CONFIDENCES.
Many landsmen may wonder why vessels bound south go so far to the
westward, instead of making a direct course through the tropics. It is
because the trades are so much stronger on the other side that they
adopt the longer route, in order to make a quicker passage.
For the same reason, the _Pandora_, after skirting the coast of Brazil,
sailed as far south as fifty-two degrees, that is, six hundred miles to
the south of the Cape of Good Hope, where the westerly breezes could be
depended on.
As the ship drew nearer the Antarctic regions, the weather became
colder. The ‘boatswains’ and ‘boobies’ were left astern, and
black-speckled Cape pigeons and snowy albatrosses were to be seen
in their stead. The lively skipjacks, bright-coloured bonitas, and
swift dolphins had all disappeared, but monster whales, that swam
majestically after the vessel, denoting their presence by squirting up
volumes of water through their blowholes, and boisterous porpoises,
that gambolled under the boom, and indulged in clumsy antics, supplied
the deficiency. The sky wore a leaden appearance. The air was
exhilarating, and the wind sharp and keen. No one complained now of
the oppressive heat. The ladies packed away their fans again, and came
on deck in their furs. The sailors no longer ran about in white ducks
and with bare feet, but put on strong Cunarders, pilot trousers, and
sea-boots.
And all hands hailed the change with gladness. The heat at times had
made the passengers both languid and discontented. It was difficult
to rest either by day or night in the hot and stuffy saloon or the
close cabins. But now they felt compelled to be on the move. The
stove was surrounded all day by a flock of petticoats, and at night
the dead lights were firmly screwed up to prevent the chilly air from
penetrating the sleeping berths. On one of these raw evenings few
ventured to show their faces on deck. Some of the ladies were sitting
with the card-players in the smoking-room, a small party was assembled
in Vernon’s berth speculating on _rouge-et-noir_, and two women, seated
in the second cabin, were engaged in earnest conversation. They were
Maggie Greet and Iris Harland. The servant was seated at her mistress’s
feet, with her hands firmly clasped on Iris’s knees as she looked up
into her beautiful face and told her story. It had taken Maggie a long
time to summon up courage to confide the news of her engagement to
Will Farrell to her friend and mistress. For some unaccountable reason,
the girl had felt strangely shy about disclosing her good fortune, and
she might not have confessed it even now, had not something occurred
connected with it, which she felt it incumbent that Iris should
know. But she told the tale with such a burning face, and so many
interruptions, that her hearer could only imagine she was too happy to
be coherent.
‘Oh, my dear,’ Iris exclaimed, when she had at last arrived at a
knowledge of the facts, ‘I _am_ so glad! And you have been engaged
to Mr Farrell for a whole fortnight, and never told me of it? What
a naughty girl! Didn’t you know that I should be the very first to
congratulate you on your good luck? For you _are_ very lucky, you know,
Maggie. Fancy, finding a husband before you even touch land! And such
a good one too! For I am _sure_ Mr Farrell will be good to you, my
dear! He has a true face, and you will be a happy woman! I am very,
_very_ glad.’
And Iris stooped down, and kissed Maggie’s forehead.
‘Oh, don’t do that!’ cried the girl hurriedly. ‘I ain’t worthy of it,
mistress, nor of nothing that’s happened to me neither, and I’ve told
Will as much. Only he’s good enough to overlook all my faults, and say
he’ll take me as I am. And you’ll come and live with us, won’t you, my
pretty? We’ll all go straight up into the bush as soon as ever we land,
and there I’ll work to my life’s end to try and make you comfortable
and happy.’
‘My dear Maggie,’ remonstrated Iris, ‘you forget. Mr Harland is on
board, and I have taken this step to be with him. It is an immense
load off my mind to think you are so happily provided for, for I have
always been fearful lest he should resent your having accompanied me;
but my place is by his side, and as soon as ever we come in sight of
land, I shall walk boldly up to him and declare myself. I hate the
thought of it,’ continued Iris, with the tears in her soft eyes. ‘I
despise him, and I fear him. But it is his business to maintain me, and
my right to demand support from him, and I mean to have it.’
‘But, mistress,’ said Maggie, in an earnest tone, ‘you _mustn’t_ go
with him. It isn’t safe. He is a _bad_ man--ah, much worse than you’ve
ever thought of!--and he’d kill you as soon as look at you if you
happened to be in his way. Don’t think of it any more. He’s made you
miserable all along, and he’ll make you miserable again. Come with Will
and me, and forget all about that brute. And after a while, perhaps,
you’ll meet with some one as will make you _really_ happy, and then
all the past will look like a bad dream to you.’
‘But, Maggie,’ replied Iris, with mild astonishment, ‘you forget that I
am _married_ to him. How can I get free, or have the liberty to think
of another man? Whilst Mr Harland lives, I must bear my burden as best
I can.’
‘I don’t know that,’ said Maggie oracularly. ‘He may free you himself,
and sooner than you think for, if you’ll only leave him alone, and give
him enough rope to hang himself with.’
‘Maggie! What _do_ you mean? Have you heard anything? You see I am
afraid even to talk with the other passengers, for fear of my identity
becoming known!’
‘You talk with Mr Blythe sometimes, and I should think he was a very
nice young man to talk with, too,’ remarked Maggie dryly.
Iris blushed crimson.
‘Oh, yes! he is very kind. I knew him years ago in Scotland, Maggie.
But, of course, I never speak to him of Mr Harland. Indeed, I was so
afraid he might find out something about us, that I told him I was a
widow, for which I have often been sorry since. But do tell me what you
meant by saying that.’
‘Well, I meant this, mistress. That that villain (thinking he has got
well rid of you and me) is making up to another woman.’
‘What woman? Who told you so?’ demanded Iris quickly.
‘No one told me. I can see it for myself, and all the ship knows it.
Though I keep my face well covered when I go on deck, I don’t shut my
eyes, I can tell you; and there I see him, day after day, and night
after night, by the side of the same young lady, whispering in her ear,
and goggling at her with those great black eyes of his. So I asked Will
their names (just as if it was for curiosity), and he said they was a
Mr Harland and a Miss Vansittart; and she’s a great heiress, and they
are to be married as soon as they get ashore. I said he looked a bad
’un, and I wouldn’t trust him with the change for a brass farthing;
and then Will told me something about him that--Well, he bound me to
secrecy, but all I can say, my pretty, is that the brute’s in your
power whenever you choose to make use of the knowledge.’
‘_In my power_,’ repeated Iris dreamily.
She had grown very pale, and clenched her hand as Maggie spoke of her
husband’s threatened infidelity; for though a woman may have learnt
through much tribulation to hate and despise a man, she does not hear
with equanimity that he is about to insult and pass her over for
another. But as the girl declared that Harland was ‘_in her power_,’
her look of anger changed to one of determination.
‘Tell me directly,’ she cried, clutching her arm. ‘How is he in my
power? What can I do to revenge myself on him?’
‘Why, mistress, you frighten me!’ exclaimed Maggie. ‘I never saw you
look like that before. Why should you care what such a black-hearted
villain says or does, except it be to set you free--’
‘Free! Free! What would be the good of freedom to me, Maggie? Do
you suppose I would ever take advantage of it--to go in bondage to
another man? But Mr Harland shall not marry this girl. He shall not
aggrandise himself at her expense and mine! He shall not ruin another
life, and make another woman curse the day she ever met him! No! not
if I can prevent it! I have suffered so deeply--I have wept so much on
account of him, that I feel as if I could lay down my life to save a
fellow-creature from the same miserable fate! He shall not marry Miss
Vansittart, Maggie! He shall not even continue to court her, if I can
prevent it! But how--_how_?’
She clasped her head with her hands, and bowed herself over the table.
‘Mistress, dear!’ cried Maggie. ‘My pretty, don’t take on! Oh, the
brute ain’t worth a single tear! If you knew as much as I do, you’d say
so too!’
‘I _do_ say so, and I believe it. Maggie, what shall I do?’
‘Will you speak to Will, my dear? Will you tell him you’re that man’s
wife, and ask his advice? He can give it better than I. And he can tell
you something (that I daren’t) as will show you that Mr Harland’s worse
than you ever thought him.’
And here she whispered in her mistress’s ear.
‘Oh, how dreadful! How awful it all is!’ moaned Iris. ‘What shall I do?
Who shall I go to?’
‘Why not speak to Mr Blythe, mistress. He’s young, but he’s your
friend; and he’s got a head on his shoulders. Tell it all to him.’
‘No! no! I can’t!’ said her companion, shaking her head.
‘Well, it’s the truth,’ replied Maggie, rising to her feet; ‘and, if I
was you, I’d just leave the brute alone till he’s well in the net, and
then come down upon him for bigamy. Why, only think of it! You’d be as
free as air! And if you stop him, you may be bound all your life.’
‘How can I take my happiness at the expense of an innocent person,
Maggie?’
‘Do you mean Miss Vansittart? I shouldn’t call HER innocent! She’s
just as ready to have him as he is her; and I bet she’s never took the
trouble to ask if he’s married or single. Just like them women! Ready
to jump down any man’s throat,’ said Maggie, with as much indignation
as if she had not been a woman herself. ‘Well, I’ll leave you now, my
pretty, and go on deck to have a look after them two, and if I can find
out anything more about their doings, I’ll come back and let you know.’
‘Yes, do go, dear Maggie. I shall be better left alone to think out
this new dilemma by myself. Go to your Will, and be as happy as you
can; but don’t tell him anything about me until we meet again.’
As soon as Maggie met Will Farrell, he saluted her with a fresh story
concerning their mutual enemy. A rumour had spread about the ship that
Harland had played with marked cards the night before, when he had been
particularly lucky at Napoleon; and although there was no verification
of the report, it was generally known, and every one was looking
askance at him in consequence. Mr Vansittart was especially disturbed.
He had taken an unusual fancy for Godfrey Harland, and, notwithstanding
his wife’s objections to the match, he had encouraged his attentions
to his daughter. Now he heard with consternation that Mr Fowler had
accused Harland in the smoke-room, of looking over his neighbour’s
hand, with the intent to defraud, and he wished earnestly that he had
been a little more reticent in his manner towards him. The accusation
was a grave one, but it had gone no farther at the time, although the
scene that ensued had been very noisy. But it had not been withdrawn,
and Mr Fowler had refused to tender an apology, so that the rest of the
passengers were beginning not to see Mr Harland when he approached them.
‘If he ever tries it on again, he’ll get tarred and feathered,’ said
Farrell, in conclusion.
‘And serve him right, too,’ replied Maggie imprudently. ‘I know _I’d_
like to have the handling of him--the black villain!’
‘Why, Maggie, what do _you_ know about him?’ said Farrell, with
surprise.
‘Haven’t you told me he ruined your life, Will, by palming off his own
forgeries upon you?’
‘Yes, so he did, and I’ll be even with him for it yet. But you spoke as
if you had a private grudge against him.’
‘And so I have,’ whispered the girl, with a sob in her throat. ‘Put
your head closer, Will, and you shall know all. You know I told you
I was a bad girl, and had been ruined by some one who was worse than
myself. Well, _that’s_ the man. Godfrey Harland is my seducer.’
‘D--n him!’ hissed Farrell, between his teeth; ‘it will be another nail
in his coffin when we settle our accounts. But how did it happen, my
girl? Where did you meet him? Does your mistress know?’
‘Ah! no, no!’ cried Maggie, as she grasped him convulsively; ‘and you
must _swear_ never to tell her, Will. For I’ve tried to make it up to
her, indeed I have. I knew I wasn’t fit to stay by her side, and that
if she guessed how bad I was, she’d have sent me away. But she wanted
my help and my protection: that was all I stayed for. I couldn’t bear
to leave her in his clutches--so bad and cruel as he is, and so I tried
to forget it all, for her sake. But I hate him all the worse that he
should have tempted me to injure such a sweet, dear creature as she is,
and as pure as the stars that are shining over us now.’
‘But I don’t understand you, Maggie. How can that blackguard’s
behaviour to you injure Miss Douglas? She doesn’t know him, too, does
she?’
‘Why, she’s _his wife_! There, now, I’ve let the cat out of the bag;
but you’ll keep it sacred, won’t you, Will, for my sake, and the dear
mistress, for she don’t want it known just yet?’
‘_His wife!_’ repeated Farrell. ‘Why, I had no idea that he was
married. Poor lady! I _do_ pity her. I’d pity a dog that was in his
power. But how, then, can he marry Miss Vansittart? What new devilry
is he up to? Maggie, you and I must prevent this. We have him in our
power.’
‘Yes, yes; but we must do nothing until we know it’s for the best.
Don’t you see, Will, that this is why the mistress and I have been
hiding all the voyage? We’ve been afraid of _his_ seeing us; and except
he holds his head too high for the second cabin, he must have done so
before this.’
‘He’s got another reason for not caring for the company of the second
cabin, Maggie,’ said Farrell, laughing. ‘He knows _I’m_ there. I met
him before we came aboard, and warned him to keep out of my way. But
when we get on shore, we’ll cry quits. Don’t be in a hurry, girl. Bide
your time, and you’ll see the finest shindy that’s ever met your eyes,
as soon as we get on shore.’
[Illustration]
[Illustration]