A Troublesome Appreciation
After all, the most important work of C. B.’s life was steadily
progressing without hindrance of any kind, the spiritual education of
Captain Taber. That fine man, in spite of his late advice to C. B.
about humility, was now exceedingly humble himself and ready to admit
his absolute indebtedness to C. B. for his present peace of mind, and
what in religious terminology would be called his growth in grace.
He certainly was in some respects an entirely changed man since his
accident, although it must not for a moment be supposed that he was
ever anything but just, kind and brave. It was only in the one thing
needful that he was then lacking, and that had now been supplied
through the agency of his friend, so that he had become a centre of
spirituality from which continually emanated a sweet aroma of content
and love of all mankind.
The captain and chief officer of the _Golden Gate_ spent much time
with Captain Taber, although it must be said that they did not take
to C. B. very much. The sea tradition was strong with them, and as
they looked upon C. B. as a sort of menial in his personal attendance
upon the captain, they felt that discipline forbade them giving him
any opportunity to impose. He never noticed their reserve, in fact he
was almost impervious to the slights that most of us resent so much,
because of his want of self-consciousness, which went a long way to
account for his happiness. As soon as either the captain or the mate
came to have a yarn with his patient he would, first making sure that
all was in order, retire on deck, where he was always in request, and
remain there until his friend was alone again. In this way he made
the acquaintance of nearly everybody in the ship and enjoyed himself
very much, especially when the vessel drew into the bad-weather zone,
and gales of wind with heavy seas kept the passengers below. But one
afternoon, as he was engaged in earnest conversation with one of the
quartermasters whose turn it was to look after the promenade deck, he
saw with a thrill of horror a female emerge from the saloon, cross the
deck to the lee rail, deliberately mount it and topple overboard. As
soon as he had seen her making for the rail he started to run towards
her, so that he was on the spot almost in time to catch her by her
clothing. He just missed her, however, and with a roar of “Stop the
ship!” that was heard high above the gale, he plunged after her. A few
mighty strokes and he was by her side, only just in time to snatch her
long hair and fight his way from the ship to avoid the indraught of the
propeller, which if not stopped in time means awful mutilation to a
body in the water, and the strongest swimmer coming within its vortex
is entirely helpless.
The ship was stopped so promptly that he was but a couple of hundred
yards away, but the sea was running very heavily with breaking crests,
and great as was his strength and skill, the burden of a woman to
support who could still struggle was a task that could not be endured
for long. As usual in merchant ships, especially steamers in those
days, the boats were secured as if they were never intended to be
used; not only so, but because of gross neglect the lashings and
gripes were rusted and clogged with paint, while the boats themselves,
never having been in the water for months nor having any water in them
through being carefully covered in, were leaky as sieves.
Consequently it was nearly twenty minutes before the boat was in the
water, and when she was, for lack of ability to handle her it looked
for some time as if her lowering was going to cost several more lives.
And all this time Captain Taber in his berth was suffering mental
tortures, having been informed of the cause of the uproar by the
Japanese berth attendant. Nor was his anxiety selfish. He could not
bear the idea of his faithful friend being done to death like that, he
to whom the water was as familiar as the dry land. At last in his agony
he betook himself to prayer and was immediately comforted. Not only so
but the quiet that had reigned for some time gave place to tramplings
overhead and shoutings, showing that something had been or was being
done.
It was fortunate that the vessel had stopped so promptly, as well as
that she had such little way on her at the time, steaming as she was
head to sea. Otherwise it would have been impossible to save the two
lives owing to the bungling in boat handling. As it was, when the boat
did reach them C. B. was just at the end of his resources, and when
lifted into the boat was almost as far gone as the woman he had saved.
Getting back to the ship, although she was handled with much skill,
was a series of wonderful escapes, and but for the promptitude of the
second mate, who suggested pouring a lot of oil over the lee bow as
the boat was brought alongside, which smoothed the turbulent sea and
permitted them to hook on the boat with comparative ease, there must
have been disaster.
The two rescued ones were lifted out of the boat in the presence of
all the passengers, who had entirely forgotten their seasickness and
debility in their anxiety. The bodies were borne below and the doctor
worked upon the woman with the greatest perseverance, being at last
rewarded by feeling her heart beat and some warmth come from her
breast. From thence the task was easy, and the first to convey to the
anxiously waiting skipper below was C. B. himself, who apologized for
causing his beloved charge so much anxiety, but explained that he could
not see the woman drown.
Then the skipper broke down, for he was very weak, and cried like a
child, sobbing out that he had felt that if he had lost his friend he
must have died too, and that he could never be sufficiently grateful to
God for sparing him. While they were thus enjoying their reunion came
the captain of the ship, who was visibly moved, and, holding out his
hand to C. B., said--
“Young man, I’m proud to have you aboard my ship, for you are indeed a
man. You may hardly believe it, but the husband of that lady whose life
you have saved is only just aware of what has happened. Both he and she
have been shockingly ill, for it seems that they are very bad sailors.
And she, in addition to horrible seasickness, had a raging toothache,
which must have driven her mad for the time. She says that she quite
remembers jumping overboard, says it seemed to her to be the only way
out of her misery, but she is very sorry indeed to have given so much
trouble. Neither she nor her husband realize yet what the trouble has
been, but their seasickness has left them and I guess you’ll hear from
them to-morrow. Hope you’re none the worse for your anxiety, Taber, now
you’ve got your chum back again. Now I must be off, for the weather’s
pretty bad still.” And he strode away.
Next morning the weather had become beautiful again and C. B., having
seen his patient all right, was about to take a stroll forward when he
was seized by a man with red eyes and wild air, who said--
“Are you the hero who preserved my dear one for me?”
C. B. was completely taken by surprise and stammered out something,
he knew not what in reply. But almost immediately there came bustling
round a crowd of the passengers, as full of excitement as if the
ship had been on fire, and poor C. B. wished he was anywhere out of
it. Still the man who had first accosted him kept hold of his hand,
occasionally patting it and murmuring disjointed sentences, until at
last the captain of the ship burst into the group, saying--
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, this isn’t fair to our friend. As for you,
sir,” turning to the man who was still holding C. B.’s hand, “you must
think of yourself for your wife’s sake as well as your own. We shan’t
be into San Francisco for three days, and you’ll have plenty of time
between now and then to thank Mr. Christmas all you want.”
C. B. cast a grateful look upon the captain and fled forrard among the
crew, where he was received as one of themselves, no fuss being made
over him, but lots of questions asked about his swimming powers. Here
he was quite at home, for such was the respect that every one down
there felt for him that they modified their usual full-flavoured speech
because they knew it was unpleasant to him, although the boss of the
forecastle, a burly Californian, said after he had gone that he felt
quite weak with the strain he had put upon himself in the matter of
speech. “But,” he added, “I don’t grudge it him, for he’s the whitest
man I’ve struck for a long, long spell, if he can’t stand a cuss word.”
The husband of the rescued lady having perfectly recovered begged
to be allowed to meet C. B. again, and tender his thanks in company
with his wife. So the meeting came off, when it appeared that they
were a wealthy American pair, named Ogden, travelling in search of
health, childless and most tenderly attached to each other. At first
the gentleman’s proposal was to adopt C. B. as their son with all the
advantages of such a position, but to this our friend returned so
decided a negative that it was not again mooted. Then the pair wished
to make C. B. a present of a large sum of money, to which he replied
that he had no use for it, that he had done nothing that he would not
have done for a beggar, and that he hoped they would think no more of
the matter.
Thus coming to a deadlock there was no means of ridding themselves of
their almost intolerable burden of gratitude, until C. B. said--
“I cannot take anything from you, not because of pride, but because I
don’t want money; I hate the idea of getting fond of it, for I have
learned how evil a thing it can be. But if you must do something to
please me, help the poor whom I hear so much about and don’t know
anything of. Our Lord says that the poor ye have always with you, and
so you can never be short of means of doing good if you have got a
lot of money. In any case, I won’t take your money; I’ve done nothing
for it, and the only thing it could do for me would be to make me
discontented with what I now see to be the happiest life on earth,
that is, my dear island home.”
Gratitude and the business instinct struggled for the mastery in
Mr. Ogden’s breast, coupled perhaps with a little resentment at C.
B.’s attitude, for he was one of those men who hate being under an
obligation. At last he went to Captain Taber and asked him to take C.
B. in hand and show him the error of his ways. Of course Captain Taber
flatly refused, knowing C. B. as he did, while his own fine honest
pride gloried in the same quality being possessed by C. B., as he
thought. So then Mr. Ogden was compelled to give up, and went about
among the other passengers discontentedly airing his grievance and
causing much mirth at the unusual spectacle of a man growling because
he couldn’t get another man to accept his money.
The passage drew near to its close, and C. B., after rather anxious
watching of his patient, came to the conclusion that there was some
slight improvement in his strength. In consultation with the doctor
that gentleman pronounced him as strong as he could ever expect to
be, and that it would entirely depend upon his treatment during the
long crossing of the Continent whether he would have a short or a
fairly long lease of life with his friends. Upon this information C.
B. devoted all his time to getting news about the travelling, best
methods, little tips about accommodation, hotels, etc., secretly
grieving for his lack of experience which might prevent him doing the
best possible for his friend. The gentleman to whom he applied for
information, purely by accident, was the millionaire father of Miss
Stewart, who was apparently delighted to be of service to him. And
during their conversation C. B. said in perfect innocence--
“I hope Miss Stewart is well; I haven’t seen her about the deck lately.
I suppose I notice it more because she used to be the life and soul of
the ship.”
Old man Stewart bent his shaggy eyebrows upon the speaker and replied
very slowly and distinctly--
“Yes, I guess her health’s all right as far as we know. She isn’t what
she used to be though, an’ I’ll admit that her keeping down as she has
done is more than a little puzzling to her mother and me. And I’d about
half made up my mind to ask you if you could give us any idea of what
ailed her?”
The face that C. B. turned to Mr. Stewart was a study for a picture of
complete blank astonishment. For a few moments he could not speak, but
sat with his mouth partly open, while Mr. Stewart never relaxed his
steady gaze into the young man’s face. Then he found his tongue and
said with a sort of burst--
“Why, Mr. Stewart, what can you mean? Except at the outset of the
passage, when she arranged for me to tell the story of my life, I have
not exchanged a dozen words with your daughter, nor have I for the last
fortnight scarcely had her in my mind. It suddenly dawned upon me as
I talked with you that I had not seen her about in her usual lively
fashion, and on the impulse of the moment I asked you of her health.
And now you say you thought of asking _me_ if I had any idea what was
ailing her!”
Mr. Stewart’s brow relaxed, his grim mouth formed a smile, and he said
cheerily--
“All right, sonny, I’m glad to see I hain’t made no mistake in ye.
Forget what I said and put it down to an old man’s anxiety for his only
child. An’ now about that journey of yours, I should recommend”--and
the old gentleman went off into minutest details of trains, hotels,
etc., in which C. B. followed painfully after him, feeling at every
word how far from this wonderful world of struggle and stress he was
removed. But what the reader will think of C. B.’s density with regard
to Miss Stewart I do not know. It is hard for us to believe in a fancy
free, unconceited youngster now, one who could have such a question
put to him by a father concerning his daughter, as Mr. Stewart had
just done to C. B., and not feel flattered and more conceited than
before. But the old man showed his wonderful knowledge of human nature
in dealing with C. B. as he did. In spite of his cynical disbelief in
most, if not all, his fellow-men he paid unconscious tribute to C. B.
in taking the step he did, and when he found his estimate justified he
was inclined to be puffed up and say, “I told you so, I knew he was
twenty-four carat stamped on every link. My judgment against the world.”
Many people, however, would exercise their privilege of sitting in
judgment and call C. B. just plain fool. They are welcome, since such
an _ex parte_ statement does not affect the case. I must go on to say
that C. B. dismissed the whole matter from his mind, which indeed,
as the distance from the Golden Gate of its namesake was measured by
hours, became more full of anxiety concerning his helpless charge
than ever he had known it before. Then came the arrival, the breaking
up of pleasant little coteries such as are formed in a few days on
ship-board, and in many cases the parting from people whom you would
long to spend your life with but have to part from and usually see no
more.
In accordance with a pre-arranged plan C. B. made his friend
comfortable and did not worry him until the rest of the passengers
were out of the vessel, so that he could take a quiet, unhurried
farewell of his friends the officers of the ship. Everybody had gone;
none, however, without a hearty handshake and a pleasant word for C.
B., many assuring him of what was really true--that they would never
forget him, when a shore boat came alongside bearing a man in some
sort of a uniform, who as soon as he came aboard inquired for Mr. C.
B. Adams. It took some little time for the unaccustomed address to be
realized, but at last the message was handed to C. B. and the messenger
said with easy nonchalance that he’d wait for an answer. And subsiding
into a deck chair produced his toothpick and made himself comfortable.
The missive was brief and businesslike. It ran--
“Private Car Mary A. Stewart waits at the dépôt to receive Captain
Taber, Mr. C. B. Adams, and any two friends they may select for
through transportation to New Bedford, Massachusetts. All charges
are paid through to destination, and all railway men are advised
to render any aid or service needed. It is advised that the party
start with the least possible delay though no time is fixed.
OLIVER P. STARBUCK, Gen. Mgr.”
C. B. simply could not believe the plain statement made, though it was
impossible to misunderstand it. So he handed the letter to Captain
Taber, who read and murmured, “Thank God. You see,” he went on to C.
B., “that money can do something. I was dreading in every fibre of my
bones that awful journey home, and here with a stroke of his pen one of
our many wealthy friends, who does not think enough of the act to let
us know who he is so that we may thank him, makes the way smooth and
plain for us from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Ah me, I’m being highly
favoured, and I more than half suspect that I ought to thank you for
it. Now don’t get up on your hind legs and make a fuss, because I feel
sure I’m right.”
The skipper of the _Golden Gate_ was called in consultation, and he
agreed that this royal courtesy must have been paid by one of the
passengers who wished to remain unknown. And he said that he could
not help wishing that he was coming with them, for his wife was in
Liverpool, and he had not seen her for three years, while such a
chance might never occur again as long as he lived. Be sure that C. B.
cordially echoed the captain’s wish, for he dreaded the ordeal which he
felt awaited him more than he had ever feared anything before, but only
because of his anxiety for the helpless man under his charge.
However, as in all such cases, there was little time for regrets or
speculation, the time pressed and departure could not be delayed. So
gathering all together C. B. and his charge were conveyed ashore, and
through the turbulent life of the city to the station, or dépôt as
it is called in the United States. The driver of the conveyance they
chartered upon getting ashore knew his business thoroughly and took
them straight to where the private car was standing in lonely majesty,
side tracked. And as they drew up alongside of it there appeared, to
their intense astonishment, the gaunt form of Mr. Stewart, who was
accompanied by his daughter.
A look of perfect satisfaction was upon both their faces which changed
into an amused smile as they noted the stare of perfect bewilderment
upon the countenance of C. B. It remained there until Captain Taber
said, “Come, Christmas, what’s wrong with ye? have ye seen a ghost?”
Then C. B. started, apologized, and explained that somehow he had never
expected to see any of the ship’s late company again; he felt that
they were scattered far and wide. Then Mr. Stewart, having seen the
captain carefully placed within the palatial car and made comfortable
on the beautifully upholstered lounge with plenty of soft cushions, sat
down by his side, while C. B. stood looking around him in dumbfounded
amazement at the somewhat crude splendours of the car.
Beckoning his daughter to a seat by his side the worthy American began
his explanation by saying--
“When I learned that you had been invited to make the journey across
the Continent in a private car I hoped that you would have had company
that would be helpful to you. And just as I heard that you were going
alone I received a telegram from Boston, calling me over there on
urgent business, so I calculated that perhaps you wouldn’t mind my
daughter and myself being your guests for a week. We may be of some use
if you can put up with us.”
Captain Taber turned upon the speaker a look of grateful affection and
murmured--
“Don’t be afraid, Mr. Stewart, that I shall make a fuss, but do let me
say God bless you for your lovingkindness in lending us this car, for I
knew it was yours as soon as I heard the name, and for watching over us
since. He,” jerking his thumb in C. B.’s direction, “won’t bother you,
I know, won’t bother his head a little bit to whom the car belongs,
looks upon the whole affair as just another instance of God Almighty’s
particular care. I confess I can’t think yet that the Lord looks after
me to that extent, and yet I don’t know but what I will before long.
If anything could make me it would be association with that fellow.
He’s--but there, I can’t talk about him without kinder choking! Must
be getting weak in the head.”
Then they passed to other topics, Mr. Stewart proving himself to be
a golden talker upon an immense variety of subjects, while the car,
having been very gently attached to the engine, began to glide out of
the station with an easy motion almost akin to that of a ship, the
great machine being beautifully balanced upon many springs so that even
the casually laid road-bed did not make it jolt, only sway and roll
slightly, keeping up the nautical comparison. Meanwhile Miss Stewart
had taken C. B. out upon the observation platform and was pointing out
to him the various wonders through which they were passing, finding
intense enjoyment in his utter bewilderment and childlike curiosity.
And when it dawned upon her that he had never even seen a railroad
before, hardly realized that such a thing existed, she experienced all
the pleasure of a generous nature at being able to give another such a
novel series of delightful new sensations.
And such sensations! C. B. was always so calm and satisfied with
the way that he believed God was leading him that any one, even his
intimate friends, might have been forgiven for calling him stolid,
unimpressionable, really not competent to feel very much. But then
no one could enter into the quiet sanctuary of his mind where sat
enthroned his Eternal Friend and Guide. Occasionally, as Miss Stewart
pointed out to him some new marvel of Nature, such as travellers have
long chanted the praise of, on that wonderful railroad line from San
Francisco to New York, he would hold up his hands and murmur--
“How wonderful and glorious are your works, O my Father.” And at such
times she would gaze upon him with awe as feeling that he was in a
very special sense favoured by the Most High.
Then when the train flew along some swaying cobweb-like trestle
bridge with the mist beneath hiding the awful depths and a suggestion
of impalpability, of travelling upon the track of a moonbeam, was
impossible to avoid, she would cling to him in real terror, feeling,
as all sensitive intelligences must in those situations, how tenuous
a thread separated them from the next world. But she always failed to
see any change in the steady gaze of his eye, or to feel any tremor
in his firmly knit muscles, not even when they swung out around some
tremendous curve on the scarp of a mountain and the struts beneath them
sprung and complained at their weight.
At last she felt a little piqued; it seemed so strange that this
entirely inexperienced man could be so free from any apprehension while
she who had seen it all so often before trembled to her heart’s core.
Was it insensibility or inability to grasp the wonderful facts, or was
it superiority of mind to all things happening upon earth because of
intimacy with the Creator of all things? And so she asked him why he
seemed so unimpressed with all these marvels that all other people held
in such awe and reverence; did he not really think them very wonderful
and inspiring? And he, turning his deep eyes from her, answered--
“My dear young lady, it _is_ all very wonderful, but when I look up
at the stars and the sun, or out upon the sea, I feel more impressed
at these glorious works of my Father. And I feel very small but very
happy; I think that He who does all these things by the word of His
Power condescends to notice me, to assure me that I am precious in His
sight. I am not unconscious or dense really--I do admire and wonder,
but I cannot for one moment forget the Glory of God which is to this
amazing show as the substance is to the shadow. I feel much more than
this, but I cannot say, I only love and worship.”
Alas for Miss Stewart’s happiness, she had grown to love this simple
stalwart man with an intensity that frightened her, as she had felt
that she was absolutely proof against any feeling of the kind. To all
her openness and kindness he responded respectfully yet almost as her
equal, but though the invitation to do so was almost palpable he never
overstepped an invisible line drawn between them. Old man Stewart was
indeed wise when he decided that this was a man to be trusted to the
limit.
And so the great car sped on through freezing cold and scorching heat,
parched up desert and glowing prairie, until it drew near to the young
giant of the West, Chicago, that centre of the marvels of the United
States, humming with evil, fragrant with good, but in any case fully,
luxuriantly alive.