It is strange what trifling events--little things apparently in
themselves--seem to have the power of shaping our different destinies,
and colouring, so to speak, the whole course of our subsequent life!
To illustrate this, I may state without exaggeration that, had it not
been for Dr Hellyer's hat--taken in connection with the mischievous
promptings of that madcap Tom Larkyns, my special chum at the time--it
is more than probable that the grand climax which so abruptly brought my
school-days to a close might have been averted; and, in that case,
following out the argument, I should not have gone to sea; have never
started on that disastrous voyage round Cape Horn which nearly
terminated my then newly-commenced nautical career as summarily as my
whilom academical studies had been put a stop to just previously; and,
as a natural consequence, I should most certainly have never had the
opportunity or necessity for spinning the present yarn. But, perhaps,
the best plan for me to pursue, in order to make you fully understand
the matter in all its bearings, will be to "begin at the beginning," as
your regular 'longshore professional storytellers say, in the good old-
fashioned way, without any more backing and filling, and veering and
hauling, which mode of progression, as every decent sailor knows, only
tends to take a craft off her proper true course, and make lots of
leeway; whereas, if we sail on free, with a fair wind and a steady helm,
you'll soon be able to follow in my wake and form a correct opinion of
your own as to the merits of my logical conclusions.
I will now, therefore, put back again and select a fresh point of
departure after this little bit of sea lawyering; so, here goes for a
start in earnest!
My name is Martin Leigh, and my mother died shortly after I was born,
worse luck for me! My father, who was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy,
being within a year or two subsequently killed in action up the Niger
river on the west coast of Africa, I was left an orphan at a very early
age, without having ever experienced, even in my most remote childish
recollections, those two greatest of all blessings--a mother's love and
parental guidance--which many who have been more fortunate than myself
to possess are, as I have frequently noticed in after-life, but too
often in the habit of undervaluing and making light of.
At the time of my birth, my father was abroad on service in the exercise
of his profession, having no private fortune or other resources which
would have enabled him to live at home on his half-pay; and on my
mother's early death I was taken charge of at his request by his
brother, a man considerably older than himself, with a wife and family
of his own. Of course, while my father lived he made over a portion of
the _honorarium_ given him by a grateful country in return for exposing
his life at the call of duty; but, on his suddenly succumbing to the
effects of a murderous slug shot through the lungs, fired from the old
flint musket of one of the King of Abarri's adherents, in the
pestilential African stream up which he had gone to demolish a native
stronghold that had defied the fetish of the British flag, this
allowance for my support ceased, and I was thenceforth left a poor
pensioner on my uncle's bounty. I will do my relative the justice of
stating that I do not believe he would have grudged the extra expense I
entailed on his already well-populated household, had it not been for my
aunt. This lady, however, affectionately regarded me as an interloper
from the very first; and I have a vivid memory, even now, of the
aggravating way she had of talking about the food I ate and the clothes
I wore out--although, goodness knows, my tailor's bill could not have
amounted to much in those days, as I was invariably made the residuary
legatee of my elder cousin Ralph's cast-off jackets and trousers, which,
when pretty nearly dilapidated, used to be made over to my use, after
being first cut down by my Aunt Matilda's own fair hands to suit my more
juvenile proportions.
To make a long story short, I could plainly perceive, young as I was,
long before I had cut my eye teeth, that I was looked upon as an
uncalled-for incumbrance by my relatives, senior and junior alike--Aunt
Matilda never being dissuaded, by any fear of hurting my feelings, from
continually speaking of my pauper condition, and throwing it, as it
were, in my face, wondering in her hypocritical way what special sin she
could have committed that she should thus be afflicted in having to
"deny her own children their rightful bread," that I, miserable orphan,
might "wax fat and kick," as she said; while my cousins, who were a very
mean lot, dutifully followed the example set them by their mother, in
making me "realise my position," as they termed their cruel tyranny.
Uncle George used sometimes to take my part when some hazy recollection
of his dead brother came before his mind, declaring that as long as he
had a crust to spare I should not want; still, as the incessant dropping
of water will in the end wear away stone, so my aunt's persistent
nagging and iteration of my shortcomings in resisting my cousins'
bullying had their due effect in time.
The upshot was that, when I had just turned my twelfth year and had
experienced a childhood of martyrdom which I trust few others situated
like myself will ever have to undergo, my uncle came to the
determination of sending me away to a cheap boarding-school at a
distance, where I was to be taught and boarded and "found" for the
munificent sum I believe of twelve pounds annually. The proviso was, I
may add, especially insisted on by my Aunt Matilda, that I was not to
return "home"--I beg that hearty word's pardon for so misapplying it--
for the holidays at any period whatever, but was to spend my whole time
under the academical roof-tree until my pupilage should expire.
Hitherto I had received no regular instruction whatever, and had it not
been for the kind offices of a good-natured servant-maid, I would have
been unable either to read or write. Indeed, I believe the neighbours
must have gossiped about my neglected state and the position I occupied
in the house, where I had to perform all sorts of menial offices, and
was hardly ever allowed out of doors, except on Sundays, when I had to
go to the chapel which my aunt attended. Be that as it may, at all
events, I was told by my friend, the maid-servant aforesaid, that the
minister of this chapel had remonstrated on my behalf. Thence came the
determination on my uncle's part to send me to school; for I am certain
that if my dear aunt could have had her own way, without the fear of
being talked about in the locality, she would much rather have entrusted
me to the care of the parochial authorities. However, in whatever way
the matter was decided, I know that when I heard the news I felt
inclined to jump for joy, considering "going to school," which is so
dreaded at first by boys with happier homes than I had been accustomed
to, would be a delightful deliverance from the misery to which I had
been condemned from infancy in my uncle's house--living like an Ishmael,
with every hand, save that of Uncle George and Molly the maid, raised
against me.
"Now, Martin," said my uncle, when he informed me of the result of the
family council held on my case, "as I'm only a poor man, I'm straining a
point and crippling my means in order to send you to school; but I am
doing it so that you may be educated to earn your own living, which
you'll have to do as soon as the three years expire for which I have
contracted with Dr Hellyer; after that it will be out of my power to do
anything further for you."
"All right, uncle," said I, buoyantly, so carried away with excitement
at the news that I almost felt kindly disposed towards my aunt, who was
standing by, although she tried to damp my spirits as much as in her
lay.
"You are only throwing away your money, George," she remarked acidly to
my uncle. "He has always shown an ungrateful, thankless disposition;
and his bad, undutiful temper will be certain to bring him to ruin!"
"Let us hope not," replied uncle, placidly. He was a quiet, easy-going
business man, employed in the City, and used to let things quietly take
their own course, except when sometimes they touched him too keenly to
be left unnoticed. He then went on addressing me:
"You will have to be steady and diligent, making the most of your time;
and the master will report to me every quarter as to your conduct and
zeal in learning."
"Nice reports they'll be!" interposed my aunt, mockingly.
"Well, well," hurriedly concluded Uncle George, to get the thing ended
as soon as possible. "Your fortune is all in your own hands, and I hope
and trust, if only for your father's sake, you will turn out well!
Remember, that if Dr Hellyer gives a good general report of you at the
end of your three years' term, I'll try to get you into a City warehouse
or office; but if you behave badly, why, you'll have to shift for
yourself, and go your own course, as I shall wash my hands of you!"
There the conversation ended, with an intimation that I was to go to Dr
Hellyer's school in three days' time.
The interval passed like a whirlwind to me; for not only were my
thoughts full of the new life on which I was entering, but there was in
addition the very unusual bustle attendant on my being provided with a
wardrobe--I for whom anything had been good enough before! My uncle,
however, had now made it a _sine qua non_ that I should be fitted out
properly with decent clothes, and, consequently, my aunt was obliged to
furnish me with a thorough rig, selected from my Cousin Ralph's surplus
stock. One thing pleased me in this better than all else! It was that,
instead of having my outer raiment composed, as previously, of Ralph's
cast-off garments, I was measured for an entirely new suit of my own.
This alone was an unexpected gratification; for I hated the fact of my
being compelled to wear Ralph's discarded clothes. It had been gall and
wormwood to me. I loathed myself for having to put them on, and loathed
him as the malicious instrument that caused me to be so degraded--the
more especially as my cousin would in "a friendly sort of way"
frequently allude to the circumstance of the clothes having been
formerly his, calling attention to my want of care in treating them
properly!
All things have an end, fortunately, and the morning arrived at last
when I had to bid farewell to the villa on the outskirts of Islington
where I had passed so many miserable years. Molly, the servant-maid,
was the only one in the house with whom I parted with any regret; and it
was with feelings considerably more exultant than sad that I accompanied
my uncle to the City in the omnibus which he always took to his place of
business, that convenient vehicle passing by in its route the corner of
the road where uncle lived.
Arriving at the London Bridge terminus, Uncle George ensconced me and my
box in a train, bound for Beachampton, at which retired and out-of-the-
way little watering-place was situated Dr Hellyer's school.
Handing me then my railway ticket and a two-and-sixpenny "tip," Uncle
George gave me a hearty hand-shake, wishing me good-bye and a safe
journey.
"Mind you be a good boy, and pay attention to your lessons," he said.
"And--listen, Martin--should you ever be in any serious trouble, you can
write and let me know. But mind," added Uncle George, "you mustn't
forget, my boy, to address your letters to my office, and not to the
villa; for your Aunt Matilda might not like the idea, you know, eh!"
"All right, Uncle George," I answered. "I will remember where to write
to, never fear. Good-bye now, and thank you for all your kindness to
me."
"Good-bye, Martin!" he echoed; and, as the train moved slowly out of the
station, I really felt quite sorry to part with him; but, as the panting
engine proceeded on its way, going faster as it emerged from the
labyrinthic terminus on to the open line, dragging the groaning,
wheezing, jolting carriages behind it--the clatter of the wheels and
rattle of the coupling-chains keeping time with the puffs and pants of
escaping steam--my temporary emotion at parting with Uncle George was
banished by the exultant feeling of being set free, like a bird let
loose from a cage.
I was only conscious that I was flying along to new scenes and new
surroundings, where everything would be fresh and novel, and entirely
unlike what I had previously been accustomed to at Tapioca Villa.