The Island of Gold Part 19

"'They should keep out o' the way, then, when people are dancing.'

"The hours sped quickly by, as they always do in a ballroom, and by the time James and I got on board the _Sea Flower_ four bells in the middle-watch were ringing out through the still, dark night. But all was safe and quiet on board.

"I took a turn on deck to enjoy a cigar before going below, just by way of cooling my brow. When I went down at last, why, there was James seated at the table, his mother's Bible before him, and, as usual, the awful specs across his nose.

"Poor James, he was a strange man, but a sincere friend, as the sequel will show."

Book 2--CHAPTER FIVE.

"TILL THE SEA GIVES UP ITS DEAD."

From Madeira, where we stayed for many days, going on sh.o.r.e every forenoon to sell some of our cargo to the shopkeepers, and every afternoon for a long ride--horse and hammock--over some part or other of this island of enchantment, sometimes finis.h.i.+ng up with a dance--from all this pleasure and delight, I say, we sailed away at last.

"South and away we sailed, and in due time we reached and anch.o.r.ed off Saint James's Town, Saint Helena.

"Now, Saint Helena had not figured in our programme when we left Merry England. But here we were, and a most delightful place I found it.

Hills and dells, mountains and glens; wild flowers everywhere; and the blue eternal sea dotted with many a snow-white sail, engirdling all.

This, then, was the 'lonely sterile rock in the midst of the wild tempestuous ocean,' to which Napoleon had been banished.

"James had been here before, although I had not, so everything was of interest to me, and everything new. And my good mate determined to make it as pleasant for me as possible. He seemed to know every one, and every one appeared delighted to see him. Such remarks as the following fell upon our ears at every corner:--

"'Well, you've got back again, James?'

"'What! here you are once more, James, and welcome.'

"'Dee--lighted to see you, certain--lee!'

"'Ah! Jeames,'--this from a very aged crone, who was seated on a stone dais near her door, basking in the warm, white suns.h.i.+ne--'ah! Jeames, and sure the Lord is good to me. And my old eyes are blessed once more wi' a sight o' your kindly face!'

"'Glad to see you alive, Frilda. And look, I have got a pound of tea for you. And I'll come to-night and read a bit out of my mother's Good Book to you.'

"'Bless you, Jeames--bless you, my boy.'

"We went rambling all over the island that day. We visited the fort, where James had many friends; then we went up a beautiful glen, and on reaching the top we struck straight off at right angles, and a walk of about half a mile took us to one of the most pleasantly situated farms I have ever seen. It was owned by the farmer, a Scotsman of the name of MacDonald. Nothing flimsy about this fine house. The walls were built of st.u.r.dy stone, and must have been some feet thick, so that indoors in the cheerful parlour it was cool and delightful, especially so with the odour of orange blossom blowing through the open window and pervading the whole room.

"'Man, James, I'm so pleased. Here! Hi! Mrs Mac, where are you?

Here's James Malone, the honest, simple sumph come back again. Jamie, man, ye must stop all night and give us a song.'

"'We--ll--I--'

"'No _wells_ nor _I's_ about it. And your friend here too.'

"Mrs Mac was a very little body, with rosy cheeks, a merry voice, and blue eyes that looked you through and through.

"A little girl and boy came running in, and James soon had one on each knee; and while I and MacDonald talked in the window recess, he was deep in the mysteries of a mermaid story, his tiny audience listening with wondering eyes and rosy lips apart.

"Mrs Mac had gone bustling away to send in a dram of hollands, cunningly flavoured with seeds and fruit rind. She disappeared immediately again, to send orders down to James's Town for fish and fowl.

"Of course we would stay all night?

"'Well,' I said, 'the s.h.i.+p is safe, unless a tornado blows.'

"'There will be no tornado, sir,' said Farmer Mac.

"'I'll send off, then, and tell the second mate.'

"'My henchman is at your service, Captain Halcott.'

"'And look, see,' cried James, 'just tell your henchman to bring my Good Book and specs. I haven't the heart to disappoint old Mother Banks.'

"'And the guitar,' I added.

"'Well--well, yes.'

"The children clapped their hands with glee, and Maggie, the girl, pulled James's face towards her by the whiskers and kissed him.

"We started next for Longwood and Napoleon's tomb. Maggie and Jack--ten and nine years old respectively--came with us, and a right pleasant day we spent. There were bright-winged birds flitting hither and thither in the dazzling suns.h.i.+ne, and singing sweet and low in trees of darkest green; but the happy voices of the children made sweeter music far to my ears, and I'm sure to James's too.

"All along the roadsides at some parts grew the tall cacti; they were one ma.s.s of gorgeous crimson bloom, and here and there between, the ground was carpeted with trailing blossoms white and blue; yet, in my opinion, the laughing rosebud lips of Maggie and Jack's saucy eyes of blue were prettier far than the flowers.

"And here, on the top of the dingle or glen, and overlooking the sea, were Napoleon's house and garden.

"'Why, James,' I cried, 'this isn't a dungeon any more than Saint Helena is a rock. It strikes me--a simple sailor--that Nap must have had fine times of it.'

"'No, sir, no,' said James, shaking his head. 'Plenty to eat and drink, plenty o' good clothes to wear, but ah! Charles Halcott, he wasn't free, and there burned inside him an unquenchable fire. When in action, on the field, or on the march, he had little time to think; but here, in this solitude, the seared conscience regained its softness, and in his thoughts by day and in his dreams at the dead hours o' night, Charles Halcott, rose visions of the terrible misery he brought on Europe, and the black and awful deeds he did in Egypt. O sir, if you want to punish a man, leave him alone to his conscience!'

"James Malone was in fine form that evening at Farmer Mac's. He sang and he yarned time about--the songs for the children, the yarns for us.

Parodying Tam o' Shanter, I might say:--

"'The nicht drave on wi' sangs and clatter, Wi' childish glee, wi' bairnies' patter; The sailor tauld his queerest stories, The farmer's laugh was ready chorus; Till, hark! the clock strikes in the hall The wee short oor ayont the twal.'

"Before dinner that evening simple James had gone to see old Mother Banks, and he spent a whole hour with her.

"'Good-bye, dear laddie,' she said, when he rose to leave; 'I'll pray for ye on the ragin' sea, but I know the Lord will never let me behold ye again.'

"And simple James's eyes were wet with tears as he held her skinny hand for a moment, then dropped it and bore away up the street, never once looking back, so full was his heart.

"When the clock struck one, James shyly proposed a few moments'

devotion. Then he mounted the awful specs and opened the Good Book.

"Half an hour after this, all in the great house were asleep, and not a sound could I hear--for I lay long awake thinking--save the sighing of the wind in the trees above my open jalousies, to me a very sweet and soothing sound.

"'Heigho!' I murmured to myself. 'Will I _ever_ have a home on the green earth, I wonder, or shall I die on the blue sea?'

"Then I began to doze, and mingling with my waking thoughts came dreams which proved that poor James's prescriptions had not yet been entirely successful.