A WORD AT THE HARBOUR-SIDE.
The next Sunday I was fool enough to go to church, for Doctor Blair was
announced to preach the sermon. Now I knew very well what treatment I
should get, and that it takes a stout fellow to front a conspiracy of
scorn. But I had got new courage from my travels, so I put on my best
suit of murrey-coloured cloth, my stockings of cherry silk, the gold
buckles which had been my father's, my silk-embroidered waistcoat,
freshly-ironed ruffles, and a new hat which had cost forty shillings in
London town. I wore my own hair, for I never saw the sense of a wig
save for a bald man, but I had it deftly tied. I would have cut a great
figure had there not been my bronzed and rugged face to give the lie to
my finery.
It was a day of blistering heat. The river lay still as a lagoon, and
the dusty red roads of the town blazed like a furnace. Before I had got
to the church door I was in a great sweat, and stopped in the porch to
fan myself. Inside 'twas cool enough, with a pleasant smell from the
cedar pews, but there was such a press of a congregation that many were
left standing. I had a good place just below the choir, where I saw the
Governor's carved chair, with the Governor's self before it on his
kneeling-cushion making pretence to pray. Round the choir rail and
below the pulpit clustered many young exquisites, for this was a
sovereign place from which to show off their finery. I could not get a
sight of Elspeth.
Doctor Blair preached us a fine sermon from the text, "_My people shall
dwell in a pleasant habitation, and in sure dwellings, and in quiet
resting-places!"_ But his hearers were much disturbed by the continual
chatter of the fools about the choir rail. Before he had got to the
Prayer of Chrysostom the exquisites were whispering like pigeons in a
dovecot, exchanging snuff-boxes, and ogling the women. So intolerable
it grew that the Doctor paused in his discourse and sternly rebuked
them, speaking of the laughter of fools which is as the crackling of
thorns under a pot. This silenced them for a little, but the noise
broke out during the last prayer, and with the final word of the
Benediction my gentlemen thrust their way through the congregation,
that they might be the first at the church door. I have never seen so
unseemly a sight, and for a moment I thought that Governor Nicholson
would call the halberdiers and set them in the pillory. He refrained,
though his face was dark with wrath, and I judged that there would be
some hard words said before the matter was finished.
I must tell you that during the last week I had been coming more into
favour with the prosperous families of the colony. Some one may have
spoken well of me, perhaps the Doctor, or they may have seen the
justice of my way of trading. Anyhow, I had a civil greeting from
several of the planters, and a bow from their dames. But no sooner was
I in the porch than I saw that trouble was afoot with the young bloods.
They were drawn up on both sides the path, bent on quizzing me. I
sternly resolved to keep my temper, but I foresaw that it would not be
easy.
"Behold the shopman in his Sunday best," said one.
"I thought that Sawney wore bare knees on his dirty hills," said
another.
One pointed to my buckles. "Pinchbeck out of the store," he says.
"Ho, ho, such finery!" cried another. "See how he struts like a
gamecock."
"There's much ado when beggars ride," said a third, quoting the
proverb.
It was all so pitifully childish that it failed to provoke me. I
marched down the path with a smile on my face, which succeeded in
angering them. One young fool, a Norton from Malreward, would have
hustled me, but I saw Mr. Grey hold him back. "No brawling here,
Austin," said my rival.
They were not all so discreet. One of the Kents of Gracedieu tried to
trip me by thrusting his cane between my legs. But! was ready for him,
and, pulling up quick and bracing my knees, I snapped the thing short,
so that he was left to dangle the ivory top.
Then he did a wild thing. He flung the remnant at my face, so that the
ragged end scratched my cheek. When I turned wrathfully I found a
circle of grinning faces.
It is queer how a wound, however slight, breaks a man's temper and
upsets his calm resolves, I think that then and there I would have been
involved in a mellay, had not a voice spoke behind me.
"Mr. Garvald," it said, "will you give me the favour of your arm? We
dine to-day with his Excellency."
I turned to find Elspeth, and close behind her Doctor Blair and
Governor Nicholson.
All my heat left me, and I had not another thought for my tormentors.
In that torrid noon she looked as cool and fragrant as a flower. Her
clothes were simple compared with the planters' dames, but of a far
more dainty fashion. She wore, I remember, a gown of pale sprigged
muslin, with a blue kerchief about her shoulders and blue ribbons
in her wide hat. As her hand lay lightly on my arm I did not think
of my triumph, being wholly taken up with the admiration of her grace.
The walk was all too short, for the Governor's lodging was but a
stone's-throw distant. When we parted at the door I hoped to find some
of my mockers still lingering, for in that hour I think I could have
flung any three of them into the river.
None were left, however, and as I walked homewards I reflected very
seriously that the baiting of Andrew Garvald could not endure for long.
Pretty soon I must read these young gentry a lesson, little though I
wanted to embroil myself in quarrels. I called them "young" in scorn,
but few of them, I fancy, were younger than myself.
Next day, as it happened, I had business with Mercer at the water-side,
and as I returned along the harbour front I fell in with the Receiver
of Customs, who was generally called the Captain of the Castle, from
his station at Point Comfort. He was an elderly fellow who had once
been a Puritan, and still cherished a trace of the Puritan modes of
speech. I had often had dealings with him, and had found him honest,
though a thought truculent in manner. He had a passion against all
smugglers and buccaneers, and, in days to come, was to do good service
in ridding Accomac of these scourges. He feared God, and did not
greatly fear much else.
He was sitting on the low wall smoking a pipe, and had by him a very
singular gentleman. Never have I set eyes on a more decorous merchant.
He was habited neatly and soberly in black, with a fine white cravat
and starched shirt-bands. He wore a plain bob-wig below a huge
flat-brimmed hat, and big blue spectacles shaded his eyes. His mouth
was as precise as a lawyer's, and altogether he was a very whimsical,
dry fellow to find at a Virginian port.
The Receiver called me to him and asked after a matter which we had
spoken of before. Then he made me known to his companion, who was a Mr.
Fairweather, a merchant out of Boston.
"The Lord hath given thee a pleasant dwelling, friend," said the
stranger, snuffling a little through his nose.
From his speech I knew that Mr. Fairweather was of the sect of the
Quakers, a peaceable race that Virginia had long ill-treated.
"The land is none so bad," said the Receiver, "but the people are a
perverse generation. Their hearts are set on vanity, and puffed up with
pride. I could wish, Mr. Fairweather, that my lines had fallen among
your folk in the north, where, I am told, true religion yet
flourisheth. Here we have nothing but the cold harangues of the
Commissary, who seeketh after the knowledge that perisheth rather than
the wisdom which is eternal life."
"Patience, friend," said the stranger. "Thee is not alone in thy
crosses. The Lord hath many people up Boston way, but they are sore
beset by the tribulations of Zion. On land there is war and rumour of
war, and on the sea the ships of the godly are snatched by every manner
of ocean thief. Likewise we have dissension among ourselves, and a
constant strife with the froward human heart. Still is Jerusalem
troubled, and there is no peace within her bulwarks."
"Do the pirates afflict you much in the north?" asked the Receiver with
keen interest. The stranger turned his large spectacles upon him, and
then looked blandly at me. Suddenly I had a notion that I had seen that
turn of the neck and poise of the head before.
"Woe is me," he cried in a stricken voice. "The French have two fair
vessels of mine since March, and a third is missing. Some say it ran
for a Virginian port, and I am here to seek it. Heard thee ever,
friend, of a strange ship in the James or the Potomac?"
"There be many strange ships," said the Receiver, "for this dominion is
the goal for all the wandering merchantmen of the earth. What was the
name of yours?"
"A square-rigged schooner out of Bristol, painted green, with a white
figurehead of a winged heathen god."
"And the name?"
"The name is a strange one. It is called _The Horn of Diarmaid_, but I
seek to prevail on the captain to change it to _The Horn of Mercy_."
"No such name is known to me," and the Receiver shook his head. "But I
will remember it, and send you news."
I hope I did not betray my surprise, but for all that it was
staggering. Of all disguises and of all companies this was the most
comic and the most hazardous. I stared across the river till I had
mastered my countenance, and when I looked again at the two they were
soberly discussing the harbour dues of Boston.
Presently the Receiver's sloop arrived to carry him to Point Comfort.
He nodded to me, and took an affectionate farewell of the Boston man. I
heard some good mouth-filling texts exchanged between them.
Then, when we were alone, the Quaker turned to me. "Man, Andrew," he
said, "it was a good thing that I had a Bible upbringing. I can manage
the part fine, but I flounder among the 'thees' and 'thous.' I would be
the better of a drink to wash my mouth of the accursed pronouns. Will
you be alone to-night about the darkening? Then I'll call in to see
you, for I've much to tell you."
* * * * *
That evening about nine the Quaker slipped into my room.
"How about that tobacco-shed?" he asked. "Is it well guarded?"
"Faulkner and one of the men sleep above it, and there are a couple of
fierce dogs chained at the door. Unless they know the stranger, he will
be apt to lose the seat of his breeches."
The Quaker nodded, well pleased. "That is well, for I heard word in the
town that to-night you might have a visitor or two." Then he walked to
a stand of arms on the wall and took down a small sword, which he
handled lovingly. "A fair weapon, Andrew," said he. "My new sect
forbids me to wear a blade, but I think I'll keep this handy beside me
in the chimney corner."
Then he gave me the news. Lawrence had been far inland with the
Monacans, and had brought back disquieting tales. The whole nation of
the Cherokees along the line of the mountains was unquiet. Old family
feuds had been patched up, and there was a coming and going of
messengers from Chickamauga to the Potomac.
"Well, we're ready for them," I said, and I told him the full story of
our preparations.
"Ay, but that is not all. I would not give much for what the Cherokees
and the Tuscaroras could do. There might be some blood shed and a good
few blazing roof-trees in the back country, but no Indian raid would
stand against our lads. But I have a notion--maybe it's only a notion,
though Lawrence is half inclined to it himself--that there's more in
this business than a raid from the hills. There's something stirring in
the West, away in the parts that no White man has ever travelled. From
what I learn there's a bigger brain than an Indian's behind it."
"The French?" I asked.
"Maybe, but maybe not. What's to hinder a blackguard like Cosh, with
ten times Cosh's mind, from getting into the Indian councils, and
turning the whole West loose on the Tidewater??
"Have you any proof?" I asked, much alarmed.
"Little at present. But one thing I know. There's a man among the
tribes that speaks English."
"Great God, what a villain!" I cried, "But how do you know?"
"Just this way. The Monacans put an arrow through the neck of a young
brave, and they found this in his belt."
He laid before me a bit of a printed Bible leaf. About half was blank
paper, for it came at the end of the Book of Revelation. On the blank
part some signs had been made in rude ink which I could not understand.
"But this is no proof," I said. "It's only a relic from some plundered
settlement. Can you read those marks?"
"I cannot, nor could the Monacans. But look at the printed part."
I looked again, and saw that some one had very carefully underlined
certain words. These made a sentence, and read, "_John, servant of the
prophecy, is at hand._"
"The underlining may have been done long ago," I hazarded.
"No, the ink is not a month old," he said, and I could do nothing but
gape.
"Well what's your plan?" I said at last.
"None, but I would give my right hand to know what is behind the hills.
That's our weakness, Andrew. We have to wait here, and since we do not
know the full peril, we cannot fully prepare. There may be mischief
afoot which would rouse every sleepy planter out of bed, and turn the
Tidewater into an armed camp. But we know nothing. If we had only a
scout--".
"What about Shalah?" I asked.
"Can you spare him?" he replied; and I knew I could not.
"I see nothing for it," I said, "but to wait till we are ready, and
then to make a reconnaissance, trusting to be in time. This is the
first week of July. In another fortnight every man on our list will be
armed, and every line of communication laid. Then is our chance to make
a bid for news."
He nodded, and at that moment came the growling of dogs from the sheds.
Instantly his face lost its heavy preoccupation, and under his Quaker's
mask became the mischievous countenance of a boy. "That's your
friends," he said. "Now for a merry meeting."
In the sultry weather I had left open window and door, and every sound
came clear from the outside. I heard the scuffling of feet, and some
confused talk, and presently there stumbled into my house half a dozen
wild-looking figures. They blinked in the lamplight, and one begged to
know if "Mr. Garbled" were at home. All had decked themselves for this
play in what they fancied was the dress of pirates--scarlet sashes, and
napkins or turbans round their heads, big boots, and masks over their
eyes. I did not recognize a face, but I was pretty clear that Mr. Grey
was not of the number, and I was glad, for the matter between him and
me was too serious for this tomfoolery. All had been drinking, and one
at least was very drunk. He stumbled across the floor, and all but fell
on Ringan in his chair.
"Hullo, old Square-Toes," he hiccupped; "what the devil are you?"
"Friend, thee is shaky on thy legs," said Ringan, in a mild voice, "It
were well for thee to be in bed."
"Bed," cried the roysterer; "no bed for me this night! Where is that
damnable Scots packman?"
I rose very quietly, and lit another lamp. Then I shut the window, and
closed the shutters. "Here I am," I said, "very much at your service,
gentlemen."
One or two of the sober ones looked a little embarrassed, but the
leader, who I guessed was the youth from Gracedieu, was brave enough.
"The gentlemen of Virginia," he said loudly, "being resolved that the
man Garvald is an offence to the dominion, have summoned the Free
Companions to give him a lesson. If he will sign a bond to leave the
country within a month, we are instructed to be merciful. If not, we
have here tar and feathers and sundry other adornments, and to-morrow's
morn will behold a pretty sight. Choose, you Scots swine." In the
excess of his zeal, he smashed with the handle of his sword a clock I
had but lately got from Glasgow.
Ringan signed to me to keep my temper. He pretended to be in a great
taking.
"I am a man of peace," he cried, "but I cannot endure to see my friend
outraged. Prithee, good folk, go away. See, I will give thee a guinea
each to leave us alone."
This had the desired effect of angering them. "Curse your money," one
cried. "You damned traders think that you can buy a gentleman. Take
that for your insult." And he aimed a blow with the flat of his sword,
which Ringan easily parried.
"I had thought thee a pirate," said the mild Quaker, "but thee tells me
thee is a gentleman."
"Hold your peace, Square-Toes," cried the leader, "and let's get to
business."
"But if ye be gentlefolk," pleaded Ringan, "ye will grant a fair field.
I am no fighter, but I will stand by my friend."
I, who had said nothing, now broke in. "It is a warm evening for
sword-play, but if it is your humour, so be it."
This seemed to them hugely comic. "La!" cried one. "Sawney with a
sword!" And he plucked forth his own blade, and bent it on the floor.
Ringan smiled gently, "Thee must grant me the first favour," he said,
"for I am the challenger, if that be the right word of the carnally
minded." And standing up, he picked up the blade from beside him, and
bowed to the leader from Gracedieu.
Nothing loath he engaged, and the others stood back expecting a high
fiasco. They saw it. Ringan's sword played like lightning round the
wretched youth, it twitched the blade from his grasp, and forced him
back with a very white face to the door. In less than a minute, it
seemed, he was there, and as he yielded so did the door, and he
disappeared into the night. He did not return, so I knew that Ringan
must have spoke a word to Faulkner.
"Now for the next bloody-minded pirate," cried Ringan, and the next
with a very wry face stood up. One of the others would have joined in,
but, crying, "For shame, a fair field," I beat down his sword.
The next took about the same time to reach the door, and disappeared
into the darkness, and the third about half as long. Of the remaining
three, one sulkily declined to draw, and the other two were over drunk
for anything. They sat on the floor and sang a loose song.
"It seems, friends," said the Quaker, "that ye be more ready with words
than with deeds. I pray thee"--this to the sober one--"take off these
garments of sin. We be peaceful traders, and cannot abide the thought
of pirates."
He took them off, sash, breeches, jerkin, turban, and all, and stood up
in his shirt. The other two I stripped myself, and so drunk were they
that they entered into the spirit of the thing, and themselves tore at
the buttons. Then with Ringan's sword behind them, the three marched
out of doors.
There we found their companions stripped and sullen, with Faulkner and
the men to guard them. We made up neat parcels of their clothes, and I
extorted their names, all except one who was too far gone in drink.
"To-morrow, gentlemen," I said, "I will send back your belongings,
together with the tar and feathers, which you may find useful some
other day. The night is mild, and a gentle trot will keep you from
taking chills. I should recommend hurry, for in five minutes the dogs
will be loosed. A pleasant journey to you."
They moved off, and then halted and apparently were for returning. But
they thought better of it, and presently they were all six of them
racing and stumbling down the hill in their shifts.
The Quaker stretched his legs and lit a pipe. "Was it not a scurvy
trick of fate," he observed to the ceiling, "that these poor lads
should come here for a night's fooling, and find the best sword in the
Five Seas?"