CAPTAIN ROY SURPRISES AND GRATIFIES HIS SON, WHO SURPRISES A NEGRO, AND
SUDDENLY FORMS AN ASTONISHING RESOLVE.
Arrived in Batavia--the low-lying seaport and capital of the Dutch
island of Java--Captain Roy had his brig examined, and found that the
damage she had sustained was so serious that several months would
probably elapse before she would be again ready for sea.
"Now, Nigel, my lad," said the old gentleman, on the morning after the
examination had been made, "come down below with me; I want to have a
confabulation with 'ee."
"Why, father," said the youth, when seated at the small cabin table
opposite his rugged parent, "you seem to be in an unusually solemn frame
of mind this morning. Has anything happened?"
"Nothin', boy--nothin'. Leastwise nothin' in particular. You know all
about the brig, an' what a deal o' repair she's got to undergo?"
"Of course I do. You know I was present when you talked the matter over
with that fellow--what's-'is-name--that gave you his report."
"Just so. Well now, Nigel, you don't suppose, do you, that I'm goin' to
keep you here for some months knockin' about with nothin' to do--eatin'
your grub in idleness?"
"Certainly not," said the youth, regarding the stern countenance of his
parent with an amused look. "I have no intention of acting such an
ignoble part, and I'm surprised at you askin' the question, for you know
I am not lazy--at least not more so than average active men--and there
must be plenty of work for me to do in looking after the cargo,
superintending repairs, taking care of the ship and men. I wonder at
you, father. You must either have had a shock of dotage, or fallen into
a poetical vein. What is a first mate fit for if--"
"Nigel," said Captain Roy, interrupting, "I'm the owner an' commander of
the _Sunshine_, besides bein' the paternal parent of an impertinent son,
and I claim to have the right to do as I please--therefore, hold your
tongue and listen to me."
"All right, father," replied the young man, with a benignant grin;
"proceed, but don't be hard upon me; spare my feelings."
"Well now, this is how the land lies," said the old seaman, resting his
elbows on the table and clasping his hands before him. "As Mr Moor and
I, with the stooard and men, are quite sufficient to manage the affairs
o' the brig, and as we shall certainly be here for a considerable time
to come, I've made up my mind to give you a holiday. You're young, you
see, an' foolish, and your mind needs improvin'. In short, you want a
good deal o' the poetry knocked out o' you, for it's not like your
mother's poetry by any means, so you needn't flatter yourself--not built
on the same lines by a long way. Well--where was I?"
"Only got the length of the holiday yet, father."
"Only, indeed. You ungrateful dog! It's a considerable length to get,
that, isn't it? Well, I also intend to give you some money, to enable
you to move about in this curious archipelago--not much, but enough to
keep you from starvation if used with economy, so I recommend you to go
into the town, make general inquiries about everything and everywhere,
an' settle in your mind what you'll do, for I give you a rovin'
commission an' don't want to be bothered with you for some time to
come."
"Are you in earnest, father?" asked Nigel, who had become more
interested while the captain unfolded his plan.
"Never more in earnest in my life--except, p'raps, when I inquired over
twenty years ago whether you was a boy or a girl."
"Well, now, that _is_ good of you, father. Of course I need not say
that I am charmed at the prospect you open up to me. And--and when may
I start?"
"At once. Up anchor and away to-night if you choose."
"But--where?"
"Anywhere--everywhere, Java, Sumatra, Borneo--all Malaysia before you
where to choose. Now be off, and think over it, for I've got too much
to do to waste time on you at present," said the captain, rising, "and,
stay--Nigel."
"Well?" said the youth, looking back as he was about to leave the cabin.
"Whatever you do, don't grow poetical about it. You know it is said
somewhere, that mischief is found for idle hands to do."
"All right, father. I'll keep clear of poetry--leave all that sort o'
nonsense to _you_. I'll--
"I'll flee Temptation's siren voice,
_Throw_ poesy to the _crows_
And let my soul's ethereal fire
Gush out in sober prose."
It need scarcely be said that our hero was not slow to take advantage of
the opportunity thus thrown in his way. He went off immediately through
the town, armed with the introduction of his father's well-known name,
and made inquiries of all sorts of people as to the nature, the
conditions, the facilities, and the prospects of travel in the Malay
Archipelago. In this quest he found himself sorely perplexed for the
very good reason that "all sorts" of people, having all sorts of ideas
and tastes, gave amazingly conflicting accounts of the region and its
attractions.
Wearied at last with his researches, he sauntered towards afternoon in
the direction of the port, and began in a listless sort of way to watch
the movements of a man who was busily engaged with a boat, as if he were
making preparations to put to sea.
Now, whatever philosophers may say to the contrary, we hold strongly to
the opinion that likings and dislikings among men and women and children
are the result of some profound occult cause which has nothing whatever
to do with experience. No doubt experience may afterwards come in to
modify or intensify the feelings, but it is not the originating cause.
If you say it is, how are we to account for love at first sight? Beauty
has nothing necessarily to do with it, for men fall in love at first
sight with what the world calls plain women--happily! Character is not
the cause, for love assails the human breast, oft-times, before the
loved object has uttered a word, or perpetrated a smile, or even
fulminated a glance to indicate character. So, in like manner,
affection may arise between man and man.
It was so on this occasion with Nigel Roy. As he stood abstractedly
gazing at the boatman he fell in love with him--at least he took a
powerful fancy to him, and this was all the more surprising that the man
was a negro,--a woolly-headed, flat-nosed, thick-lipped nigger!
We would not for a moment have it supposed that it is unnatural to love
such a man. Quite the reverse. But when such a man is a perfect
stranger, has never uttered a word in one's presence, or vouchsafed so
much as a glance, and is gravely, stolidly engaged in the unsavoury work
of greasing some of the tackling of a boat, it does seem unaccountable
that he should be unwittingly capable of stirring up in another man's
bosom feelings of ardent goodwill, to put it mildly.
After watching him for some time, Nigel, under an almost involuntary
impulse, shouted "Hullo!"
"Hullo!" replied the negro, looking up with a somewhat stern frown and a
pout of his thick lips, as much as to say--"Who are _you_?"
Nigel smiled, and made that suggestive motion with his forefinger which
signifies "Come here."
The frown fled and the pout became a smile as the negro approached,
wiping his hands on a piece of cotton-waste.
"What you want wi' _me_, sar?" he asked.
"Well, upon my word," said Nigel, somewhat perplexed, "I can't very well
say. I suppose something must have been in my mind, but--anyhow, I felt
a desire to have a talk with you; that is, if you can spare the time."
The first part of this reply induced a slight recurrence of the frown
and pout, but at its conclusion the black brow cleared and the mouth
expanded to such a gum-and-teeth-exposing extent that Nigel fairly burst
into a laugh.
"You's bery good, sar," said the man, "an' I's hab much pleasure to make
your acquaintance.--Der an't no grease on 'em now."
The last remark had reference to the enormous black paw which he held
out.
Nigel at once grasped it and shook it heartily.
"I's bery fond ob a talk, sar," continued the negro, "so as you wants
one, heabe ahead."
Thus encouraged, our hero began by remarking that he seemed to be
preparing for a trip.
"Dat's zackly what I's a-doin', sar."
"A long one?"
"Well, dat depends on what you call short. Goin' to Sunda Straits,
which p'raps you know, sar, is nigh a hundred miles fro' here."
"And what may you be going to do there?" asked Nigel.
"Goin' home to Krakatoa."
"Why, I thought that was an uninhabited island. I passed close to it on
my way here, and saw no sign of inhabitants."
"Dat's cause I was absint fro' home. An' massa he keeps indoors a good
deal."
"And pray who is massa?" asked Nigel.
"Sar," said the negro, drawing up his square sturdy frame with a look of
dignity; "fair-play is eberyt'ing wid me. You've ax me a heap o'
questions. Now's my turn. Whar you comes fro'?"
"From England," replied Nigel.
"An' whar you go to?"
"Well, you've posed me now, for I really don't know where I'm going to.
In fact that is the very thing I have been trying to find out all day,
so if you'll help me I'll be much obliged."
Here Nigel explained his position and difficulties, and it was quite
obvious, judging from the glittering eyes and mobile mouth, that he
poured his tale into peculiarly sympathetic ears. When he had finished,
the negro stood for a considerable time gazing in meditative silence at
the sky.
"Yes," he said at last, as if communing with himself, "I t'ink--I ain't
quite sure, but I t'ink--I may ventur'."
"Whatever it is you are thinking about," remarked Nigel, "you may
venture to say anything you like to _me_."
The negro, who, although comparatively short of stature, was Herculean
in build, looked at the youth with an amused expression.
"You're bery good, sar, but dat's not what I's t'inkin' ob. I's
t'inkin' whedder I dar' ventur' to introdoce you to my massa. He's not
fond o' company, an' it might make 'im angry, but he came by a heaby
loss lately an' p'raps he may cond'send to receibe you. Anyhow you'd be
quite safe, for he's sure to be civil to any friend ob mine."
"Is he then so fierce?" asked Nigel, becoming interested as well as
amused.
"Fierce! no, he's gentle as a lamb, but he's awrful when he's roused--
tigers, crokindiles, 'noceroses is nuffin' to him!"
"Indeed! what's his name, and what does he do? how does he live?"
The negro shook his head. "Da's more'n I dar tell till I ax his leave,
sar. I kin only say de peepil around calls 'im the hermit ob Rakata,
'cause he libs by his-self (wid me, ob course, but _I_ counts for
nuffin'), close under de ole volcano ob Krakatoa. Dey tink--some ob de
foolish peepil--dat he hab sold his-self to de dibil, but I knows
better. He's a good man, and you'd hab great fun if you stop wid him.
Now, what I's a-gwine to advise you is, come wid me an' see de hermit.
If he lets you stop, good. If not, I fetch you ober to de main land--
whar you please--an' you kin come back here or go whar you choose. Its
wort' your while to take your chance, anyhow."
The negro said this with such an earnest look that Nigel made up his
mind on the spot to accept this curious invitation.
"I'll go!" he exclaimed with sudden energy. "When do you start?"
"To-morrer at daybreak, sar."
"Well, I shall have to talk it over first with my father, but I'm sure
he won't object, so you may look out for me here at daybreak. Shall I
have to fetch any provisions with me for the voyage?"
"No, nuffin'. Boat's crammed wi' grub. But you'd better bring a gun o'
some sort an' a 'volver, an' a big knife, an' a mortal big appetite, for
a man's no good widout dat."
"I always carry that about with me," said the youth, "whatever else I
may leave behind; and I'll see to the other things.--By the way, what's
your name?"
"Moses."
"Is that all?"
"Isn't dat enuff?" returned the negro with a look of dignity.
"Quite; but I have the advantage of you there, Moses, for I have two
names--Nigel Roy."
"Well, I don't see much use ob two, but which does you like to be called
by--Nadgel or Roy?"
"Whichever you please, Moses; I'll answer to either. So now, good-bye
for the present, and look out for me to-morrow at daylight."
"Good-bye, Massa Nadgel, till to-morrer."
The negro waved his hand and, sauntering slowly back to his boat,
remarked in an undertone, "I lub dat young feller!" Saying which, he
resumed his greasing operations.
Of course Captain Roy made no objection to his son's proposal, though he
freely gave his opinion that it was a wild-goose chase.
"However, lad, please yourself and you'll please me," he added; "and
now, be particular to bear in mind that you've got to write to me every
time you get within hail of a post-office or a passing ship or steamer
that may chance to be comin' this way, and in each letter be sure to
tell me where you're goin' to next, so as I may send a letter there to
you in case I want you to return sudden or otherwise. We mustn't lose
touch, you see. You needn't write long screeds. I only want to know
your whereabouts from time to time. For the rest--you can spin it out
in yarns when you come back."