"Thus the merry Pau-Puk-Keewis
Danced his Beggar's Dance to please them,
And, returning, sat down laughing."--_Hiawatha_.
"GOD be thanked, the meanest of His creatures
Boasts two soul-sides; one to face the world with,
One to show a woman when he loves her."
ROBERT BROWNING.
The fact that when we got back to the _Water-Lily_, Alister found the
captain dead drunk in his cabin, sealed our resolution to have nothing
more to do with her when we were paid off, and our engagement ended (as
had been agreed upon) in the Georgetown harbour. There was no fear that
we should fail to get berths as common seamen now, if we wanted them;
and there was not a thing to regret about the _Slut_, except perhaps
Alfonso, of whom we were really fond. As it turned out, we had not even
to mourn for him, for he cut cable from the _Water-Lily_ too, having
plans of his own, about which he made a great deal of mystery and
displayed his wonted importance, but whether they were matrimonial or
professional, I doubt if even Dennis knew at the time.
Alister _had_ something to lose. It was not a small consideration to
give up his mate's berth, but he said the whole conduct of the ship was
"against his conscience," and that settled the matter, to him.
When we were our own masters once more, we held another big council
about our future. If I went home at once, I must, somehow or other, get
back to Halifax before I could profit by Uncle Henry's arrangement. If
Dennis went home, he must equally depend on himself, for there was no
saying when the Squire would, or would not, find out and rectify his
omission. Alister's mother had sent him some stamps for postage, and his
paternal relative had sent him a message to the effect that having had
neither word nor wittens of him for a considerable period, and having
feared the worst, he was thankful to learn of his safe arrival in
Halifax, Nova Scotia; and trusted that the step he had taken, if a
thought presumptuous at his years, yet betokened a spirit of
self-reliance, and might prove not otherwise than conducive to his
welfare in the outcome.
Altogether, we were, practically, as much dependent on ourselves as when
we sat under the pine-trees in Nova Scotia.
"We'll look up my cousin, to begin with," said Dennis.
"Are ye pairfectly convinced that he's here?" asked Alister, warned by
his own experience.
"Certainly," said Dennis.
"Have ye corresponded with him of late?" pursued Alister.
"Not I, indeed. The O'Moores are by no means good letter-writers at the
best of times, but he'd have let us know if he was dead, anyhow, and if
he's alive, we'll be as welcome as the flowers."
Before Alister could reply, he was interrupted by a message from our
late captain. The _Water-Lily_ was still in harbour, and the captain
wanted the ex-mate to help him on some matters connected with the ship
or her cargo. Alister would not refuse, and he was to be paid for the
job, so we hastily arranged that he should go, and that Dennis and I
should devote the evening to looking up the Irish cousin, and we
appointed to meet on the "stelling" or wharf, alongside of which the
_Water-Lily_ lay, at eleven o'clock on the following morning.
"I was a fool not to speak to that engineer fellow the other night,"
said Dennis, as we strolled on the shady side of a wide street, down the
middle of which ran a wide water-dyke fringed with oleanders. "He would
be certain to know where my cousin's place is."
"Do you know him?" I asked, with some eagerness, for the young officer
was no small hero in my eyes.
"Oh, yes, quite well. He's a lieutenant in the Engineers. He has often
stayed at my father's for shooting. But he has been abroad the last two
or three years, and I suppose I've grown. He didn't know--"
"There he is!" said I.
He was coming out of a garden-gate on the other side of the street. But
he crossed the road, saying, "Hi, my lads!" and putting his hand into
his pocket as he came.
"Here's diversion, Jack!" chuckled Dennis; "he's going to tip us for our
assistance in the gunpowder plot. Look at him now! Faith, he's as short
of change as myself. How that half-crown's eluding him in the corner of
his pocket! It'll be no less, I assure ye. He's a liberal soul. Now for
it!"
And as the young lieutenant drew near, Dennis performed an elaborate
salute. But his eyes were brimming with roguishness, and in another
moment he burst out laughing, and after one rapid glance, and a twist of
his moustache that I thought must have torn it up by the roots, the
young officer exploded in the same fashion.
"DENNIS!--What in the name of the mother of mischief (and I'm sure she
was an O'Moore) are you masquerading in that dress for, out here?" But
before Dennis could reply, the lieutenant became quite grave, and
turning him round by the arm, said, "But this isn't masquerading, I see.
Dennis, my dear fellow, what does it mean?"
"It means that I was a stowaway, and my friend here a castaway--I mean
that I was a castaway, and Jack was a stowaway. Willie, do you remember
Barton?"
"Old Barney? Of course I do. How did he come to let you out of his
sight?"
Dennis did not speak. I saw that he could not, so I took upon me to
explain.
"They were out in the hooker, off the Irish coast, and she went to
pieces in a gale. Old Barney was lost, and we picked Dennis up."
He nodded to me, and with his hand through Dennis O'Moore's arm, said
kindly, "We'll go to my quarters, and talk it over. Where are you
putting up?"
"We're only just paid off," said I.
"Then you'll rough it with me, of course, both of you."
I thanked him, and Dennis said, "Willie, the one thing I've been wanting
to ask you is, if you know where that cousin of my father's lives, who
is in business out here. Do you know him?"
"Certainly. I'm going there to-night, for a dance, and you shall come
with me. I can rig you out."
They went ahead, arm-in-arm, and I followed at just sufficient distance
behind to catch the backward looks of amazement which the young
officer's passing friends were too polite to indulge when exactly on a
level with him. He capped first one and then another with an air of
apparent unconsciousness, but the contrast between his smart appearance
and spotless white uniform, and the patched remains of Dennis's homespun
suit (to say nothing of the big bundle in which he carried his "duds"),
justified a good deal of staring, of which I experienced a humble share
myself.
Very good and pleasant are the comforts of civilization, as we felt when
we were fairly established in our new friend's quarters. Not that the
first object of life is to be comfortable, or that I was moved by a
hair's-breadth from my aims and ambitions, but I certainly enjoyed it;
and, as Dennis said, "Oh, the luxury of a fresh-water wash!"--for salt
water really will not clean one, and the only way to get a fresh-water
wash at sea is to save out of one's limited allowance. We had done this,
to the extent of two-thirds of a pailful, as we approached Guiana, and
had been glad enough all to soap in the same bucket (tossing for turns)
and rinse off with clean sea-water, but real "tubs" were a treat indeed!
I had had mine, and, clothed in a white suit, nearly as much too big
for me as the old miser's funeral gloves, was reposing in a very easy
chair, when Dennis and his friend began to dress for the dance. The
lieutenant was in his bedroom, which opened to the left out of the
sitting-room where I sat, and Dennis was tubbing in another room
similarly placed on the right. Every door and window was open to catch
what air was stirring, and they shouted to each other, over my head, so
to speak, while the lieutenant's body-servant ran backwards and forwards
from one to the other. He was, like so many soldiers, an Irishman, and
having been with his master when he visited the O'Moores, he treated
Dennis with the utmost respect, and me with civility for Dennis' sake.
He was waiting on his master when the lieutenant shouted,
"Dennis! what's your length, you lanky fellow?"
"Six foot two by the last notch on the front door. I stood in my socks,
and the squire measured it with his tape."
"Well, there's half-an-inch between us if he's right; but that tape's
been measuring the O'Moores from the days of St. Patrick, and I've a
notion it has shrunk with age. I think my clothes will do for you."
"Thank you, thank you, Willie! You're very good."
In a few minutes O'Brien came out with his arms full of clothes, and
pursued by his master's voice.
"O'Brien's bringing you the things; can he go in? Be quick and finish
off that fresh-water business, old fellow, and get into them. I promised
not to be late."
I tried to read a newspaper, but the cross-fire of talk forbade anything
like attention.
"Was ye wanting me, sorr?"
"No, no. Never mind me, O'Brien. Attend to Mr. O'Moore. Can he manage
with those things?"
"He can, sorr. He looks illigant," replied O'Brien from the right-hand
chamber. We all laughed, and Dennis began to sing:
"Oh, once we were illigant people,
Though we now live in cabins of mud;
And the land that ye see from the steeple,
Belonged to us all from the flood.
My father was then king of Connaught ----"
"And mislaid his crown, I'll be bound!" shouted the lieutenant. "Look
here, Dennis, you'll get no good partners if we're late, and if you
don't get a dance with your cousin's daughter, you'll miss a treat, I
can tell you. But dancing out here isn't trifled with as it is in
temperate climates, and cards are made up early."
By and by he shouted again,
"O'Brien!"
"Coming, your honour."
"I don't want you. But _is_ Mr. O'Moore ready?"
"He is, sorr, barring the waistcoat. _Take a fresh tie, Master Dennis.
The master 'll not be pleased to take ye out with one like that. Sure
it's haste that's the ruin of the white ties all along._ Did ye find the
young gentleman a pair of shoes, sorr?"
"Won't those I threw in fit you?" asked our host.
"I've got them. The least bit too large. A thousand thanks."
"Can you dance in them?"
"I'll try," replied Dennis, and judging by the sound, he did try then
and there, singing as he twirled,
"Bad luck to this marching,
Pipe-claying and starching,
How neat one must be to be killed by the French!"
But O'Brien's audible delight and the progress of the song were checked
by the lieutenant, who had dressed himself, and was now in the
sitting-room.
"O'Brien!"
"Sorr!"
"If Mr. O'Moore is not ready, I must go without him."
"He's ready and waiting, sorr," replied O'Brien.
"_Have ye got a pocket-handkerchief, Master Dennis, dear? There's the
flower for your coat. Ye'll be apt to give it away, maybe; let me use a
small pin. Did the master not find ye any gloves? Now av the squire saw
ye, its a proud man he'd be!_ Will I give the young gentleman one of
your hats, sorr?"
"Yes, of course. Be quick! So there you are at last, you young puppy.
Bless me! how like the squire you are."
The squire must have been amazingly handsome, I thought, as I gazed
admiringly at my comrade. Our staring made him shy, and as he blushed
and touched up the stephanotis in his buttonhole, the engineer changed
the subject by saying, "Talking of the squire, is it true, Dennis, what
Jack tells me about the twenty pounds? Did he really forget to put it
in?"
"As true as gospel," said Dennis, and taking up the tails of his coat he
waltzed round the room to the tune of
"They say some disaster
Befell the paymaster,
On my conscience, I think that the money's not there!"
I stood out on the verandah to see them off, Dennis singing and chaffing
and chattering to the last. He waved his hat to me as his friend
gathered the reins, a groom sprang up behind, and they were whirled
away. The only part of the business I envied them was the drive.
It was a glorious night, despite the oppressive heat and the almost
intolerable biting of mosquitoes and sandflies. In the wake of the
departing trap flew a solitary beetle, making a noise exactly like a
scissor-grinder at work. Soft and silent moths--some as big as small
birds--went past my face, I fear to the hanging lamp behind me. Passing
footfalls echoed bluntly from the wooden pavement, and in the far-away
distance the bull-frogs croaked monotonously. And down below, as I
looked upon the trees, I could see fireflies coming and going, like
pulsations of light, amongst the leaves.
O'Brien waited on me with the utmost care and civility; served me an
excellent supper with plenty of ice and cooling drinks, and taught me
the use of the "swizzle stick" for mixing them. I am sure he did not
omit a thing he could think of for my comfort. He had been gone for some
time, and I had been writing letters, turning over the engineer's books,
and finally dozing in his chair, when I was startled by sounds from his
bedroom, as if O'Brien were engaged, first in high argument, and then in
deadly struggle with some intruder. I rushed to his assistance, and
found him alone, stamping vehemently on the floor.
"What's the matter?" said I.
"Matther is it? Murther's the matther," and he gave another vicious
stamp, and then took a stride that nearly cost him his balance, and gave
another. "I beg yor pardon, sorr; but it's the cockroaches. The place
swarms wid 'em. Av they'd keep peaceably below, now, but invading the
master's bedroom--that's for ye, ye thief!" and he stamped again.
"The creatures here are a great plague," said I, slapping a mosquito
upon my forehead.
"And that as true a word as your honour ever spoke. They're murderous no
less! Many's the time I'm wishing myself back in old Ireland, where
there's no venomous beasts at all, at all. Arrah! Would ye, ye
skulking--"
I left him stamping and streaming with perspiration, but labouring
loyally on in a temperature where labour was little short of heroism.
I went back to my chair, and began to think over my prospects. It is a
disadvantage of idleness that one wearies oneself with thinking, though
one cannot act. I wondered how the prosperous sugar-planter was
receiving Dennis, and whether he would do more for him than one's rich
relations are apt to do. The stars began to pale in the dawn without my
being any the wiser for my speculations, and then my friends came home.
The young officer was full of hopes that I had been comfortable, and
Dennis of regrets that I had not gone with them. His hair was tossed,
his cheeks were crimson, and he had lost the flower from his buttonhole.
"How did you get on with your cousin?" I asked. The reply confounded me.
"Oh, charmingly! Dances like a fairy. I say, Willie, as a mere matter of
natural history, d'ye believe any other human being ever had such feet?"
A vague wonder crept into my brain whether the cousin could possibly
have become half a nigger, from the climate, which really felt capable
of anything, and have developed feet like our friend the pilot; but I
was diverted from this speculation by seeing that Dennis was clapping
his pockets and hunting for something.
"What have you lost now?" asked his friend.
"My pocket-handkerchief. Ah, there it is!" and he drew it from within
his waistcoat, and with it came his gloves, and a third one, and they
fell on the floor. As he picked the odd one up the lieutenant laughed.
"What size does she wear, Dennis--sixes?"
"Five and three-quarters--long fingers; so she tells me." He sighed, and
then wandered to the window, whistling "Robin Adair."
"Now, Dennis, you promised me to go straight to bed. Turn in we must,
for I have to be on an early parade."
"All right, Willie. Good-night, and a thousand thanks to you. It's been
a great evening--I never was so happy in my life. Come along, Jack."
And off he went, tossing his head and singing to the air he had been
whistling,
"Who in the song so sweet?
Eileen aroon!
Who in the dance so fleet?
Eileen aroon!
Dear were her charms to me,
Dearer her laughter free,
Dearest her constancy,
Eileen aroon!"
"She'll be married to a sugar-planter before you've cut your wisdom
teeth!" bawled the engineer from his bedroom.
"_Will she_?" retorted Dennis, and half-laughing, half-sentimentally, he
sang on louder than before,
"Were she no longer true,
Eileen aroon!
What should her lover do?
Eileen aroon!
Fly with his broken chain,
Far o'er the bounding main,
Never to love again,
Eileen aroon!"
Willie made no reply. He evidently meant to secure what sleep there was
to be had, and as Dennis did not seem in the mood for discussing our
prospects as seamen, I turned into my hammock and pulled it well round
my ears to keep out bats, night-moths, and the like.
It was thus that I failed at first to hear when Dennis began to talk to
somebody out of the window. But when I lifted my head I could hear what
he said, and from the context I gathered that the other speaker was no
less than Alister, who, having taken his sleep early in the night, was
now refreshing himself by a stroll at dawn. That they were squabbling
with unusual vehemence was too patent, and I was at once inclined to lay
the blame on Dennis, who ought, I felt, to have been brimming over with
generous sympathy, considering how comfortable we had been, and poor
Alister had not. But I soon discovered that the matter was no personal
one, being neither more nor less than an indignant discussion as to
whether the air which Dennis was singing was "Scotch" or "Irish." As I
only caught the Irish side of the argument, I am not qualified to
pronounce any opinion.
"Of course facts are facts, no one denies that. And it's likely enough
your grandmother sang 'Robin Adair' to it, and your great-grandmother
too, rest her soul! But it would take an uncommonly _great-grandmother_
of mine to have sung it when it was new, for it's one of the oldest of
old Irish airs."
* * * * *
"Stole it of course! as they did plenty more in those times--cattle and
what not. I'd forgive them the theft, if they hadn't spoilt the tune
with a nasty jerk or two that murders the tender grace of it intirely."
* * * * *
"Alister, me boy! You're not going? Ye're not cross, are ye? Faith, I'd
give my life for ye, but I can't give ye Eileen aroon. Come in and have
some swizzle! We're in the height of luxury here, and hospitality as
well, and you'll be as welcome as daylight."
* * * * *
"Up so late? Up so early you mean! Ah, don't put on that air of
incorruptible morality. Wait now till I get in on the one side of my
hammock and out at the other, and I'll look as early-rising-proud as
yourself. Alister! Alister dear!--"
Through all this the engineer made no sign, and it struck me how wise he
was, so I pulled the hammock round me again and fell asleep; not for
long, I fancy, for those intolerable sandflies woke me once more before
Dennis had turned in.
I looked out and saw him still at the window, his eyes on a waning
planet, his cheek resting on the little glove laid in his right hand,
and singing more sweetly than any nightingale:
"Youth must with time decay,
Eileen aroon!
Beauty must fade away,
Eileen aroon!
Castles are sacked in war,
Chieftains are scattered far,
Truth is a fixèd star,
Eileen aroon!"