THE BRIG ANNE
Was a small, old-fashioned, black-hulled vessel, marvellously resembling
a collier in her outward appearance. She was a one-masted ship, of 180
tons burthen, and promised everything but aristocratic accommodations
for women and children.
The cabin was a low, square room, meant to contain only the captain and
his mate; whose berths, curtained with coarse red stuff, occupied the
opposite walls. The table in the centre was a fixture, and the bench
which ran round three sides of this crib, was a fixture also; and though
backed by the wall, was quite near enough to the table to serve the
double purpose of chair or sofa. A small fireplace occupied the front of
the cabin, at the side of which, a door opened into a tiny closet, which
the Captain dignified with the name of his state-cabin. The compass was
suspended in a brass box from the ceiling,--articles of comfort or
luxury there were none.
The Captain, a stout, broad-shouldered, red-faced man, like Captain
Ayre of the _Flora_, was minus an eye; but the one which fortune had
left him was a piercer. He was a rough, blunt-looking tar, some
forty-five or fifty years of age; and looked about as sentimental and
polite as a tame bear. His coarse, weather-beaten face had an honest,
frank expression, and he bade his guests to be seated with an air of
such hearty hospitality, that they felt quite at home in his narrow low
den.
He had no cabin-passengers, though a great many in the steerage; and he
assured Flora that she could have the very best accommodations, as he
would resign the state-cabin to her and the child. Mr. Lyndsay could
occupy the mate's berth in the cabin, and they could not fail of being
quite snug and comfortable.
The state-cabin was just big enough to hold the captain's chest of
drawers, the top of which, boarded, and draped with the same faded red
stuff which decorated the outer room, formed the berth that Flora was to
occupy. Small as the place was, it was scrupulously neat and clean, and
possessed for Flora one great charm--that of privacy. She could, by
shutting the door and drawing the bolt, at any time enjoy the luxury of
finding herself, though in a crowded vessel, alone.
"Mamma Flora, are you not charmed with the splendid accommodations of
your fancy ship?" whispered the mischievous Jim. "There is not room for
a flea to hop, without giving him the cramp in his legs."
"It is better than the _Flora_; so hold your tongue, you wicked imp."
But Lyndsay thought otherwise. The _Flora_ was larger, and was to sail a
fortnight earlier. He demurred--his wife coaxed and entreated; but he
only went so far as to tell the captain to keep the berths unoccupied
until the following day, and he would inform him of his final
determination.
Just as they were rising to take leave, a tall, lanky man, stuck his
long scraggy neck in at the cabin-door, and, in the broadest Scotch
vernacular, exclaimed,--
"To what port are ye bound, man?"
"Quebec and Montreal."
"Wull you tak' a cabin-passenger on reasonable terms?"
"The fare is fixed by the owner of the vessel, P. Gregg, Bank-street,
Leith. You had better apply to him."
"Weel, I dinna' think I'll jest go noo. I want to see the Canada lochs.
Ane o' these days I'll tak' passage wi' you onyhow."
"Perhaps a glass of brandy and water would serve your purpose at this
time," said the captain, with a knowing smile.
"I've noo objections, captain," said the long-visaged traveller to the
lochs o' Canada.
"That's one way of getting a glass of brandy for nothing," said the
captain, as he accompanied the Lyndsays to the deck. "That fellow has as
much notion of going to Canada, as I have of taking a voyage to the
moon. But he knows that I will give him the brandy to get rid of him."
"What do you think of the _Anne_ and her captain, John?" said Flora, as
she took the proffered arm of her husband. "He is a rough sailor, but
looks like an honest man. And the ship, though small, is clean, and
offers better accommodations than the _Flora_, where we should have to
share a small cabin with fourteen passengers."
"My dear wife, it may all be true what you say; but I have made up my
mind to go in the _Flora_. She sails so much earlier, that it will be a
great saving of time and expense."
Flora's countenance fell; but she only muttered to herself,--
"Oh, I have such a horror of going in that ship!"
At the turning of the street they met Mr. Peterson, the owner of the
_Flora_, to whom Lyndsay had spoken about taking a passage in her the
day before.
"Well, Mr. Lyndsay," said he, shaking hands in a friendly manner with
him; "have you concluded to take passage in my vessel?"
"Not quite," returned Lyndsay, laughing. "My wife has such an
unconquerable aversion to going with your captain and his sons, on
account of the reprobate language they used the other day in her
hearing, that she has actually found up another vessel in which she
wishes me to sail."
"Oh, the _Anne_, Captain Williams," said Peterson, with a contemptuous
smile,--"the last and the most insignificant vessel which leaves our
port. The owner, P. Gregg, is not a liberal person to deal with; the
captain is a good seaman, but a stubborn brute,--quite as unfit for the
society of ladies as Captain Ayre. To tell you the truth, we have little
choice in these matters. It is not the manners of the men we employ we
generally look to, but to their nautical skill. There is, however, one
great objection to your taking passage in the _Anne_, which I think it
right you should know. She has a most objectionable freight."
"In what respect?"
"She is loaded with brandy and gunpowder."
"By no means a pleasant cargo," said Lyndsay. "What do you say to that,
Flora?" turning to his wife.
"I will tell you to-morrow: do wait until then."
In order to pacify her evident uneasiness, Lyndsay promised to postpone
his decision.
When they reached their lodgings, they found a short, round-faced, rosy,
good-natured looking individual, waiting to receive them, who introduced
himself as Mr. Gregg, the owner of the _Anne_. He had learned from
Captain Williams, that they had been inspecting the capabilities of his
vessel.
"She is a small ship," said he, "but safe; the captain, a steady,
experienced seaman; and if Mr. Lyndsay engaged a passage for himself and
family, he would grant the most liberal terms."
Lyndsay mentioned his objections to the freight.
"Who told you that?" asked the little owner, somewhat excited.
"Mr. Peterson. We parted from him only a few minutes ago."
"The scoundrel! the mean, dirty scoundrel!" said Gregg, stamping on the
floor. "Why, Sir, Mr. Lyndsay, his own ship carries the same freight.
What did he say about that?"
"He told me yesterday, she took out a general cargo----"
"Of brandy and gunpowder. Both vessels are employed by the same house,
and take out the same freight. You must, however, please yourself, Mr.
Lyndsay. The _Flora_ has a great number of passengers of the lowest
cast,--is old and crank; with the most vicious, morose captain that
sails from this port. I know him only too well. He made two voyages for
me; and the letters I received, complaining of his brutal conduct to
some of his passengers, I can show you at my office."
"You have said enough, Mr. Gregg, to deter me from taking my wife and
child in the _Flora_. The deceitful conduct of Mr. Peterson alone would
have determined me not to contract with him. And now, what will you take
us for? Our party consists of my wife and infant, a lad of thirteen
years who accompanies us, a servant-girl, and myself."
Mr. Gregg considered for some minutes. "Well," he said, "there is a
large party of you; but I will give your wife, child, and self, a cabin
passage, finding you in the same fare as the captain, and the lad and
servant a second cabin passage, but the privilege of the cabin-table,
for thirty pounds. Is that too much?"
"It is very liberal indeed. Peterson asked fifty."
"It is reasonable; but as you have to wait a fortnight longer in order
to sail with me, I have taken that into account. Is it a bargain?"
They struck hands; and Mr. Gregg, after drawing up an agreement, which
Lyndsay signed, turned to Mrs. Lyndsay, and pressingly invited the whole
party to spend the following afternoon with them in a friendly way.
"My wife is a homely little body," he said; "but she will do her best to
make you comfortable, and will give you, at any rate, a hearty Scotch
welcome."
"Now, Flora, are you not delighted in having it your own way?" said
Lyndsay, after Mr. Gregg left them. "But let me assure you, my dear
wife, you owe it entirely to the mean conduct of Mr. Peterson. I tell
you frankly, that I would not have yielded my better judgment to a mere
prejudice, even to please you."
"You are determined, John, that I shall never fulfil the gipsy's
prophecy."
"What was that?"
"Did I never tell you that story, nor the girls either? for it was a
standing joke against me at home for years. Oh, you must have it then.
But be generous, and don't turn it as a weapon against me:--
"Some years ago, a gipsy woman came to our kitchen-door, and asked to
see the young ladies of the house. Of course, we all ran out to look at
the sybil, and hear her errand, which was nothing more nor less than to
tell our fortunes. Partly out of curiosity, partly out of fun, we
determined to have a peep into futurity, and see what the coming years
had in store for us. We did not believe in gipsy craft. We well knew
that, like our own, the woman's powers were limited; that it was all
guess-work; that her cunning rested in a shrewd knowledge of
character,--of certain likings springing out of contrasts, which led her
to match the tall with the short, the fair with the dark, the mild with
the impetuous, the sensitive and timid with the bold and adventurous. On
these seeming contrarieties the whole art of fortune-telling, as far as
my experience goes, appears based.
"Well, she gave husbands to us all--dark, fair, middle-complexioned,
short and tall, amiable, passionate, or reserved--just the opposite of
our own complexions or temperament, such as she judged them to be; and
she showed a great deal of talent and keen perception of character in
the choice of our mates.
"In my case, however, she proved herself to be no prophet. I was to
marry a sea-faring gentleman--a tall, black-eyed, passionate man--with
whom I was to travel to foreign parts, and die in a foreign land. I was
to have no children; and he was to be very jealous of me. 'And yet, for
all that,' quoth the gipsy, drawing close up to me, and whispering in my
ear, but not so low, but that all the rest heard her concluding speech,
'you shall wear the breeches.'"
"She did not bargain that you were to marry a Scotchman," said Lyndsay,
laughing.
"Nor did she know, with all her pretended art, that my husband was to be
a soldier, fair-haired, and blue-eyed, and that this little lass would
give a direct contradiction to her prophecy," and Flora kissed fondly
Josey's soft cheek. "Well, I was so tormented about that last clause in
my fortune, that I determined it should never come to pass; that
whatever portion of my husband's dress I coveted, I would scrupulously
avoid even the insertion of a toe into his nether garments."
"You forget, Flora, your trip to the mountain, without my consent?"
whispered Lyndsay, mischievously.
Flora coloured, stammered, and at last broke into a hearty laugh,--"I
was too great a coward, John, to wear them with becoming dignity. If
that was wearing the breeches, I am sure I disgraced them with my worse
than womanish fears. I will never put them on again."
"My dear wife, I'll take good care you shan't. When a Scotchman has any
breeks to wear, he likes to keep them all to himself."
"Ah! we well know what a jealous, monopolising set you are. Let any one
attempt to interfere with your rights, and, like your sturdy national
emblem, you are armed to the teeth," said Flora, as she ran off to order
tea.