One evening, three weeks later--so vigorously had the carpenter's mates
from the old frigate _Sirius_ got through their work--the _Ceres_ was
ready for sea. She was to sail on the following morning, and Corwell,
having just returned from the shore, where he had been to say goodbye
to the kind-hearted Governor, was pacing the deck with his wife, his
smiling face and eager tones showing that he was well pleased.
He had reason to be pleased, for unusual luck had attended him. Not
only had his ship been thoroughly and efficiently repaired, but he had
replaced six of his untrustworthy Malays by four good, sturdy British
seamen, one of whom he had appointed mate. These men had arrived at
Sydney Cove in a transport a few days after his interview with the
Governor; the transport had been condemned, and Corwell, much to his
delight, found that out of her crew of thirty, four were willing to come
with him on what he cautiously described as a “voyage of venture to the
South Seas.” All of them had served in the navy, and the captain of the
transport and his officers gave them excellent characters for sobriety
and seamanship. Out of the sixty or seventy pounds which still remained
to him he had given them a substantial advance, and the cheerful manner
in which they turned to and helped the carpenters from the frigate
convinced him that he had secured decent, reliable men, to whom he
thought he could reveal the real object of his voyage later on.
*****
Two years before Cornell had been mate of a “country” ship employed
in trading between Calcutta and the Moluccas. The Ternate agent of the
owners of the ship was an Englishman named Leighton, a widower with one
daughter, whose mother had died when the girl was fifteen. With this
man the young officer struck up a friendship, and before six months had
passed he was the acknowledged suitor of Mary Leighton, with whom he
had fallen in love at first sight, and who quickly responded to his
affection. She was then twenty-two years of age, tall and fair,
with dark hazel eyes, like her English mother, and possessed of such
indomitable spirit and courage that her father often laughingly declared
it was she, and not he, who really managed the business which he
controlled.
And she really did much to help him; she knew his weak, vacillating, and
speculative nature would long since have left them penniless had he
not yielded to her advice and protests on many occasions, Generous
and extravagantly hospitable, he spent his money lavishly, and had
squandered two or three fortunes in wild business ventures in the Indian
Seas instead of saving one. Latterly, however, he had been more careful,
and when Corwell had made his acquaintance he had two vessels--a
barque and a brig--both of which were very profitably engaged in the
Manila-China trade, and he was now sanguine or mending his broken
fortunes.
Isolated as were father and daughter from the advantages of constant
intercourse with European society, the duty of educating the girl was
a task of love to her remaining parent, who, before he entered “John
Company's” service, had travelled much in Europe. Yet, devoted as he was
to her, and looking forward with some dread to the coming loneliness of
life which would be his when she married, he cheerfully gave his consent
to her union with John Cornell, for whom he had conceived a strong
liking, and who, he knew, would make her a good husband.
They were married at Batavia, to which port they were accompanied by Mr.
Leighton, who, during the voyage, had pressed Corwell to leave his then
employment and join him in a venture which had occupied his mind for the
past year. This was to despatch either the barque or brig, laden with
trade goods, to the Society Islands in the South Pacific, to barter for
coconut oil and pearl shell.
Leighton was certain that there was a fortune awaiting the man who
entered upon the venture, and his arguments so convinced the young man
that he consented.
On arrival at Batavia they found there the officers and crew of a
shipwrecked English vessel, and one of the former eagerly took Corwell's
place as chief mate, his captain offering no objection. A few weeks
after Mr. Leighton hired the _Ceres_ to take himself, his daughter, and
her husband back to Ternate, eager to begin the work of fitting out one
of his vessels for the voyage that was to bring them fortune. He, it was
arranged, was to remain at Ternate, Mary was to sail with her husband to
the South Seas.
But a terrible shock awaited them. As the _Ceres_ sailed up to her
anchorage before Mr. Leighton's house, his Chinese clerk came on board
with the news that the barque had foundered in a typhoon, and the brig
had been plundered and burnt by pirates within a few miles of Canton.
The unfortunate man gave one last appealing look at his daughter and
then fell on the deck at her feet He never spoke again, and died in a
few hours. When his affairs came to be settled up, it was found that,
after paying his debts, there was less than four hundred pounds left--a
sum little more than that which Corwell had managed to save out of his
own wages.
“Never mind, Jack,” said Mary. “'Tis little enough, but yet 'tis enough.
And, Jack, let us go away from here. I should not care now to meet any
of the people father knew in his prosperity.”
Cornell kissed his wife, and then they at once discussed the future.
Half an hour later he had bought the _Ceres_ from her captain (who was
also the owner), paid him his money and taken possession. Before the
week was out he had bought all the trade goods he could afford to pay
for, shipped a crew of Malays and Chinese, and, with Mary by his side,
watched Ternate sink astern as the _Ceres_ began her long voyage to the
South Seas.
After a three weeks' voyage along the northern and eastern shores of New
Guinea the _Ceres_ came to an anchor in the harbour which Cornell had
described to the Governor. The rest of his story, up to the time of his
arrival in Sydney Cove, the reader knows. *****
Steadily northward under cloudless skies the high-pooped, bluff-bowed
little vessel had sailed, favoured by leading winds nearly all the way,
for four-and-twenty days, when, on the morning of the twenty-fifth,
Corwell, who had been up aloft scanning the blue loom of a lofty island
which lay right ahead, descended to the deck with a smiling face.
“That is not only the island itself, Mary, but with this breeze we have
a clear run for the big village in the bay; I can see the spur on the
southern side quite clearly.”
“I'm so glad, Jack, dear. And how you have worried and fumed for the
past three days!”
“I feared we had got too far to the westward, my girl,” he said. Then
telling the mate to keep away a couple of points, he went below to pore
over the plan of the harbour, a copy of which had been taken by the
Governor, As he studied it his wife's fingers passed lovingly through
and through his curly locks. He looked up, put his arm around her waist,
and swung her to a seat on his knees.
“I think, Mary, I can tell the men now.”
“I'm sure you can! The sooner you take them into your confidence the
better.”
Corwell nodded. During the voyage he had watched the mate and three
white seamen keenly, and was thoroughly satisfied with them. The
remainder of the crew--three Manila men and two Penang Malays--did their
duty well enough, but both he and his wife knew from long experience
that such people were not to be trusted when their avarice was aroused.
He resolved, therefore, to rely entirely upon his white crew and the
natives of the island to help him in obtaining the gold. Yet, as he
could not possibly keep the operations a secret from the five men
he distrusted, he decided, as a safeguard against their possible and
dangerous ill-will, to promise them double wages from the day he found
that gold was to be obtained in payable quantities. As for the mate and
three other white men, they should have one-fifth of all the gold won
between them, he keeping the remaining four-fifths for himself and wife.
He put his head up the companion-way and called to the man whom he had
appointed mate.
“Come below, Mallett, and bring Totten, Harris, and Sam with you.”
Wondering what was the matter the four men came into the cabin. As soon
as they were standing together at the head of the little table, the
captain's wife went quietly on deck to see that none of the coloured
crew came aft to listen.
“Now, men,” said Corwell, “I have something important to tell you. I
believe I can trust you.”
Then in as few words as possible he told them the object of the
voyage and his intentions towards them. At first they seemed somewhat
incredulous, but when they were shown some of the gold their doubts
vanished, and they one and all swore to be honest and true to him and to
obey him faithfully whether afloat or ashore, in fair or evil fortune.
From his scanty store of liquor the captain took a bottle of rum, and
they drank to their future success; then Corwell shook each man's hand
and sent him on deck.
Just before dusk the _Ceres_ ran in and dropped her clumsy,
wooden-stocked anchor in the crystal-clear water, a few cables' length
away from the village. As the natives recognised her a chorus of
welcoming shouts and cries pealed from the shore from five hundred
dusky-hued throats.