On Board the Esmeralda Part 1

On Board the Esmeralda.

by John Conroy Hutcheson.

CHAPTER ONE.

EARLY DAYS.

It is strange what trifling events--little things apparently in themselves--seem to have the power of shaping our different destinies, and colouring, so to speak, the whole course of our subsequent life!

To ill.u.s.trate this, I may state without exaggeration that, had it not been for Dr h.e.l.lyer's hat--taken in connection with the mischievous promptings of that madcap Tom Larkyns, my special chum at the time--it is more than probable that the grand climax which so abruptly brought my school-days to a close might have been averted; and, in that case, following out the argument, I should not have gone to sea; have never started on that disastrous voyage round Cape Horn which nearly terminated my then newly-commenced nautical career as summarily as my whilom academical studies had been put a stop to just previously; and, as a natural consequence, I should most certainly have never had the opportunity or necessity for spinning the present yarn. But, perhaps, the best plan for me to pursue, in order to make you fully understand the matter in all its bearings, will be to "begin at the beginning," as your regular 'longsh.o.r.e professional storytellers say, in the good old- fas.h.i.+oned way, without any more backing and filling, and veering and hauling, which mode of progression, as every decent sailor knows, only tends to take a craft off her proper true course, and make lots of leeway; whereas, if we sail on free, with a fair wind and a steady helm, you'll soon be able to follow in my wake and form a correct opinion of your own as to the merits of my logical conclusions.

I will now, therefore, put back again and select a fresh point of departure after this little bit of sea lawyering; so, here goes for a start in earnest!

My name is Martin Leigh, and my mother died shortly after I was born, worse luck for me! My father, who was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, being within a year or two subsequently killed in action up the Niger river on the west coast of Africa, I was left an orphan at a very early age, without having ever experienced, even in my most remote childish recollections, those two greatest of all blessings--a mother's love and parental guidance--which many who have been more fortunate than myself to possess are, as I have frequently noticed in after-life, but too often in the habit of undervaluing and making light of.

At the time of my birth, my father was abroad on service in the exercise of his profession, having no private fortune or other resources which would have enabled him to live at home on his half-pay; and on my mother's early death I was taken charge of at his request by his brother, a man considerably older than himself, with a wife and family of his own. Of course, while my father lived he made over a portion of the _honorarium_ given him by a grateful country in return for exposing his life at the call of duty; but, on his suddenly succ.u.mbing to the effects of a murderous slug shot through the lungs, fired from the old flint musket of one of the King of Abarri's adherents, in the pestilential African stream up which he had gone to demolish a native stronghold that had defied the fetish of the British flag, this allowance for my support ceased, and I was thenceforth left a poor pensioner on my uncle's bounty. I will do my relative the justice of stating that I do not believe he would have grudged the extra expense I entailed on his already well-populated household, had it not been for my aunt. This lady, however, affectionately regarded me as an interloper from the very first; and I have a vivid memory, even now, of the aggravating way she had of talking about the food I ate and the clothes I wore out--although, goodness knows, my tailor's bill could not have amounted to much in those days, as I was invariably made the residuary legatee of my elder cousin Ralph's cast-off jackets and trousers, which, when pretty nearly dilapidated, used to be made over to my use, after being first cut down by my Aunt Matilda's own fair hands to suit my more juvenile proportions.

To make a long story short, I could plainly perceive, young as I was, long before I had cut my eye teeth, that I was looked upon as an uncalled-for inc.u.mbrance by my relatives, senior and junior alike--Aunt Matilda never being dissuaded, by any fear of hurting my feelings, from continually speaking of my pauper condition, and throwing it, as it were, in my face, wondering in her hypocritical way what special sin she could have committed that she should thus be afflicted in having to "deny her own children their rightful bread," that I, miserable orphan, might "wax fat and kick," as she said; while my cousins, who were a very mean lot, dutifully followed the example set them by their mother, in making me "realise my position," as they termed their cruel tyranny.

Uncle George used sometimes to take my part when some hazy recollection of his dead brother came before his mind, declaring that as long as he had a crust to spare I should not want; still, as the incessant dropping of water will in the end wear away stone, so my aunt's persistent nagging and iteration of my shortcomings in resisting my cousins'

bullying had their due effect in time.

The upshot was that, when I had just turned my twelfth year and had experienced a childhood of martyrdom which I trust few others situated like myself will ever have to undergo, my uncle came to the determination of sending me away to a cheap boarding-school at a distance, where I was to be taught and boarded and "found" for the munificent sum I believe of twelve pounds annually. The proviso was, I may add, especially insisted on by my Aunt Matilda, that I was not to return "home"--I beg that hearty word's pardon for so misapplying it-- for the holidays at any period whatever, but was to spend my whole time under the academical roof-tree until my pupilage should expire.

Hitherto I had received no regular instruction whatever, and had it not been for the kind offices of a good-natured servant-maid, I would have been unable either to read or write. Indeed, I believe the neighbours must have gossiped about my neglected state and the position I occupied in the house, where I had to perform all sorts of menial offices, and was hardly ever allowed out of doors, except on Sundays, when I had to go to the chapel which my aunt attended. Be that as it may, at all events, I was told by my friend, the maid-servant aforesaid, that the minister of this chapel had remonstrated on my behalf. Thence came the determination on my uncle's part to send me to school; for I am certain that if my dear aunt could have had her own way, without the fear of being talked about in the locality, she would much rather have entrusted me to the care of the parochial authorities. However, in whatever way the matter was decided, I know that when I heard the news I felt inclined to jump for joy, considering "going to school," which is so dreaded at first by boys with happier homes than I had been accustomed to, would be a delightful deliverance from the misery to which I had been condemned from infancy in my uncle's house--living like an Ishmael, with every hand, save that of Uncle George and Molly the maid, raised against me.

"Now, Martin," said my uncle, when he informed me of the result of the family council held on my case, "as I'm only a poor man, I'm straining a point and crippling my means in order to send you to school; but I am doing it so that you may be educated to earn your own living, which you'll have to do as soon as the three years expire for which I have contracted with Dr h.e.l.lyer; after that it will be out of my power to do anything further for you."

"All right, uncle," said I, buoyantly, so carried away with excitement at the news that I almost felt kindly disposed towards my aunt, who was standing by, although she tried to damp my spirits as much as in her lay.

"You are only throwing away your money, George," she remarked acidly to my uncle. "He has always shown an ungrateful, thankless disposition; and his bad, undutiful temper will be certain to bring him to ruin!"

"Let us hope not," replied uncle, placidly. He was a quiet, easy-going business man, employed in the City, and used to let things quietly take their own course, except when sometimes they touched him too keenly to be left unnoticed. He then went on addressing me:

"You will have to be steady and diligent, making the most of your time; and the master will report to me every quarter as to your conduct and zeal in learning."

"Nice reports they'll be!" interposed my aunt, mockingly.

"Well, well," hurriedly concluded Uncle George, to get the thing ended as soon as possible. "Your fortune is all in your own hands, and I hope and trust, if only for your father's sake, you will turn out well!

Remember, that if Dr h.e.l.lyer gives a good general report of you at the end of your three years' term, I'll try to get you into a City warehouse or office; but if you behave badly, why, you'll have to s.h.i.+ft for yourself, and go your own course, as I shall wash my hands of you!"

There the conversation ended, with an intimation that I was to go to Dr h.e.l.lyer's school in three days' time.

The interval pa.s.sed like a whirlwind to me; for not only were my thoughts full of the new life on which I was entering, but there was in addition the very unusual bustle attendant on my being provided with a wardrobe--I for whom anything had been good enough before! My uncle, however, had now made it a _sine qua non_ that I should be fitted out properly with decent clothes, and, consequently, my aunt was obliged to furnish me with a thorough rig, selected from my Cousin Ralph's surplus stock. One thing pleased me in this better than all else! It was that, instead of having my outer raiment composed, as previously, of Ralph's cast-off garments, I was measured for an entirely new suit of my own.

This alone was an unexpected gratification; for I hated the fact of my being compelled to wear Ralph's discarded clothes. It had been gall and wormwood to me. I loathed myself for having to put them on, and loathed him as the malicious instrument that caused me to be so degraded--the more especially as my cousin would in "a friendly sort of way"

frequently allude to the circ.u.mstance of the clothes having been formerly his, calling attention to my want of care in treating them properly!

All things have an end, fortunately, and the morning arrived at last when I had to bid farewell to the villa on the outskirts of Islington where I had pa.s.sed so many miserable years. Molly, the servant-maid, was the only one in the house with whom I parted with any regret; and it was with feelings considerably more exultant than sad that I accompanied my uncle to the City in the omnibus which he always took to his place of business, that convenient vehicle pa.s.sing by in its route the corner of the road where uncle lived.

Arriving at the London Bridge terminus, Uncle George ensconced me and my box in a train, bound for Beachampton, at which retired and out-of-the- way little watering-place was situated Dr h.e.l.lyer's school.

Handing me then my railway ticket and a two-and-sixpenny "tip," Uncle George gave me a hearty hand-shake, wis.h.i.+ng me good-bye and a safe journey.

"Mind you be a good boy, and pay attention to your lessons," he said.

"And--listen, Martin--should you ever be in any serious trouble, you can write and let me know. But mind," added Uncle George, "you mustn't forget, my boy, to address your letters to my office, and not to the villa; for your Aunt Matilda might not like the idea, you know, eh!"

"All right, Uncle George," I answered. "I will remember where to write to, never fear. Good-bye now, and thank you for all your kindness to me."

"Good-bye, Martin!" he echoed; and, as the train moved slowly out of the station, I really felt quite sorry to part with him; but, as the panting engine proceeded on its way, going faster as it emerged from the labyrinthic terminus on to the open line, dragging the groaning, wheezing, jolting carriages behind it--the clatter of the wheels and rattle of the coupling-chains keeping time with the puffs and pants of escaping steam--my temporary emotion at parting with Uncle George was banished by the exultant feeling of being set free, like a bird let loose from a cage.

I was only conscious that I was flying along to new scenes and new surroundings, where everything would be fresh and novel, and entirely unlike what I had previously been accustomed to at Tapioca Villa.

CHAPTER TWO.

AT BEACHAMPTON.

My journey "down the line" was a momentous matter to me in more ways than one; for, independently of the fact of its being the first opportunity I had ever had of riding in a railway train, it was while travelling down to Brighton, and thence along the endless south coast route past Sh.o.r.eham and Worthing, that I had my first sight of the sea-- that sea on whose restless bosom my floating home was to be made for many a year afterwards in good fortune and ill.

I must confess, however, that this first view of the element did not impress me very greatly, in spite of the tendency of my mind at that period to take a rose-coloured view of everything new that came within range of my vision, so long as it was totally disconnected with old a.s.sociations of the Islington villa; for, from the window of the third- cla.s.s carriage, whence I was peering out eagerly to see all that was to be seen, the marine horizon that stretched out before my gaze appeared more like a large inverted wash-hand basin than anything else, with the s.h.i.+ps that were going up and down Channel, seeming to be sailing in a curve along its outer rim; while, instead of the vivid hue of cerulean blue that had been pictured in my imagination as the invariable tint of Neptune's domain, the sober tone of the tumid element was that of a dull brownish-grey, reflecting the unwholesome leaden-tinged sky above, and, there being no wind to speak of, there wasn't the ghost of a ripple perceptible on its sullen, silent surface!

Even novelty tires after a time, and long before I had reached my destination I had got heartily sick of railway travelling; so, I was very glad when, after changing carriages at a junction between Brighton and somewhere else on the line, sometimes going fast, sometimes slow, and thus crawling along landwise and seaward through miles of country for four hours or more, the train came to a standstill beside the platform of the little station to which I had been consigned on leaving London.

"'Champt'n! 'Champt'n!" cried out somebody with a cracked voice, and this sound approximating to the name of the place I was looking out for, combined with the fact that the engine began vigorously to blow off steam, I became convinced that I had arrived at my goal; so, out I got from the uncomfortable and cus.h.i.+onless carriage in which I had performed the toilsome journey, not forgetting, you may be sure, the box containing my grand rig-out of new clothes, which Aunt Matilda would not let me wear on the journey for fear, as she said, of my spoiling them.

This box I had carefully kept on a seat beside me, in full view of my watchful eye, all the way, lest some accident might befall it, although not another soul save myself occupied the compartment.

When taking leave of me, Uncle George had said that some responsible person would meet me on my arrival at the station to take charge of me, from the "scholastic establishment;" and as I had conceived the most magnificent ideas of this place from a lithograph I had seen at the top of the prospectus referring to it, representing a palatial mansion standing in its own grounds, with a commanding view of the adjacent sea, I stared about the platform, expecting to see a gorgeous footman in livery or some other imposing personage, who would presently step up requesting me to take a seat in a coach-and-four or similar stately vehicle, and then drive me off in triumph to the educational mansion.

But, lo and behold! no footman or imposing personage made his appearance; nor did any one seem to be on the look-out for my insignificant self. My spirits began to sink almost to zero, which point they reached anon in the descending scale, when, as soon as everybody else who had come by the train had bustled out of the station, an old and broken-down looking porter, in a shabby velveteen jacket, standing on the other side of the line, shouted out to me across the rails in a tone of inquiry, and in a voice which I immediately recognised as that which had screeched out the name of the place as the train ran in--

"B'y fur h.e.l.lyer's, hey?"

I felt annihilated.

"Do you mean to ask whether I am the new pupil for Dr h.e.l.lyer's establishment?" I said--with some dignity, I flatter myself.

But that horrible porter was not a bit abashed!

"Yees," he drawled out in his cracked accents, with an intonation that clearly evinced the fact of his having been born in Suss.e.x. "h.e.l.lyer's school i' the village, b'y, that's wat I mean! Y'er to come along o'

me. Poot yer box on yer shoulder and cra.s.s the line, young maister, an'

I'll shoo yer way down."

This was not to be borne.

I had been treated like a menial in my uncle's household, and had perforce to bear it, but I had made up my mind on leaving Tapioca Villa that I should never be so degraded again if I could possibly help it.

It wasn't likely, therefore, that I was now going to be at the beck and call of a railway porter, after all my boastful resolves--not quite!