Home at Last
In one hour from the time the _Ben Ledi’s_ anchor was dropped off
Sydney Cove, C. B., Mary and Mr. Stewart were in the fine offices
of the firm with which the latter gentleman had deposited the small
remainder of his fortune, and explaining as briefly as possible
the vicissitudes which had attended their journeying thither. They
were welcomed with great cordiality by the head of the firm, Mr.
Oliphant, who at once invited them to come and be his guests in his
beautiful home on the shores of Wooloomoolloo Bay, where they could
rest and refresh themselves while they made their preparations for
the last stage of their journey. They all smiled at the idea of their
needing either rest or refreshment after the luxurious life they had
been leading of late, but gratefully accepted the good man’s offer
nevertheless.
Now visitors to the Queen City of the South are usually captivated at
once by her charms, especially with the wondrous beauty of her glorious
harbour, and their enjoyment is always heightened by the delightful
hospitality of the citizens. But although neither of the three friends
could be said to be insensible to either the beauties of nature or the
wonders of man’s handiwork, they were all filled with a great longing
for the home about which C. B. had spoken so lovingly, and whose simple
delights he had so often pictured to them. And therefore, when Mr.
Oliphant at his cheerful table that night produced a programme of
visits and sightseeing that he and his wife had arranged for their
guests, he received somewhat of a shock to find that they manifested
not the slightest desire to avail themselves of his thoughtful kindness.
He had been amazed at the refusal of his guests to taste the costly
wines he had set before them, wondered too at the extreme simplicity
of their tastes, which made them neglect nearly all the carefully
prepared dishes on the table and content themselves with the plainest
fare, but now to find that they were careless of the wonders of Sydney,
both natural and artificial--well, it was incomprehensible to him,
and his wife’s chagrin was so great that she could hardly conceal her
vexation. Now the guests knew that as they were people of practically
no importance socially, for Mr. Oliphant had no idea that Mr. Stewart
had so recently been a millionaire, this solicitude for their comfort
and pleasure could only arise from sheer kindness of heart, so they
hastened to explain. The task of doing so fell upon Mr. Stewart, for
C. B. had been strangely reticent of late, his usual fluency of speech
seemed to have deserted him.
“Dear host and hostess,” said the old gentleman, “nine months ago
when I was hastening home to San Francisco from a world-tour with my
dear daughter here and her mother, now with God, had anyone told me
that I should turn a cold shoulder to hospitality such as you offer
us I should have laughed in their faces. For we were all very keen on
sightseeing, and I was besides a business man to my finger-tips; in
fact it seemed to me almost the only thing that made life worth living,
for to make money rapidly and spend it royally. I do not feel inclined
to tell you all the story now, and indeed it would take too long, of
how thoroughly my views and my whole life have been changed.
“I have lost my dear wife and almost the whole of my fortune, but I am
to-day a happier man than I have ever been in my whole life. I have
learned from that dear fellow there what it is to really live, and how
little we really need in this world in order to be truly happy. I am
more glad that he is my daughter’s husband than I should be if she were
the wife of a reigning sovereign, and I am looking forward with great
longing to spend the rest of my days in his peaceful home on Norfolk
Island, a place which perhaps you know something about?”
“I know there is such a place at no great distance from here, less than
1,000 miles anyway, and I know too that it has had an awful history as
a convict settlement, but since that black stain has been wiped out
from our Australasian Colonies I cannot say that I know anything of its
history. I know at any rate that we have no trade with it, so if there
is a settlement there it must be self-supporting, I should think.”
Then C. B., being appealed to by the gentle eyes of his wife, told his
host and hostess the story of the emigration to Norfolk Island of a
large number of the Pitcairn Island folk, descendants of the mutineers
of the _Bounty_, while they sat in dumb surprise.
But when the recital was over Mrs. Oliphant looked at her husband, and,
shrugging her shoulders, said--
“There’s no accounting for tastes, Harry, but I think such a life as
that would drive me mad within a month. How can people go back to
such barbarism as that when once they have escaped from it? That’s
wonderful, but it’s ten times more wonderful that people like you,”
nodding at Mr. Stewart and his daughter, “should be attracted by such
a life and leave all the delights of civilization for it. However,
it’s no business of ours to try and persuade you, presumably you have
decided fully on your course?”
“Indeed we have, ma’am,” said Mary; “and you see, although we are
fully persuaded ourselves, we do not seek to make converts to our way
of thinking, nor are we following any new religion. We ourselves have
been converted mainly by the spectacle of a good life--that of my
husband--whom if you knew, you would say of him as nearly every one
else says, that he is a man after God’s own mind. Now we should not
have told you these things because we felt we should be misunderstood,
but we wanted you to know that it was not churlishness nor ingratitude
that made us refuse your very kind and generous offer.”
Mr. Oliphant made a gesture as if washing his hands of the whole
affair, as if indeed he felt frankly that it was quite beyond him, and
said, “Well then, Mr. Stewart, perhaps you will tell me in what way as
your agent here I can serve you?”
“That I can,” responded Mr. Stewart cheerfully. “First of all, I want
the captain of the _Ben Ledi_ paid for our passage hither from where he
took us on board. I do not believe he will ask exorbitant rates, but I
must tell you that we have had first-class accommodation, and I should
not consider $350 too dear. I should object to paying more than that.
Secondly, I want you to find us either a vessel that we can charter at
a low rate, a schooner, say, to convey us to Norfolk Island, or perhaps
for less money you may be able to induce some owner to let his vessel,
bound somewhere else among the islands, go out of her way a little to
land us there. Lastly, we wish to buy rather a large quantity of goods,
tools of various kinds, clothing, books, and above all, a first-class
American organ. And I think that is all. Only of course we should like
despatch.”
Mr. Oliphant, who had made notes while Mr. Stewart was speaking, turned
and replied--
“I think I have all your instructions now, sir, and you may rely upon
me to put your business through as soon as I can. And if there is
anything else I can do or my wife can do for Mrs. Adams command us. We
can and do honour and respect you for your opinions, even though we
totally disagree with them. And now perhaps you would like to retire,
as it is getting late.”
C. B. looked wistfully at his wife and father-in-law, and then said
meekly, but as if he could not help speaking--
“Have you any objection, sir, and Mrs. Oliphant, to our having a little
prayer together before we part for the night?”
A look of consternation came over the lady’s face, almost of terror,
and she turned appealingly to her husband, who replied immediately,
“I’m sure you’ll excuse us. That sort of thing is not at all in our
line. This is Liberty Hall and of course you may do what pleases you,
but we could not take part in your exercises, it would be hypocrisy.”
C. B. rose at once bowing courteously and saying--“I hope you’ll
forgive me for mentioning the matter, I have no wish to intrude our
views upon you. Good-night”; and with mutual expressions of good will
they separated. But as soon as Mrs. Oliphant and her husband reached
their chamber the lady’s indignation broke forth, and she said many
bitter things about the impudence of these strangers suggesting such a
thing in a house where they were guests.
This difference however did not affect her hospitable attentions to her
guests for, as if repentant of her feelings towards them, she really
toiled hard during the week of their stay to make them as comfortable
as could be, while her husband was certainly as good as his word.
So strenuously did he exert himself that by that day week he had
arranged everything for them, the goods they needed were all packed in
convenient parcels for transshipment, C. B. being the director of this
part of the business, and a handy brigantine, the _Lady Head_, bound to
Fiji, was chartered to land them and their belongings at Norfolk Island
with the least possible delay.
The morning of their departure broke bright and clear, with a fresh
westerly breeze, and they bade Mrs. Oliphant and her three dear
children an affectionate and grateful farewell. But nothing could blind
them to the fact that she was almost nervously anxious to have them
gone, for as she afterwards confessed to a few chosen acquaintances,
they made her feel strangely uneasy, made her feel as if she were a
godless wicked creature, while all the time behaving themselves with
the utmost meekness and courtesy. And they on their part were hungry
for the place that C. B. was never tired of telling them about, and
reminding them that God might there be worshipped continually without
its being thought a strange thing to do, where no one felt bound to
dislike you because you admitted that the love of God was the chief
factor in your life and where, while living an active happy life with
all your God-given faculties in full play there was no brutal collision
at every turn with the forces of evil regnant in the world.
The _Lady Head_ with all sail set sped swiftly seaward, our three
friends sitting on her little poop with no eyes for the beauty of the
shores they were leaving. Every day brought Mary and her father to a
clearer understanding of the thorny way C. B. must have travelled since
leaving his home, for even Mr. Oliphant, honest, courteous and urbane
as he had been, was obviously glad to see them go. They felt that for
men and women truly filled with the love of God there was no room in
the world that hated the Master. The thought that there was anything
cowardly in thus fleeing from the scene of conflict did not occur to
them as perhaps it should have done: I do not know. They only knew that
they were going to a place of peace and that sufficed them.
They had no pleasant passage. The vessel was small, the crew were rough
and brutal, and the language they heard around them hurt them very
much, but nothing could disturb the serenity of their souls. So deeply
had they become imbued with the spirit that C. B. had always manifested
that they had no doubts, they felt that they were going home. And it
was with something of a shock that they learned from C. B. that since
his departure in the _Eliza Adams_, he had heard no word of his people.
It was but slight though, one look at his face with its calm assurance
of all being well gave them a mild rebuke. Of course all would be well.
Contrary winds and heavy weather delayed them a good deal, but the
little vessel if uncomfortable was staunch, and they were proof against
bodily discomfort. Yet when on the fourteenth day from Sydney Heads
they sighted the well-known bay (to C. B.), Mary and her father were
seized with a strange trembling, and the stern old man, so wonderfully
softened, could not help a tear now and then stealing down his ruddy
cheeks. They stood in, and when within easy distance of the shore hove
to, C. B.’s keen glance detecting a boat putting off before any one
else did. Swiftly it came towards them, while C. B., holding his wife
with one hand and his father-in-law with the other, bade them observe
how she was handled.
Suddenly he gave a joyful shout, “My father! Oh, thank God, thank
God!” Yes, it was Philip, with all his old vigour handling the steer
oar, and, as he skilfully swung the boat alongside, he looked up and
recognized his firstborn. He snatched at a rope flung to him, sprang
on board and folded his son to his breast in a silent ecstasy, while
Mary and Mr. Stewart stood back trembling and waited till the sacred
greeting was over.
Suddenly C. B. sprang away from his father’s arms and, seizing Mary,
cried, “Here, father, here’s another daughter for you: this is my
darling wife; and here is her father, a brother for you.”
Philip gravely embraced his daughter-in-law, his clear eyes appearing
to search out her very soul. She, poor girl, now that she was where she
had so longed to be, was for a moment just a little dismayed at the
aspect of Philip. While her whole heart cried shame at the thought, it
was there, that this noble-looking man’s rough sleeveless shirt, coarse
short pants and bare gnarled feet were repugnant to her. Life-long
prejudices are indeed hard to overcome.
Surely then it should be accounted unto her for righteousness that she
bravely took those ignoble feelings by the throat and choked them,
envying her father as she did so the ease and grace with which he
greeted the roughly clad man before him. But then he had long ago known
the true value of clothes, and being besides a rare judge of a man when
he saw him he had mentally appraised Philip at once as being another
C. B. only more so.
But neither C. B. nor his father thought of these things. C. B.
indeed, shaken out of his usual calm, could hardly restrain himself
sufficiently to explain about the goods they had brought with them;
he was so impatient to bring Mary and his mother together. But it
was certain that one boat could not possibly carry the boat load
that was waiting, and so it was decided that Philip and Mr. Stewart
should remain on board while C. B. took Mary ashore and sent the two
boats back. Such a precaution was necessary, for the character of
neither skipper nor crew of the _Lady Head_ stood very high, and it
was quite possible that in the absence of the owners of the freight
they might take it into their heads to up helm and be off in a fit
of absent-mindedness as it were. Such things have happened in those
latitudes before now.
So Mary was carefully assisted into the boat, and crouching low in the
stern sheets she gazed upwards with loving admiration of the noble form
of her husband as erect at the great steer-oar he swung the boat’s head
landward. Every stroke of the way she watched him, nor blenched for
a breath, even when the enormous shoreward rushing billow poised the
craft like a feather upon its foaming crest, a vast green slope before
and behind, down one of which it seemed that they must roll and be
swallowed up.
Presently the boat touched the beach, the crew sprang out, dug their
feet into the shingle as the wave receded, and then with a great cry of
delight as the next billow came in ran her up with it high and dry. And
C. B. sprang out, turned, lifted his wife like a babe in his powerful
arms, and running up the slope with her placed her in the arms of his
mother. Grace took Mary to her bosom while her son said with tears
streaming down, “Mother, I have brought you home a daughter, my dear
wife.”
And the friends catching the word shouted aloud for joy, while Grace,
holding her new daughter a little way from her, looked in her sweet
face and murmured--
“Dear one, may God abundantly bless you and make your married life as
happy as mine has been. Come home and see your brothers and sisters,
they will all welcome you to their hearts as I do. Come, you are tired
and excited, but in our home you will find peace and rest.” And Mary
went with her mother, her mind all awhirl. In those few moments she
realized how fully she had severed herself from all the past, and with
Grace’s strong arm round her and her husband striding by her side knew
of a certainty that she had done well.
That was the most exciting day in the history of the little community.
What with the landing of the very necessary and welcome consignment,
listening to the tale C. B. had to tell, welcoming the fine old
American gentleman Mr. Stewart, and occasionally breaking out into
songs of praise, it was midnight before the friends sought their homes,
and even then there were many who did not sleep until morning.
My story is really done, for although in novels generally the story
ends with the marriage of the lovers, mine has not done so, but has
carried them on through the trials and developments that always follow
marriage, which after all is to most people but the beginning of a life
story. It would be quite easy to spend many pages in describing how the
new-comers were introduced to the many quiet sweet joys of their chosen
home, as easy as it would be to find fault with them for quitting the
world of effort for this peaceful nook. But to do so would be merely
repeating the earlier descriptions in the book, and so I do what
seems to me the right thing, merely record that with an ease that was
marvellous Mary and her father slipped into their allotted places in
the simple island scheme of existence.
And presently they wondered how they had ever been able to bear the
burden of so-called civilization, and the thousand and one miseries
which the possession of wealth and the maintaining of a place in
society, supposed to be incumbent upon the wealthy, brings in its
train. Mary summed up her feelings upon the subject to her father one
Sunday night when after the usual united meeting for prayer and praise
they all sat upon the verdant hillside in the warm moonlight by saying--
“Daddy dear, I do not believe we ever knew what it really was to live,
and I am sure that we had no conception of the lovingkindness of God
until I met my Bounty Boy.”
[Illustration: Logo]
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|Transcriber’s note: |
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|Obvious typographic errors have been corrected. |
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