It was on a wet, dreary, dismal afternoon, toward the end of October
18--, that I found myself _en route_ for Gravesend, to join the clipper
ship _City of Cawnpore_, in the capacity of cuddy passenger, bound for
Calcutta.
The wind was blowing strong from the south-east, and came sweeping
along, charged with frequent heavy rain squalls that dashed fiercely
against the carriage windows, while the atmosphere was a mere dingy,
brownish grey expanse of shapeless vapour, so all-pervading that it shut
out not only the entire firmament but also a very considerable portion
of the landscape.
There had been a time, not so very long ago--while I was hunting slavers
on the West Coast, grilling under a scorching African sun day after day
and month after month, with pitiless monotony--when the mere
recollection of such weather as this had made me long for a taste of it
as a priceless luxury; but now, after some five months' experience of
the execrable British climate, I folded my cloak more closely about me,
as I gazed through the carriage windows at the rain-blurred landscape,
and blessed the physician who was sending me southward in search of
warmth and sunshine and the strong salt breeze once more.
For it was in pursuit of renewed health and strength that I was about to
undertake the voyage; a spell of over two years of hard, uninterrupted
service upon the Coast--during which a more than average allowance of
wounds and fever had fallen to my share--had compelled me to invalid
home; and now, with my wounds healed, the fever banished from my system,
and in possession of a snug little, recently-acquired competence that
rendered it unnecessary for me to follow the sea as a profession, I--
Charles Conyers, R.N., aged twenty-seven--was, by the fiat of my medical
adviser, about to seek, on the broad ocean, that life-giving tonic which
is unobtainable elsewhere, and which was all that I now needed to
entirely reinvigorate my constitution and complete my restoration to
perfect health.
Upon my arrival at Gravesend I was glad to find that the rain had
ceased, for the moment, although the sky still looked full of it. I
therefore lost no time in making my way down to the river, where I
forthwith engaged a waterman to convey me, and the few light articles I
had brought with me, off to the ship.
The _City of Cawnpore_ was a brand-new iron ship, of some twelve hundred
tons register, modelled like a frigate, full-rigged, and as handsome a
craft in every respect as I had ever seen. I had seen her before, of
course, in the Docks, when I had gone down to inspect her and choose my
cabin; but she was then less than half loaded; her decks were dirty and
lumbered up with bales and cases of cargo; her jib-booms were rigged in,
and her topgallant-masts down on deck; and altogether she was looking
her worst; while now, lying well out toward the middle of the stream as
she was, she looked a perfect picture, as she lay with her bows pointing
down-stream, straining lightly at her cable upon the last of the
flood-tide, loaded down just sufficiently, as it seemed, to put her into
perfect sailing trim, her black hull with its painted ports showing up
in strong contrast to the peasoup-coloured flood upon which she rode,
her lofty masts stayed to a hair, and all accurately parallel, gleaming
like ruddy gold against the dingy murk of the wild-looking sky. Her
yards were all squared with the nicest precision, and the new
cream-white canvas snugly furled upon them and the booms; the red ensign
streamed from the gaff-end; and the burgee, or house flag--a red star in
a white diamond upon a blue field--cut with a swallow tail in the
present instance to indicate that her skipper was the commodore of the
fleet--fluttered at the main-royal-masthead.
"She's a pretty ship, sir; a very pretty ship; as handsome a vessel as
I've ever see'd a lyin' off this here town," remarked the waterman who
was pulling me off to her, noting perhaps the admiration in my gaze.
"And she's a good staunch ship, too; well built, well found, and well
manned--the owners of them `red star' liners won't have nothin' less
than the very best of everything in their ships and aboard of 'em--and I
hopes your honour'll have a very pleasant voyage, I'm sure. You ought
to, for there's some uncommon nice people goin' out in her; I took three
of 'em off myself in this here very same boat 'bout a hour ago. And one
of 'em--ah, she _is_ a beauty, she is, and no mistake! handsome as a
hangel; and such eyes--why, sir, they're that bright and they sparkles
to that extent that you won't want no stars not so long as she's on
deck."
"Indeed," answered I, with languid interest, yet glad nevertheless to
learn that there was to be at least one individual of agreeable
personality on board. Then, as we drew up toward the accommodation
ladder, I continued: "Back your starboard oar; pull port; way enough!
Lay in your oars and look out for the line that they are about to heave
to you!"
"Ay, ay, sir," answered the fellow, as he proceeded with slow
deliberation but a great show of alacrity to obey my injunctions. "Dash
my buttons," he continued, "if I didn't think as you'd seen a ship afore
to-day, and knowed the stem from the starn of her. Says I to myself,
when I seen the way that you took hold of them yoke-lines, and the
knowin' cock of your heye as you runned it over this here vessel's hull
and spars and her riggin'--`this here gent as I've a got hold of is a
sailor, he is, and as sich he'll know what a hard life of it we pore
watermen has; and I shouldn't wonder but what--knowin' the hardness of
the life--he'll'--thank'ee, sir; I wishes you a wery pleasant voyage,
with all my 'eart, sir. Take hold, steward; these is all the things the
gent has brought along of 'im."
I was received at the gangway by a fine sailorly-looking man, some
thirty-five years of age, and of about middle height, sturdily built,
and with a frank, alert, pleasant expression of face, who introduced
himself to me as the chief mate--Murgatroyd by name--following up his
self-introduction with the information that Captain Dacre had not yet
come down from town, but might be expected on board in time for dinner.
It was just beginning to rain rather sharply again, or I should have
been disposed to remain on deck for a while and improve my acquaintance
with this genial-looking sailor; as it was, I merely paused beside him
long enough to note that the deck between the foremast and the mainmast
seemed to be crowded with rough, round-backed, awkward-looking men,
having the appearance of navvies or something of that kind; also that
the main hatch was partially closed by a grating through an aperture in
which, at the after port angle of the hatchway, other men of a like sort
were passing up and down by means of a ladder. The mate caught my
inquiring glance as it wandered over the rough-looking crowd, and
replied to it by remarking:
"Miners, and such-like--a hundred and twenty of 'em--going out to
develop a new mine somewhere up among the Himalayas, so I'm told.
Rather a tough lot, by the look of 'em, Mr Conyers; but I'll take care
that they don't annoy the cuddy passengers; and they'll soon shake down
when once we're at sea."
"No doubt," I replied. "Poor fellows! they appear to be indifferent
enough to the idea of leaving their native land; but how many of them, I
wonder, will live to return to it. Steward," I continued, as I turned
away to follow the man who was carrying my hand baggage below for me,
"is there anyone in the same cabin with me?"
"No, sir; you've got it all to yourself, sir," was the reply. "There
was a young gent," he continued--"one of a family of six as was goin'
out with us--who was to have been put in along with you, sir; but the
father have been took suddenly ill, so they're none of 'em going.
Consequence is that we've only got thirty cuddy passengers aboard,
instead of thirty-six, which is our full complement. Your trunks is
under the bottom berth, sir, and I've unstrapped 'em. Anything more I
can do for you, sir?"
I replied in the negative, thanking the man for his attention; and then,
as he closed the cabin-door behind him, I seated myself upon a sofa and
looked round at the snug and roomy apartment which, if all went well, I
was to occupy during the voyage of the ship to India and back.
The room was some ten feet long, by eight feet wide, and seven feet high
to the underside of the beams. It was set athwartships, instead of fore
and aft as was at that period more frequently the fashion; and it was
furnished with two bunks, or beds, one over the other, built against the
bulkhead that divided the cabin from that next it. The lower bunk was
"made up" with bed, bedding, and pillows complete, ready for occupation;
but the upper bunk, not being required, had been denuded of its bedding,
leaving only the open framework of the bottom, which was folded back and
secured against the bulkhead, out of the way, thus leaving plenty of air
space above me when I should be turned in. At the foot of the bunks
there was a nice deep, double chest of drawers, surmounted by an
ornamental rack-work arrangement containing a brace of water-bottles,
with tumblers to match, together with vacant spaces for the reception of
such matters as brushes and combs, razor-cases, and other odds and ends.
Then there was a wash-stand, with a toilet-glass above it, and a
cupboard beneath the basin containing two large metal ewers of fresh
water; and alongside the wash-stand hung a couple of large, soft towels.
There was a fine big bull's eye in the deck overhead, and a circular
port in the ship's side, big enough for me to have crept through with
some effort, had I so wished, the copper frame of which was glazed with
plate glass a full inch thick. Beneath this port was the short sofa,
upholstered in black horsehair, upon which I sat; and, screwed to the
ship's side in such a position as to be well out of the way, yet capable
of pretty completely illuminating the cabin, was a handsome little
silver-plated lamp, already lighted, hung in gimbals and surmounted by a
frosted glass globe very prettily chased with a pattern of flowers and
leaves and birds. The bulkheads were painted a dainty cream colour,
with gilt mouldings; a heavy curtain of rich material screened the door;
and the deck of the cabin was covered with a thick, handsome carpet.
"What a contrast," thought I, "to my miserable, stuffy little dog-hole
of a cabin aboard the old _Hebe_!" And I sat there so long, meditating
upon the times that were gone, and the scenes of the past, that I lost
all consciousness of my surroundings, and was only awakened from my
brown study--or was it a quiet little nap?--by the loud clanging of the
first dinner bell. Thus admonished, I went to work with a will to get
into my dress clothes--for those were the days when such garments were
_de rigueur_ aboard all liners of any pretensions--and was quite ready
to make my way to the saloon when the second and final summons to dinner
pealed forth.
The cuddy, or main saloon of the ship, was on deck, under the full poop,
while the sleeping accommodation was below; consequently by the time
that I had reached the vestibule upon which the cuddy doors opened, I
found myself in the midst of quite a little crowd of more or less
well-dressed people who were jostling each other in a gentle, well-bred
sort of way in their eagerness to get into the saloon. They were mostly
silent, as is the way of the English among strangers, but a few, here
and there, who seemed to have already made each other's acquaintance,
passed the usual inane remarks about the absurdly inconvenient
arrangements generally of the ship. Some half a dozen stewards were
showing the passengers to their places at table, as they passed in
through the doorways; and upon my entrance I was at once pounced upon by
one of the aforesaid stewards, who, in semi-confidential tones,
remarked:
"This way, if you please, sir. It's Cap'n Dacre's orders that you was
to be seated close alongside of him."
As I followed the man down the length of the roomy, handsome apartment,
I could scarcely realise that it was the same that I had seen when the
ship lay loading in the dock. Then, the deck (or floor, as a landsman
would call it) was carpetless, the tables, chairs, sofas, lamps, and
walls of the cabin were draped in brown holland, to protect them from
the all-penetrating dust and dirt that is always flying about, more or
less, during the handling of cargo, and the room was lighted only by the
skylights; now, I found myself in a scene as brilliant, after its own
fashion, as that afforded by the dining-room of a first-class hotel.
The saloon was of the full width of the ship, and some forty feet long
by about eight feet high; the sides and the ceiling were panelled, and
painted in cream, light blue, and gold; and it was furnished with three
tables--one on either side of the cabin, running fore-and-aft, with a
good wide gangway between, and one athwartships and abaft the other two,
with seats on the after side of it only, so that no one was called upon
to turn his or her back upon those sitting at the other two tables. The
tables were gleaming with snow-white napery, crystal, and silver; and
were further adorned with handsome flowering plants in painted china
bowls, placed at frequent intervals; the deck was covered with a carpet
in which one's feet sank ankle deep; the sofas were upholstered in
stamped purple velvet; and the whole scene was illuminated by the soft
yet brilliant light of three clusters of three lamps each suspended over
the centres of the several tables. Abaft the aftermost table I caught a
glimpse of a piano, open, with some sheets of music upon it, as though
someone had already been trying the tone of the instrument.
Conducted by the steward, I presently found myself installed in a chair,
between two ladies, one of whom was seated alongside the skipper, on his
right. This lady was young--apparently about twenty-one or twenty-two
years of age, above medium height--if one could form a correct judgment
of her stature as she sat at the table--a rich and brilliant brunette,
crowned with a wealth of most beautiful and luxuriant golden-chestnut
hair, and altogether the most perfectly lovely creature that I had ever
beheld. I felt certain, the moment my eyes rested upon her, that she
must certainly be the subject of my friend the waterman's enthusiastic
eulogies. The other lady--she who occupied the seat on my right--was
stout, elderly, grey-haired, and very richly attired in brocade and
lace, with a profusion of jewellery about her. She was also
loud-voiced, for as I passed behind her toward my seat she shouted to
the elderly, military-looking man on her right:
"Now, Pat, don't ye attempt to argue wid me; I shall be ill to-morrow,
no matther what I ait, or don't ait; so I shall take a good dinner and
injoy mesilf while I can!"
Captain Dacre--a very fine-looking, handsome, whitehaired man, attired
in a fairly close imitation of a naval captain's uniform, and looking a
thorough sailor all over--was already seated; but upon seeing me he
rose, stretched out his hand, and remarked:
"Lieutenant Conyers, I presume? Welcome, sir, aboard the _City of
Cawnpore_; and I hope that when next you see Gravesend you will have
fully recovered the health and strength you are going to sea to look
for. It is not often, Mr Conyers, that I have a brother sailor upon my
passenger list, so when I am so fortunate I make the most of him by
providing him--as in your case--with a berth at the table as nearly
alongside me as possible. Allow me to make you known to your
neighbours. Miss Onslow, permit me to introduce Lieutenant Conyers of
our Royal Navy. Lady O'Brien--General Sir Patrick O'Brien--Lieutenant
Conyers."
Miss Onslow--the beauty on my left--acknowledged the introduction with a
very queenly and distant bow; Lady O'Brien looked me keenly in the eyes
for an instant, and then shook hands with me very heartily; and the
general murmured something about being glad to make my acquaintance, and
forthwith addressed himself with avidity to the plate of soup which one
of the stewards placed before him.
Presently, having finished his soup, the general leaned forward and
stared hard at me for a moment. Then he remarked:
"Excuse me, Conyers--it is no use being formal, when we are about to be
cooped up together on board ship for the next two months, is it?--are
you the man that got so shockingly hacked about at the capture of that
piratical slaver, the--the--hang it all, I've forgotten her name now?"
"If you refer to the _Preciosa_, I must plead guilty to the soft
impeachment," answered I.
"Ah!" he exclaimed, "hang me if I didn't think so when I heard your
name, and saw that scar across your forehead. Wonderfully plucky thing
to do, sir; as plucky a thing, I think, as I ever heard of! I must get
you to tell me all about it, some time or another--here, steward, hang
it all, man, this sherry is corked! Bring me another bottle!"
I am rather a shy man, and this sudden identification of me in
connection with an affair that I had already grown heartily tired of
hearing referred to, and that I fondly hoped would now be speedily
forgotten by my friends, was distinctly disconcerting; I therefore
seized upon the opportunity afforded me by the mishap to the general's
sherry to divert the conversation into another channel, by turning to my
lovely left-hand neighbour with the inquiry:
"Is this your first experience of shipboard, Miss Onslow?"
"This will be my third voyage to India, Mr Conyers," she answered, with
an air of surprise at my temerity in addressing her, and such proud,
stately dignity and lofty condescension that I caught myself thinking:
"Hillo, Charley, my lad, what sort of craft is this you are exchanging
salutes with? You will have to take care what you are about with her,
my fine fellow, or you will be finding that some of her guns are
shotted!"
But I was not to be deterred from making an effort to render myself
agreeable, simply because the manner of the young lady was almost
chillingly distant, so I returned:
"Indeed! then you are quite a seasoned traveller. And how does the sea
use you? Does it treat you kindly?"
"If you mean Am I ill at sea? I am glad to say that I am _not_!" she
replied. "I _love_ the sea; but I hate voyaging upon it."
"That sounds somewhat paradoxical, does it not?" I ventured to
insinuate.
"Possibly it does," she admitted. "What I mean is that, while I never
enjoy such perfect health anywhere as I do when at sea, and while I
passionately admire the ever-changing beauty and poetry of the ocean and
sky in their varying moods, I find it distinctly irksome and unpleasant
to be pent up for months within the narrow confines of a ship, with no
possibility of escape from my surroundings however unpleasant they may
be. There is no privacy, and no change on board a ship; one is
compelled to meet the same people day after day, and to be brought into
more or less intimate contact with them, whether one wishes it or not."
"That is undoubtedly true," I acknowledged, "so far, at least, as
meeting the same people day after day is concerned. But surely one need
not necessarily be brought into intimate contact with them, unless so
minded; it is not difficult to make the average person understand that
anything approaching to intimacy is unwelcome."
"Is it not?" she retorted drily. "Then I am afraid that my experience
has been more unfortunate than yours. I have more than once been
obliged to be actually rude to people before. I could succeed in
convincing them that I would prefer not to be on intimate terms with
them."
And therewith Miss Onslow ever so slightly turned herself away from me,
and addressed herself to the contents of her plate with a manner that
seemed indicative of a desire to terminate the conversation.
I thought that I already began to understand this very charming and
interesting young lady. I had not the remotest idea who or what she
was, beyond the bare fact that her name was Onslow, but her style and
her manners--despite her singular hauteur--stamped her unmistakably as
one accustomed to move in a high plane of society; that she was
inordinately proud and intensely exclusive was clear, but I had an idea
that this fault--if such it could be considered--was due rather to
training than to any innate imperfection of character; and I could
conceive that--the barrier of her exclusiveness once passed--she might
prove to be winsome and fascinating beyond the power of words to
express. But I had a suspicion that the man who should be bold enough
to attempt the passage of that barrier would have to face many a rebuff,
as well as the very strong probability of ultimate ignominious,
irretrievable defeat; and as I was then--and still am, for that matter--
a rather sensitive individual, I quickly determined that I at least
would not dare such a fate. Moreover, I seemed to find in the drift of
what she had said--and more particularly in her manner of saying it--a
hint that possibly I might be one of those with whom she would prefer
not to be on terms of intimacy.
"Well," thought I, "if that is her wish, it shall certainly be
gratified; she is a surpassingly beautiful creature, but I can admire
and enjoy the contemplation of her beauty, as I would that of some rare
and exquisite picture, without obtruding myself offensively upon her
attention; and although she has all the appearance of being clever,
refined, and possessed of a brilliant intellect, those qualities will
have no irresistible attraction for me if she intends to hide them
behind a cold, haughty, repellant manner." And therewith I dismissed
her from my mind, and addressed myself to the skipper, "This new ship of
yours is a magnificent craft, Captain," said I. "I fell incontinently
in love with her as the waterman was pulling me off alongside. She is
far and away the most handsome ship I have ever set eyes on."
"Ay," answered Dacre heartily, his whole face kindling with enthusiasm,
"she is a beauty, and no mistake. You have some fine, handsome frigates
in the service, Mr Conyers, but I doubt whether the best of them will
compare with the _City of Cawnpore_ for beauty, speed, or seagoing
qualities. My word, sir, but it would have done you good to have seen
her before she was put into the water. Shapely? shapely is not the word
for it, she is absolutely beautiful! She is to other craft what,"--here
his eye rested upon Miss Onslow's unconscious face for an instant--"a
perfectly lovely woman is to a fat old dowdy. There _is_ only one fault
I have to find with her, and that is only a fault in my eyes; there are
many who regard it as a positive and important merit."
"And pray what may that be?" I inquired. And, as I asked the question,
several of the passengers who had overheard the skipper's remark craned
forward over the table in eager anticipation of his reply.
"Why, sir," answered Dacre, "she is built of iron instead of good,
sound, wholesome heart of oak; that's the fault I find with her. I have
never been shipmates with iron before, and I confess I don't like it.
Of course," he continued--judging, perhaps, from some of the passengers'
looks that he had said something a trifle indiscreet--"it is only
prejudice on my part; I can't explain my objection to iron; everybody
who ought to know anything about the matter declares that iron is
immensely strong compared with wood, and I sincerely believe them;
still, there the feeling is, and I expect it will take me a month or two
to get over it. You see, I have been brought up and have spent upwards
of forty years of my life in wooden ships, and I suppose I am growing a
trifle too old to readily take up newfangled notions."
"Ah, Captain, I have met with men of your sort before," remarked the
general; "you are by no means the first person with a prejudice. But
you'll get over it, my dear fellow; you'll get over it. And when you
have done so you'll acknowledge that there's nothing like iron for
shipbuilding. _Apropos_ of seafaring matters, what sort of a voyage do
you think we shall have?"
The skipper shrugged his shoulders.
"Who can tell?" he answered. "Everything depends upon the weather; and
what is more fickle than that?--outside the limits of the trade-winds
and the monsoons, I mean, of course. If we are unlucky enough to meet
with a long spell of calms on the Line--well, that means a long passage.
But give me as much wind as I can show all plain sail to, and no
farther for'ard than abeam, and I'll undertake to land you all at
Calcutta within sixty days from to-day."
We were still discussing the probability of the skipper being able to
fulfil his promise, when a howling squall swept through the taut rigging
and between the masts of the ship, causing the whole fabric to vibrate
with a barely perceptible tremor, while the swish and patter of heavy
rain resounded upon the glass of the skylights.
"Whew!" ejaculated the general, "what a lively prospect for to-night!
What are we to do after dinner to amuse ourselves; and where are we men
to go for our smoke?"
"I think," said I, "we shall find a very comfortable place for a smoke
under the overhang of the poop. The tide is ebbing strong by this time,
so the ship will be riding more or less stern-on to the wind, and we
shall find a very satisfactory lee and shelter at the spot that I have
named."
"Ay," assented the skipper. "And when you have finished smoking, what
can you wish for better than this fine saloon, in which to play cards,
or read, or even to organise an impromptu concert? There is a capital
piano abaft there; and I am sure that among so distinguished a company
there must be plenty of good musicians."
And so indeed it proved; for when, having finished our smoke, the
general and some half a dozen more of us returned to the cuddy, we found
that several of the younger ladies of the party had already produced
their music, and were doing their best to make the evening pass
pleasantly for themselves and others. Miss Onslow was one of the
exceptions; she had not produced any music, nor, apparently, did she
intend to take anything more than a passive part in the entertainment;
indeed it is going almost too far to say even so much as that, for it
appeared doubtful whether she even condescended so far as to regard
herself as one of the audience; she had provided herself with a book,
and had curled herself up comfortably in the corner most distant from
the piano, and was reading with an air of absorption and interest so
pronounced as really to be almost offensive to the performers. In
almost anyone else the manifestation of so profound an indifference to
the efforts of others to please would have been regarded as an
indication of ill-breeding; but in her case--well, she was so regally
and entrancingly lovely that somehow one felt as though her beauty
justified everything, and that it was an act of condescension and a
favour that she graced the cuddy with her presence at all. And indeed I
was very much disposed to think that this was her own view of the
matter. Be that as it may, we all spent an exceedingly pleasant
evening; and when I turned into my bunk that night I felt very well
satisfied with the prospects of the voyage before me.