"Dominick," said Otto, next morning, after having solemnly and somewhat
mysteriously led his brother to the old burial-ground, "would you
believe me if I told you that last night, when you and the like of you
were sound asleep, not to say snoring, I saw some twenty or thirty men
fly from this spot like maniacs at the howling of a ghost?"
"No, I would not believe you," answered Dominick, with a bland smile.
"Would you not believe me if I told you that _I_ was the ghost and that
Hugh Morris was the ringleader of the cowards?"
"Come, Otto, be sensible and explain."
Otto became sensible and explained. Thereupon Dominick became serious,
and said "Oho!" To which Otto replied "Just so," after which they
became meditative. Then Dominick linked his arm in that of his little
brother, and, leading him off to a well-known and sequestered walk,
entered into an earnest confabulation.
With the details of that confabulation we will not trouble the reader.
We will only repeat the concluding sentences.
"Well, then, Dom, it's agreed on, that we are to go on as if we knew
nothing about this matter, and take no notice of it whatever to any
one--not even to Pina."
"Yes, Otto, that's it. Of course I don't like to have any sort of
secret from Pina, but it would be cruel in us to fill her mind with
alarm for no good purpose. No--mum's the word. Take no notice
whatever. Morris may repent. Give him the benefit of the doubt, or the
hope."
"Very well, Dom, mum shall be the word."
Having thus for the time being disposed of a troublesome subject, the
brothers returned to the place where the emigrants were encamped.
Here all was wild confusion and harmony. Lest this should appear
contradictory, we must explain that the confusion was only physical, and
addressed to the eye. The emigrants, who were busy as ants, had already
disembarked large quantities of their goods, which were scattered about
in various heaps between the landing-place and the encampment. The
harmony, on the other hand, was mental and spiritual, for as yet there
had been no time for conflicting interests to arise, and the people were
all so busy that they had not leisure to disagree.
Besides, the weather being splendidly bright and warm was conducive to
good-humour. It will be remembered also that Hugh Morris and his
friends had resolved to remain quiet for the present. Perhaps the
effect of the ghostly visitation might have had some influence in
restraining their turbulent spirits.
At all events, be this as it may, when Dominick and Otto came upon the
scene everything was progressing pleasantly. The male emigrants were
running between the beach and the camp with heavy burdens on their
shoulders. The females were busy washing and mending garments, which
stood sorely in need of their attention, or tending the sick and what
Otto styled the infantry. The sailors were engaged, some in
transporting goods from the wreck to the shore, others in piloting two
of the large boats through the reef into the lagoon, and the larger
children were romping joyously in the thickets and trying to climb the
cocoa-nut trees, while the smaller fry were rolling helplessly on the
sands--watched, more or less, by mothers and big sisters.
Chief among those who piloted the large boats through the passage in the
reef was Hugh Morris. He took careful observations and soundings as he
went along, not that such were needed for the safety of the boats, but
Hugh Morris had an eye to the ultimate destiny of the ship.
"You're mighty particular, Morris," said Malines, with something of a
sneer in his tone, when the former drew up his boat inside the reef
beside the other boat. "One would think you were piloting a man-of-war
through instead of a little boat."
"What I was doin' is none o' your business, Malines," returned Hugh,
sternly. "Your command ceased when you lost your ship, and I ain't
agoin' to obey your orders; no, nor take any of your cheek."
"The emigrants chose to accept me as their commander, at least for the
present," retorted Malines, fiercely.
To this Hugh replied, with a laugh of scorn, that the emigrants might
make a commander of the ship's monkey for all that he cared, the
emigrants were not _his_ masters, and he would do exactly as he pleased.
As a number of his followers echoed the scornful laugh, Malines felt
that he had not the power to carry things with a high hand.
"Well, well," he returned, in a tone of quiet indifference, "we shall
see. It is quite clear to every one with a grain of sense that people
can't live comfortably under two masters; the people will have to decide
that matter for themselves before long."
"Ay, that will they, master," remarked Joe Binney, in a low but
significant voice. "Seems to me, however, that as we're all agreed
about goin' over to Big Island, we'd better go about it an' leave
disputation till afterwards."
Agreeing to this in silence, the men set about loading the boats for the
first trip.
Dominick and Otto, standing on the beach, had witnessed this
altercation.
"The seeds of much dissension and future trouble are there," remarked
the former.
"Unless we prevent the growth of the seed," said Otto.
"True, but how that is to be done does not appear obvious at present.
These men have strong wills and powerful frames, and each has a large
following, I can see that. We must hope that among the emigrants there
may be good and strong men enough to keep the crew in check."
"Luckily two of the biggest and stoutest are also the most sensible,"
said Otto.
"You mean the brothers Binney?"
"Yes, Dom. They're first-rate men, don't you think so?"
"Undoubtedly; but very ignorant, and evidently unaccustomed to lead or
command men."
"What a pity," exclaimed the boy, with a flush of sudden inspiration,
"that we couldn't make you king of the island! You're nearly as strong
as the best of them, and much cleverer."
Dominick received this compliment with a laugh and a shake of the head.
"No, my boy; I am not nearly as strong as Malines or Morris, or the
Binneys. Besides, you forget that `the race is not always to the swift,
nor the battle to the strong,' and as to cleverness, that does not
consist in a superior education or a head crammed full of knowledge, but
in the right and ready application of knowledge. No; I have no ambition
to be a king. But it won't do for us to stand here talking, else we
shall be set down as idlers. Come, let us lend a helping hand."
While the men were busy at the boats on the lagoon side of the reef,
Pauline was winning golden opinions among the women at the camp by the
hearty, unaffected way in which she went about making herself generally
useful. O blessed simplicity, how adorable art thou in man and woman!
Self-forgetfulness was a salient point in Pauline's character, and,
being conjoined with strong powers of sympathy, active good-will to man
and beast, and more than the average of intellectual capacity, with an
under-current of rippling fun, the girl's influence quickly made itself
felt.
Mrs Lynch said she was a jewel, and that was extraordinary praise from
the strapping widow, who seldom complimented her sex, whatever she may
have felt. Mrs Welsh said she was a "dear, pritty creetur'," and
laughter-loving little Mrs Nobbs, the wife of a jovial harum-scarum
blacksmith, pronounced her a "perfect darling." As for the children,
after one hour's acquaintance they adored her, and would have "bored her
to death" had that been possible. What the men thought of her we cannot
tell, for they spake not, but furtively stared at her in a sort of
reverential amazement, and some of them, in a state of mild enthusiasm,
gave murmured utterance to the sentence quoted above, "Blessed
simplicity!" for Pauline Rigonda was, at first, utterly unaware of the
sensation she created.
When the two boats were loaded down to the gunwales, a select party of
men embarked and rowed them over the calm lagoon to Big Island. Of
course they were well armed, for no one could tell what they might meet
with there. Dominick and Otto were of the party, and, being regarded in
some measure as owners of the soil, the former was tacitly recognised as
leader on this their first visit.
The distance they had to row was not more than a quarter of a mile, so
the lagoon was soon crossed. The spot at which they landed was a
beautiful little bay with bush-topped cliffs on one side, a thicket of
luxuriant plants on the other, and palm groves rising to a moderate
height behind. The little beach on which they ran the boats was of pure
white sand, which induced one of them to name it Silver Bay.
Jumping out, Dominick, with a dozen armed men, advanced into the bushes
with caution.
"Nothing to be seen here of either friends or foes," he said, halting.
"I felt sure that we should find no one, and it is of no use taking so
many of you from work; therefore, lads, I would advise your returning to
the boats and going to work at once. My little brother and I will
ascend to the top of the cliff there, from which we will be able to see
all the neighbouring country, and give you timely warning should any
natives appear. Pile your rifles on the beach, so as to have them
handy; but you've nothing to fear."
In a few minutes Dominick and his brother, each carrying a rifle and
cutlass supplied by the wrecked party, had mounted to the top of the
neighbouring cliff, while the men returned to aid in unloading the
boats.
"What a splendid island!" exclaimed Otto, with intense delight, as, from
the lofty outlook, they gazed down upon a scene of the richest beauty.
From their position on the reef they had hitherto seen the island
through the softening atmosphere of distance, like a rounded mass of
verdure; but in this case distance had _not_ "lent enchantment to the
view," for, now that they beheld it spread in all its luxuriance at
their feet, like a verdant gem resting on the breast of ocean, it
appeared infinitely more beautiful. Not only was the mind charmed by
the varied details of grove and bay, thicket and grotto, but the eye was
attracted irresistibly to the magnificent trees and shrubs which stood
prominent in their individuality--such as the light and elegant
aito-tree; the stately apape, with its branchless trunk and light crown
of pale green leaves, resembling those of the English ash; the splendid
tamanu, an evergreen, with its laurel-shaped leaves; the imposing
hutu-tree, with foliage resembling the magnolia and its large white
flowers, the petals of which are edged with bright pink;--these and many
others, with the feathery palm and several kinds of mimosa lining the
seashore, presented a display of form and colour such as the brothers
had not up to that time even dreamed of.
While Otto gazed in silent wonder and admiration, he was surprised to
hear Dominick give vent to a sigh, and shake his head.
"Dom!" he said, remonstratively, "what do you mean by that?"
"I mean that the place is such a paradise that the emigrants won't want
to leave it, and that will interfere with a little plan which had begun
to form itself in my brain of late. I had been thinking that among so
many tradesmen I should find men to help me to break up the wreck, and,
out of the materials, to build a small vessel, with which to leave the
island--for, to tell you the truth, Otto, I have begun to fear that this
place lies so far out of the track of ships that we may be left on it
for many years like the mutineers of Pitcairn Island."
"Humph! I'm sorry you're growing tired of it already," said Otto; "I
thought you had more o' the spirit of Robinson Crusoe in you, Dom, and I
never heard of the mutineers of Pitcairn Island; but if--"
"What! did you never hear of the mutineers of the _Bounty_?"
"Never. My education, you know, has been neglected."
"Then I'll tell you the story some time or other. It's too long to
begin just now, but it beats that of your favourite Robinson out of
sight in my opinion."
Otto shook his head in grave unbelief. "That," he said, "is impossible.
But as to this island proving so attractive, don't you think that such
fellows as Hugh Morris and Malines will take care to prevent it becoming
too much of a paradise?"
Dominick laughingly admitted that there was something in that--and he
was right. There was even more in that than he had imagined, for the
party had not been a week in their new home when they began to differ as
to the division of the island. That old, old story of mighty men
desiring to take possession of the land and push their weaker brethren
to the wall soon began to be re-enacted on this gem of the ocean, and
bade fair to convert the paradise--like the celebrated Monte Carlo--into
a magnificent pandemonium.
At one of their stormy meetings, of which the settlers had many, the
brothers Binney and Dominick were present. It was held on the shores of
Silver Bay, where the first boat-loads had been discharged, and around
which quite a village of rude huts had sprung up like mushrooms. From
those disputatious assemblies most of the women absented themselves, but
the widow Lynch always remained, holding herself in reserve for any
emergency, for she was well aware that her opinion carried much weight
with many of the party.
"We're a rough lot, and would need tight handlin'," whispered the little
man named Redding to Joe Binney, who sat on a bank beside him.
"The handlin' will be tight enough before long," returned Joe, with a
decided little nod. "Listen, the worst o' the lot's agoin' to spout."
This last remark had reference to Malines, who had just risen to reply
to a fiery little man named Buxley, a tailor by trade, who was possessed
not only of good reasoning power but great animal courage, as he had
proved on more than one occasion on the voyage out.
"Friends," said the mate, "it's all very well for Buxley to talk about
fair play, and equal rights, etcetera, but, I ask, would it be fair play
to give each of us an equal portion of land, when it's quite clear that
some--like Joe Binney there--could cultivate twice as much as his share,
while a creature like Buxley--"
"No more a creature than yourself!" shouted the little tailor.
"Could only work up half his lot--if even so much," continued the mate,
regardless of the interruption.
"Hear, hear!" from those who sympathised with Malines.
"An' what could _you_ do with land?" demanded Buxley in a tone of scorn,
"a man that's ploughed nothing but salt water all his life."
This was greeted with a laugh and "That's so." "He's only sowed wild
oats as yet." "Pitch into him, Buckie."
Malines was fast losing temper under the little man's caustic remarks,
but succeeded in restraining himself, and went on:--
"It's quite plain that the island is too small to let every man have an
equal bit of land, so I propose that it should be divided among those
who have strength and knowledge to work it, and--"
"_You_ ain't one o' them," shouted the irate tailor.
"Come, come, Buxley--let him speak," said Joe Binney, "fair play, ye
know. That's what you sticks up for, ain't it? Let 'im speak."
"Anyhow," continued Malines, sharply, "_I_ mean to keep the bit o'
ground I've staked off whether you like it or no--"
"An' so do I," cried Welsh, who was what may be styled a growly man.
"Sure, an' so does myself," said Teddy Malone, "for I've staked off a
bit about six feet long an' two broad, to plant mesilf in whin I give up
the ghost."
This mild pleasantry seemed to calm a little the rising wrath of
contending parties, much to Dominick's satisfaction, for he was
exceedingly anxious to keep in the background and avoid interference.
During the week that had passed, he had more than once been forced to
have sharp words with Malines, and felt that if he was to act as a
peacemaker--which he earnestly wished to do--he must avoid quarrelling
with him if possible.
The hopes of those who wished to settle matters amicably, however, were
dashed by the fiery tailor, who, still smarting under the contemptuous
tones and words of the mate, suddenly sprang to his feet and suggested
that, as Malines knew nothing about agriculture, no land at all should
be apportioned to him, but that he should be set to fishing, or some
such dirty work, for the benefit of the community.
This was too much for Malines, who strode towards Buxley with clenched
fists and furious looks, evidently intending to knock him down. To the
surprise and amusement of every one, Buxley threw himself into a
pugilistic attitude, and shouted defiantly, "Come on!" There is no
saying how the thing would have ended, if Dominick had not quickly
interposed.
"Come, Mr Malines," he said, "it is not very creditable in you to
threaten a man so very much smaller than yourself."
"Out of my road," shouted the mate, fiercely, "we don't want _gentlemen_
to lord it over us."
"No, nor yet _blackguards_," growled a voice in the crowd.
This so angered Malines, that he dealt Dominick a sounding slap on the
cheek.
For a moment there was dead silence, as the two men glared at each
other. If it had been a blow the youth might have stood it better, but
there was something so stinging, as well as insulting, in a slap, that
for a moment he felt as if his chest would explode. Before he could
act, however, Joe Binney thrust his bulky form between the men.
"Leave'm to me, master," he said, quietly turning up his wristbands,
"I'm used to this sort o' thing, an'--"
"No, no," said Dominick, in a deep, decided voice, "listen."
He grasped Joe by the arm, and whispered a few words in his ear. A
smile broke over the man's face, and he shook his head doubtfully.
"Well, it may be so," he remarked, "an' no doubt it would have a good
effect."
"Now, then, stand aside," said Dominick, as he retreated a few paces and
threw off his coat, while Malines still stood in a threatening attitude,
with an expression of contempt on his face. "My friends," he said, as
he slowly rolled up his shirt-sleeves, showing a pair of arms which,
although not bulky, displayed an amount of sinews and muscle that was
suggestive of knotted ropes under a fair skin--
"My friends," he said, "somewhere in the Bible it is written, `Smite a
scorner, and the simple will beware.' I have done my best to conciliate
_this_ scorner without success; I shall now try to smite him."
"An' brother David an' me will see fair play," remarked Joe Binney.
If the combatants had been more equally matched, the spectators would
probably have encouraged Dominick with a cheer, but the difference in
size was so apparent, that astonishment kept them silent. Dominick was
indeed fully as tall as his opponent, and his shoulders were nearly as
broad, but the massive weight of Malines's figure seemed to render the
chance of Dominick's success highly improbable.
The youth sprang at him, however, like lightning, and, hitting him a
violent blow on the forehead, leapt back out of his reach.
The blow had the effect that was intended; it roused the mate's wrath to
the utmost pitch, causing him to rush at his opponent, striking right
and left with all his force. Dominick, however, leapt about with such
activity, that only a few of the blows reached him, and these not with
their full force. The result was that the mate became what is styled
winded in a few minutes, and was compelled to pause to recover himself,
but Dominick had no intention of allowing him time to recover himself.
Without a moment's hesitation, he sprang in again and planted a severe
left-hander between his opponent's eyes. This roused the mate once more
to white heat, and he sought to close with his foe, but the latter
prevented that by leaping aside, tripping him up, and causing him to
plunge forward on his hands and knees--assisting him to that position
with a stiff rap on the right temple as he passed.
Then it was that Malines discovered that he had drawn on himself the
wrath of one who had been the champion boxer in a large public school,
and was quite as tough as himself in wind and limb, though not so strong
or so heavy.
Now, it is not our intention to give a graphic account of that
pugilistic encounter. Yet is it needful to point out briefly how, being
a man of peace, as well as a man of science, Dominick managed to bring
this fight to as speedy a close as possible. Instead, then, of striking
his foe in all directions, and producing a disgusting scene of
bloodshed, he confined his practice chiefly to one spot, between the
eyes, close above the bridge of the nose--varying it a little with a
shot now and then under each eye. This had the effect, owing to
constant repetition, of gradually shutting up both Malines's eyes so
that he could not easily see. When in this condition, Dominick suddenly
delivered first a left and then a right hander into what is sometimes
called the breadbasket, and stretched his adversary on the sand.
Dominick was not boastful or ungenerous. He did not crow over his
fallen foe. On the contrary, he offered to assist that smitten scorner
to rise, but Malines preferred in the meantime to lie still.
It is scarcely necessary to say that the emigrants watched this short
but sharp encounter with keen interest, and when it was ended gave vent
to a cheer, in which surprise was quite as clearly expressed as
satisfaction.
"Now, I tell 'ee what it is, lads," said Joe Binney, striking his great
right fist into the palm of his left hand enthusiastically, "I never
seed the likes o' that since I was a leetle booy, and I've got a motion
for to propose, as they say at meetin's. It's this, that we makes
Master Dom'nik Riggundy capting over us all."
Up started Teddy Malone, with a slap of his thigh. "And it's mesilf
as'll second that motion--only we should make him governor of the whole
island, if not king!"
"Hear! hear!" shouted a decided majority of the party. "Let him be
king!"
When silence had been partially restored Dominick politely but firmly
declined the honour, giving it as his opinion that the fairest way would
be to have a republic.
"A republic! No; what we wants is a despotism," said David Binney, who
had up to this point remained silent, "a regular despot--a howtocrat--is
what we wants to keep us in order."
"Hump!" exclaimed Hugh Morris, contemptuously, "if you'd on'y let
Malines have his way you'd soon have a despot an' a howtocrat as 'ud
keep yer noses to the grindstone."
"Mrs Lynch," whispered Otto, who had hitherto stood beside the widow
watching the proceedings with inexpressible glee, "you get up an'
propose that Pina should be _queen_!"
That this suggestion came upon the widow with a shock of surprise, as
well as approval, was obvious from the wide-eyed stare, with which for a
moment she regarded the boy, and from her subsequent action. Taking a
bold and masculine stride to the front of the disputers, she turned
about and faced them.
"Howld yer tongues now, boys, all of you, and listen to what your
grandmother's got to say."
A shout of laughter cut her short for a few seconds.
"That's right, old 'ooman, out with it."
"Sure, if ye'd stop your noise I'd out wid it fast enough. Now, then,
here ye are, nivver a man of ye able to agree wid the others; an' the
raisin's not far to seek--for yer all wrong togither. It would nivver
do to make wan o' you a king--not even Joe here, for he knows nixt to
nothin', nor yet Mister Rig Gundy, though he can fight like a man, for
it's not a king's business to fight. No, take my word for it; what ye
want is a _queen_--"
A loud explosion of mirth drowned the rest. "Hurrah! for Queen Lynch,"
cried one. "The Royal blood of owld Ireland for ivver!" shouted Malone.
"I wouldn't," said the widow indignantly, "condescind to reign over
sitch a nation o' pigs, av ye was to go down on yer bare knees an'
scrape them to the bone. No, it's English blood, or Spanitch, I don't
rightly know which, that I'm drivin' at, for where could ye find a
better, or honester, or purtier queen than that swate creetur, Miss
Pauline Rig Gundy?"
The idea seemed to break upon the assembly as a light in a dark place.
For a moment they seemed struck dumb; then there burst forth such a
cheer as showed that the greater part of those present sympathised
heartily with the proposal.
"I know'd ye'd agree to it. Sure, men always does when a sensible woman
spakes. You see, Queen Pauline the First--"
"Hurrah! for Queen Pauline the First," yelled the settlers, with mingled
cheers and laughter.
"Queen Pauline the First, ye may be sure," continued the widow, "would
nivver try to kape order wid her fists, nor yit wid shoutin' or
swearin'. An' then, av coorse, it would be aisy to make Mister Duminick
or Joe Binney Prime Minister, an' little Buxley Chancler o' the
Checkers, or whatever they calls it. Now, think over it, boys, an' good
luck be wid ye."
They did think over it, then and there, in real earnest, and the
possibility of an innocent, sensible, gentle, just, sympathetic, and
high-minded queen reigning over them proved so captivating to these
rough fellows, that the idea which had been at first received in jest
crystallised into a serious purpose. At this point Otto ventured to
raise his voice in this first deliberation of the embryo State.
"Friends," he said, with an air of modesty, which, we fear, was foreign
to his nature, "although I can only appear before you as a boy, my big
brother has this day proved himself to be so much more than an ordinary
man that I feel somehow as if I had a right to his surplus manhood,
being next-of-kin, and therefore I venture to address you as a sort of
man." (Hear, hear!) "I merely wish to ask a question. May I ask to be
the bearer of the news of this assembly's determination to--the--the
_Queen_?"
"Yes--yes--of course--av course," were the immediate replies.
Otto waited not for more, but sped to their new hut, in which the Queen
was busy preparing dinner at the time.
"Pina," exclaimed the boy, bursting in, "will you consent to be the
Queen of Big Island?"
"Come, Otto; don't talk nonsense. I hope Dom is with you. Dinner is
much overdone already."
"No, but I'm not talking nonsense," cried Otto. "I say, will you
consent to be a queen--a _real_ queen--Pina the First, eh?"
Hereupon he gave his wondering sister a graphic account of the recent
meeting, and fight, and final decision.
"But they don't really mean it, you know," said Pauline, laughing.
"But they do really mean it," returned Otto; "and, by the way, if _you_
become a queen won't that necessarily make me and Dom princes?"
As Dominick entered the hut at that moment he joined in the laugh which
this question created, and corroborated his brother's statement.
In this cheerful frame of mind the new Royal Family sat down to dinner.