration: "SMOKING THEIR PIPES IN PEACE."]
An hour later, my soul still in a state of turmoil, but with the
violence of its tossings somewhat abated, I entered one of the paths
which led through the woods. After a few turns, I reached a point where
I could see for quite a long distance to the other end of the path,
which opened out upon the beach. There I perceived Mr. Enderton sitting
upon the little bench on which I had found Emily's book. His back was
toward me, and he seemed to be busily reading. About midway between him
and myself I saw Miss Ruth slowly walking toward me. Her eyes were fixed
upon the ground, and she had not seen me.
Stepping to one side, I awaited her approach. When she came near I
accosted her.
"Miss Ruth," said I, "has your father been talking to you of me?"
She looked up quickly, evidently surprised at my being there. "Yes," she
said, "he has told me that it is not—suitable that I should be with you
as much as I have been since we came here."
There was something in this remark that roused again the turmoil which
had begun to subside within me. There was so much that was unjust and
tyrannical, and—what perhaps touched me still deeper—there was such a
want of consideration and respect in this behavior of Mr. Enderton's,
that it brought to the front some very incongruous emotions. I had been
superciliously pushed aside, and I found I was angry. Something was
about to be torn from me, and I found I loved it.
"Ruth," said I, stepping up close to her, "do you like to be with me as
you have been?"
If Miss Ruth had not spent such a large portion of her life in the
out-of-the-world village of Nanfouchong, if she had not lived among
those simple-hearted missionaries, where it was never necessary to
conceal her emotions or her sentiments, if it had not been that she
never had had emotions or sentiments that it was necessary to conceal, I
do not believe that when she answered me she would have raised her eyes
to me with a look in them of a deep-blue sky seen through a sort of
Indian-summer mist, and that, gazing thus, she would have said:
"Of course I like it."
"Then let us make it suitable," I said, taking both her hands in mine.
There was another look, in which the skies shone clear and bright, and
then, in a moment, it was all done.
About five minutes after this I said to her, "Ruth, shall we go to your
father?"
"Certainly," she answered. And together we walked along the thickly
shaded path.
The missionary still sat with his back toward us, and, being so intent
upon his book, I found that by keeping my eyes upon him it was perfectly
safe to walk with my arm around Ruth until we had nearly reached him.
Then I took her hand in mine, and we stepped in front of him.
"Father," said Ruth, "Mr. Craig and I are going to be married."
There was something very plump about this remark, and Mr. Enderton
immediately raised his eyes from his book and fixed them first upon his
daughter and then upon me; then he let them drop, and through the narrow
space between us he gazed out over the sea.
"Well, father," said Ruth, a little impatiently, "what do you think of
it?"
Mr. Enderton leaned forward and picked up a leaf from the ground. This
he placed between the open pages of his book, and closed it.
"It seems to me," he said, "that on many accounts the arrangement you
propose may be an excellent one. Yes," he added more decidedly; "I think
it will do very well indeed. I shall not be at all surprised if we are
obliged to remain on this island for a considerable time, and, for my
part, I have no desire to leave it at present. And when you shall place
yourself, Ruth, in a position in which you will direct the domestic
economies of the establishment, I hope that you will see to it that
things generally are made more compatible with comfort and gentility,
and, as regards the table, I may add with palatability."
[Illustration: "IT WAS PERFECTLY SAFE."]
Ruth and I looked at each other, and then together we promised that as
far as in us lay we would try to make the life of Mr. Enderton a happy
one, not only while we were on the island, but ever afterward.
We were promising a great deal, but at that moment we felt very
grateful.
Then he stood up, shook us both by the hands, and we left him to his
book.
When Ruth and I came walking out of the woods and approached the house,
Mrs. Aleshine was standing outside, not far from the kitchen. When she
saw us she gazed steadily at us for a few moments, a strange expression
coming over her face. Then she threw up both her hands, and without a
word she turned and rushed indoors.
We had not reached the house before Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine came
hurrying out together. Running up to us with a haste and an excitement I
had never seen in either of them, first one and then the other took Ruth
into her arms and kissed her with much earnestness. Then they turned
upon me and shook my hands with hearty vigor, expressing, more by their
looks and actions than their words, a triumphant approbation of what I
had done.
"The minute I laid eyes on you," said Mrs. Aleshine, "I knowed it was
all right. There wasn't no need of askin' questions."
I now became fearful lest, in the exuberance of their satisfaction,
these good women might reveal to Ruth the plans they had laid for our
matrimonial future, and the reluctance I had shown in entering into
them. My countenance must have expressed my apprehensions, for Mrs.
Aleshine, her ruddy face glowing with warmth, both mental and physical,
gave me a little wink, and drew me to one side.
"You needn't suppose that we've ever said anything to Miss Ruth, or that
we're goin' to. It's a great deal better to let her think you did it all
yourself."
I felt like resenting this imputation upon the independence of my
love-making, but at this happy moment I did not want to enter into a
discussion, and therefore merely smiled.
"I'm so glad, I don't know how to tell it," continued Mrs. Aleshine, as
Mrs. Lecks and Ruth walked toward the house.
I was about to follow, but my companion detained me.
"Have you spoke to the parson?" she asked.
"Oh, yes," said I, "and he seems perfectly satisfied. I am rather
surprised at this, because of late he has been in such a remarkably bad
humor."
"That's so," said Mrs. Aleshine; "there's no gettin' round the fact that
he's been a good deal crosser than two sticks. You see, Mr. Craig, that
Mrs. Lecks and me we made up our minds that it wasn't fair to the
Dusantes to let that rich missionary go on payin' nothin' but four
dollars a week apiece for him and his daughter, and if we couldn't get
no more out of him one way, we'd do it another. It was fair enough that
if he didn't pay more he ought to get less; and so we gave him more fish
and not so much bread, the same as we did the sailormen; and we weakened
his tea, and sent him just so much sugar, and no more; and as for
openin' boxes of sardines for him, which there was no reason why they
shouldn't be left here for the Dusantes, I just wouldn't do it, though
he said he'd got all the fresh fish he wanted when he was in China. And
then we agreed that it was high time that that libr'ry should be cleaned
up, and we went to work at it, not mindin' what he said; for it's no use
tellin' me that four dollars a week will pay for a front room and good
board, and the use of a libr'ry all day. And as there wasn't no need of
both of us cleanin' one room, Mrs. Lecks she went into the parlor,
where he'd took his books, and begun there. And then, again, we shut
down on Mr. Dusante's dressing-gown. There was no sense includin' the
use of that in his four dollars a week, so we brushed it up, and
camphored it, and put it away. We just wanted to let him know that if he
undertook to be skinflinty, he'd better try it on somebody else besides
us. We could see that he was a good deal upset, for if ever a man liked
to have things quiet and comfortable around him, and everything his own
way, that man is that missionary. But we didn't care if we did prod him
up a little. Mrs. Lecks and me we both agreed that it would do him good.
Why, he'd got into such a way of shettin' himself up in himself that he
didn't even see that his daughter was goin' about with a young man, and
fixin' her affections on him more and more every day, when he never had
no idea, as could be proved by witnesses, of marryin' her."
[Illustration: "'I KNOWED IT WAS ALL RIGHT.'"]
"Mrs. Aleshine," said I, looking at her very steadfastly, "I believe,
after all, that you and Mrs. Lecks had your own way in regard to
hurrying up this matter."
"Yes," said she, with happy complacency; "I shouldn't wonder if we had.
Stirrin' up the parson was our last chance, and it wasn't much trouble
to do it."
Mrs. Lecks, whose manner toward me for the last few days had been
characterized by cold severity, now resumed her former friendly
demeanor, although she was not willing to let the affair pass over
without some words of reproach.
"I must say, Mr. Craig," she remarked the next morning, "that I was
gettin' pretty well outdone with you. I was beginnin' to think that a
young man that couldn't see and wouldn't see what was good for him
didn't deserve to have it; and if Miss Ruth's father had just come down
with a heavy foot and put an end to the whole business, I'm not sure I'd
been sorry for you. But it's all right at last, and bygones is bygones.
And now, what we've got to do is to get ready for the weddin'."
"The wedding!" I exclaimed.
Mrs. Lecks regarded me with an expression in which there was something
of virtuous indignation and something of pity. "Mr. Craig," said she,
"if there ever was anybody that wanted a guardeen, it's you. Now, just
let me tell you this. That Mr. Enderton ain't to be trusted no further
than you can see him, and not so fur, neither, if it can be helped. He's
willin' for you to have Miss Ruth now, because he's pretty much made up
his mind that we're goin' to stay here, and as he considers you the
master of this island, of course he thinks it'll be for his good for his
daughter to be mistress of it. For one thing, he wouldn't expect to pay
no board then. But just let him get away from this island, and just let
him set his eyes on some smooth-faced young fellow that'll agree to take
him into the concern and keep him for nothin' on books and tea, he'll
just throw you over without winkin'. And Miss Ruth is not the girl to
marry you against his will, if he opens the Bible and piles texts on
her, which he is capable of doin'. If in any way you two should get
separated when you leave here, there's no knowin' when you'd ever see
each other again, for where he'll take her nobody can tell. He's more
willin' to set down and stay where he finds himself comfortable than
anybody I've met yet."
"Of course," I said, "I'm ready to be married at any moment; but I don't
believe Miss Ruth and her father would consent to anything so speedy."
"Don't you get into the way," said Mrs. Lecks, "of beforehand believin'
this or that. It don't pay. Just you go to her father and talk to him
about it, and if you and him agree, it'll be easy enough to make her
see the sense of it. You attend to them, and I'll see that everythin' is
got ready. And you'd better fix the day for to-morrow, for we can't stay
here much longer, and there's a lot of house-cleanin' and bakin' and
cookin' to be done before we go."
I took this advice, and broached the subject to Mr. Enderton.
"Well, sir," said he, laying down his book, "your proposition is
decidedly odd; I may say, very odd, indeed. But it is, perhaps, after
all, no odder than many things I have seen. Among the various
denominational sects I have noticed occurrences quite as odd; quite as
odd, sir. For my part, I have no desire to object to an early
celebration of the matrimonial rites. I may say, indeed, that I am of
the opinion that a certain amount of celerity in this matter will
conduce to the comfort of all concerned. It has been a very
unsatisfactory thing to me to see my daughter occupying a subordinate
position in our little family, where she has not even the power to turn
household affairs into the channels of my comfort. To-morrow, I think,
will do very well indeed. Even if it should rain, I see no reason why
the ceremony should be postponed."
The proposition of a wedding on the morrow was not received by Ruth with
favor. She was unprepared for such precipitancy. But she finally yielded
to arguments; not so much to mine, I fear, as to those offered by Mrs.
Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine.
For the rest of that day the three mariners were kept very busy,
bringing in green things to deck the parlor, and doing every imaginable
kind of work necessary to a wedding which Mrs. Aleshine was willing to
give into their hands. As for herself and her good friend, they put
themselves upon their mettle as providers of festivals. They made cakes,
pies, and I never knew half so well as the three sailors how many other
kinds of good things. Besides all this, they assisted Ruth to array
herself in some degree in a manner becoming a bride. Some light and
pretty adornments of dress were borrowed from Emily or Lucille, they
knew not which, and, after having been "done up" and fluted and crimped
by Mrs. Lecks, were incorporated by Ruth into her costume with so much
taste that on the wedding morning she appeared to me to be dressed more
charmingly than any bride I had ever seen.
The three sailors had done their own washing and ironing, and appeared
in cleanly garb, and with hair and beards well wet and brushed. Mrs.
Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine put on their best bibs and tuckers, and Mr.
Enderton assumed his most clerical air as he stood behind a table in the
parlor and married Ruth and me.
"This," said Mr. Enderton, as we were seated at the wedding-feast, "is a
most creditable display of attractive viands, but I may say, my dear
Ruth, that I think I perceived the influence of the happy event of
to-day even before it took place. I have lately had a better appetite
for my food, and have experienced a greater enjoyment of my
surroundings."
"I should think so," murmured Mrs. Aleshine in my ear, "for we'd no
sooner knowed that you two were to make a match of it than we put an
extry spoonful of tea into his pot, and stopped scrubbin' the libr'ry."
For the next two days all was bustle and work on the island. Mrs. Lecks
and Mrs. Aleshine would not consent to depart without leaving everything
in the best possible order, so that the Dusantes might not be
dissatisfied with the condition of their house when they returned. It
was, in fact, the evident desire of the two women to gratify their pride
in their house-wifely abilities by leaving everything better than they
found it.
Mr. Enderton was much surprised at these preparations for immediate
departure. He was very well satisfied with his life on the island, and
had prepared his mind for an indefinite continuance of it, with the
position of that annoying and obdurate Mrs. Lecks filled by a compliant
and affectionate daughter. He had no reasonable cause for complaint, for
the whole subject of the exhaustion of our supply of provisions, and the
necessity of an open-boat trip to an inhabited island, had been fully
discussed before him; but he was so entirely engrossed in the
consideration of his own well-being that this discussion of our plans
had made no impression upon him. He now became convinced that a
conspiracy had been entered into against him, and fell into an
unpleasant humor. This, however, produced very little effect upon any of
us, for we were all too busy to notice his whims. But his sudden change
of disposition made me understand how correct were the opinions of Mrs.
Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine concerning him. If I had left that island
with my marriage with Ruth depending upon Mr. Enderton's coöperation, my
prospects of future happiness would have been at the mercy of his
caprices.
[Illustration: "THEY ASSISTED RUTH TO ARRAY HERSELF."]
Very early on a beautiful morning Ruth and I started out on our wedding
journey in the long-boat. Mr. Enderton was made as comfortable as
possible in the stern, with Ruth near him. Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine
sat facing each other, each with a brown-paper package by her side,
containing the life-preserver on which she had arrived. These were to be
ever cherished as memorials of a wonderful experience. The three sailors
and I took turns at the oars. The sea was smooth, and there was every
reason to believe that we should arrive at our destination before the
end of the day. Mrs. Aleshine had supplied us with an abundance of
provisions, and, with the exception of Mr. Enderton, who had not been
permitted to take away any of the Dusante books, we were a contented
party.
"As long as the flour held out," remarked Mrs. Aleshine, "I'd never been
willin' to leave that island till the Dusantes came back, and we could
have took Emily or Lucille, whichever it was that kept house, and showed
her everythin', and told her just what we had done. But when they do
come back," she added, "and read that letter which Mr. Craig wrote and
left for them, and find out all that happened in their country-place
while they was away; and how two of us was made happy for life; and how
two more of us, meanin' Mrs. Lecks and me, have give up goin' to Japan,
intendin', instid of that, writin' to my son to come home to America and
settle down in the country he ought to live in,—why, then, if them
Dusantes ain't satisfied, it's no use for anybody to ever try to satisfy
'em."
"I should think not," said Mrs. Lecks, "with the weddin'-cards on the
parlor table, not a speck of dust in any corner, and the board money in
the ginger-jar."
[Illustration]