LEAVING THE ISLAND.
The next day was a busy one to our islanders.
Justin was engaged in packing up and sending off his stores of fresh
provisions to the ship. And the jolly boat plied all day long between
the ship and shore to transport them.
Britomarte and Judith were employed in packing such clothing, books and
household effects as they meant to take with them from the island.
It had been determined, in solemn consultation between the three, that
some of the live stock, some of the household furniture, and even some
of the provisions—such as would be likely to keep for a length of
time—should be left on the island, in case any other ship should be
wrecked upon its rocks, or any other passengers cast away upon its
desolate shores.
In the fields they turned loose a few sheep and pigs and fowls.
They would have left Crummie, the cow, too, but that Judith raised such
a howl as never had been heard from her before, not even on the occasion
of the shipwreck; and vowed that to leave Crummie behind would break her
heart entirely.
To comfort Judith, and, above all, to stop her deafening howls,
Britomarte promised that Crummie should go. And Britomarte’s promise was
her bond; and, moreover, her word was law.
The day that our islanders spent in consulting, deciding and packing,
the officers of the _Xyphias_ passed in preparing for a great feast to
be held on board the ship in honor of their new acquaintances and in
return for their hospitality. And on the second day our islanders were
invited to partake of it. They went early, fared sumptuously, passed a
very pleasant day, and returned late at night to their island home.
The remaining days of the week were spent in repairing the injuries of
the ship and transporting the stores from the island.
The captain of the _Xyphias_ thought the ship would be ready to sail on
the following Monday.
When Justin heard this, he invited the captain and all the officers to
come and spend Sunday—the last Sunday and the last day on the island—at
this house, to hold divine service there.
And early on Sunday morning, the parlor, now dismantled of half its
furniture, was converted into a temporary chapel, and hymns were sung
and prayers said and sermons preached, both in the morning and in the
afternoon. The sermon in the morning was preached by the ship’s
chaplain; and in the afternoon by Mr. Rosenthal; and the officers and
the crew attended both services, and the captain of the _Xyphias_ slept
comfortably in his seat through both sermons; but let this be said for
him—that he would not have slept, or even winked, during a sea fight,
though it had lasted day and night.
When the afternoon service was over, the crew and some of the officers
returned to the ship; but the captain and others remained and spent the
evening, and only left at a late hour.
Wind and tide favoring, they were to sail early in the morning.
The jolly boat was to be at the landing by sunrise to take the last load
of our friends’ effects to the ship. It was then to return for Justin,
Britomarte, Judith, Crummie and the little dog.
And though this was their last night on the lonely island that they
might never expect to revisit again, and they were on the eve of
embarking for their dear, native land, and thoughts and feelings were
busy alike with tender regrets and joyful anticipations, yet—in
consequence of the bodily fatigue they had endured that day, they fell
asleep as soon as their heads had touched their pillows, and slept
profoundly until morning.
The daylight, creeping in at the windows, woke Justin first.
When breakfast was over they went to work at their final preparations
for departure.
I said that they intended to leave the house with a portion of the
furniture, clothing and books, for the benefit of any future shipwrecked
sufferers who might possibly be cast away upon the island.
So Britomarte went into the bedroom, and made up the beds, and tidied
the washstands, and set the chairs straight and closed the windows, and
fastened the doors.
And while she was doing that, Judith washed up all the crockeryware and
cooking utensils, and put them away in the cupboards, and then she
cleaned up the kitchen, and put out the fire, and shut the windows and
doors.
In the meantime, Justin went into the parlor and set the chairs, tables,
lamps and vases straight, and laid a Bible, a hymn book, an old copy of
Shakespeare and an old almanac, a slate-pencil and some paper, pens and
ink upon the book shelves. Then he fastened the windows and doors.
Finally, the three friends, having completed their work, met in the
front passage.
“Troth,” said Judith, “whoever comes afther us can’t say as we’re not
good housekeepers; for sure they’ll find everything convanient to their
hands, so they will.”
No one answered the girl. But Justin, with a grave face, summoned the
two women to his side, and then, reverently lifting his hat, returned
thanks to Divine Providence for their long preservation on the desert
island, and for their present happy deliverance, and invoked his
blessing on the isle they were leaving, that it might yet become the
cultivated and populous habitation of civilized and Christian man, and
on their own coming voyage, that it might have a prosperous course and
happy end.
And then the three went out of the house, closing the front door behind
them, and taking their way to the beach, followed by the faithful little
dog. Justin carried on his shoulder the last box, which came out of
Britomarte’s room, filled with combs, brushes, towels, etc.
Down on the sands they found the boat waiting for them under the command
of Lieutenant Ethel, who, to do them honor, had come in person to take
them on board.
Crummie was already in the boat, to which she had been enticed by
Judith’s old device of a pail of “warrum male and wather.”
And now, with her nose in that delicious mess, she remained quiet enough
while the boat was still.
Lieutenant Ethel stepped on shore, bowed profoundly to Britomarte, and
held out his hands to Mr. Rosenthal, with a hearty:
“Good-morning.”
“I hope we have not kept you waiting,” said Justin.
“Not a moment. We have only just got Mistress Cudd in here,” laughed the
young man, pointing to Crummie.
They all then got into the boat.
Judith went immediately and stood by the head of the cow, with her hand
on the creature’s neck, ready to soothe and control her in case she
should become frightened and restive when the boat should begin to move.
But Crummie had seen too many ups and downs in this world to be
disturbed by trifles, and so she made the passage to the ship with great
composure.