Mr. Meeson's Will: Chapter 11

Chapter 11

RESCUED.

Augusta woke up just as the dawn was stealing across the sodden sky. It
was the smarting of her shoulders that woke her. She rose, leaving Dick
yet asleep, and, remembering the turmoil of the night, hurried to the
other hut. It was empty.

She turned and looked about her. About fifteen paces from where she was
lay the shell that the two drunkards had used as a cup. Going forward,
she picked it up. It still smelt disgustingly of spirits. Evidently the
two men had dropped it in the course of their midnight walk, or rather
roll. Where had they gone to?

Straight in front of her a rocky promontory ran out fifty paces or more
into the waters of the fjord-like bay. She walked along it aimlessly till
presently she perceived one of the sailor's hats lying on the ground, or,
rather, floating in a pool of water. Clearly they had gone this way. On
she went to the point of the little headland, sheer over the water. There
was nothing to be seen, not a single vestige of Bill and Johnnie.
Aimlessly enough she leant forward and stared over the rocky wall, and
down into the clear water, and then started back with a little cry.

No wonder that she started, for there on the sand, beneath a fathom and a
half of quiet water, lay the bodies of the two ill-fated men. They were
locked in each other's arms, and lay as though they were asleep upon that
ocean bed. How they came to their end she never knew. Perhaps they
quarrelled in their drunken anger and fell over the little cliff; or
perhaps they stumbled and fell not knowing whither they were going. Who
can say? At any rate, there they were, and there they remained, till the
outgoing tide floated them off to join the great army of their companions
who had gone down with the Kangaroo. And so Augusta was left alone.

With a heavy heart she returned to the hut, pressed down by the weight of
solitude, and the sense that in the midst of so much death she could not
hope to escape. There was no human creature left alive in that vast
lonely land, except the child and herself, and so far as she could see
their fate would soon be as the fate of the others. When she got back to
the hut, Dick was awake and was crying for her.

The still, stiff form of Mr. Meeson, stretched out beneath the sail,
frightened the little lad, he did not know why. Augusta took him into her
arms and kissed him passionately. She loved the child for his own sake;
and, besides, he, and he alone, stood between her and utter solitude.
Then she took him across to the other hut, which had been vacated by the
sailors, for it was impossible to stay in the one with the body, which
was too heavy for her to move. In the centre of the sailors' hut stood
the cask of rum which had been the cause of their destruction. It was
nearly empty now--so light, indeed, that she had no difficulty in rolling
it to one side. She cleaned out the place as well as she could, and
returning to where Mr. Meeson's body lay, fetched the bag of biscuits and
the roasted eggs, after which they had their breakfast.

Fortunately there was but little rain that morning, so Augusta took Dick
out to look for eggs, not because they wanted any more, but in order to
employ themselves. Together they climbed up on to a rocky headland, where
the flag was flying, and looked out across the troubled ocean. There was
nothing in sight so far as the eye could see--nothing but the white
wave-horses across which the black cormorants steered their swift,
unerring flight. She looked and looked till her heart sank within her.

"Will Mummy soon come in a boat to take Dick away?" asked the child at
her side, and then she burst into tears.

When she had recovered herself they set to collecting eggs, an occupation
which, notwithstanding the screams and threatened attacks of the birds,
delighted Dick greatly. Soon they had as many as she could carry; so they
went back to the hut and lit a fire of drift-wood, and roasted some eggs
in the hot ashes; she had no pot to boil them in. Thus, one way and
another the day wore away, and at last the darkness began to fall over
the rugged peaks behind and the wild wilderness of sea before. She put
Dick to bed and he went off to sleep. Indeed, it was wonderful to see how
well the child bore the hardships through which they were passing. He
never had an ache or a pain, or even a cold in the head.

After Dick was asleep Augusta sat, or rather lay, in the dark listening
to the moaning of the wind as it beat upon the shanty and passed away in
gusts among the cliffs and mountains beyond. The loneliness was something
awful, and together with the thought of what the end of it would probably
be, quite broke her spirit down. She knew that the chances of her escape
were small indeed. Ships did not often come to this dreadful and
uninhabited coast, and if one should happen to put in there, it was
exceedingly probable that it would touch at some other point and never
see her or her flag. And then in time the end would come. The supply of
eggs would fail, and she would be driven to supporting life upon such
birds as she could catch, till at last the child sickened and died, and
she followed it to that dim land that lies beyond Kerguelen and the
world. She prayed that the child might die first. It was awful to think
that perhaps it might be the other way about: she might die first, and
the child might be left to starve beside her. The morrow would be
Christmas Day. Last Christmas Day she had spent with her dead sister at
Birmingham. She remembered that they went to church in the morning, and
after dinner she had finished correcting the last revises of "Jemima's
Vow." Well, it seemed likely that long before another Christmas came she
would have gone to join little Jeannie. And then, being a good and
religious girl, Augusta rose to her knees and prayed to Heaven with all
her heart and soul to rescue them from their terrible position, or, if
she was doomed to perish, at least to save the child.

And so the long cold night wore away in thought and vigil, till at last,
some two hours before the dawn, she got to sleep. When she opened her
eyes again it was broad daylight, and little Dick, who had been awake
some time beside her, was sitting up playing with the shell which Bill
and Johnnie had used to drink rum out of. She rose and put the child's
things a little to rights, and then, as it was not raining, told him to
run outside while she went through the form of dressing by taking off
such garments as she had, shaking them, and putting them on again. She
was slowly going through this process, and wondering how long it would
be before her shoulders ceased to smart from the effects of the
tattooing, when Dick came running in without going through the formality
of knocking.

"Oh, Auntie! Auntie!" he sang out in high glee, "here's a big ship coming
sailing along. Is it Mummy and Daddie coming to fetch Dick?"

Augusta sank back faint with the sudden revulsion of feeling. If there
was a ship, they were saved--snatched from the very jaws of death. But
perhaps it was the child's fancy. She threw on the body of her dress;
and, her long yellow hair--which she had in default of better means been
trying to comb out with a bit of wood--streaming behind her, she took the
child by the hand, and flew as fast as she could go down the little rocky
promontory off which Bill and Johnnie had met their end. Before she got
half-way down it, she saw that the child's tale was true--for there,
sailing right up the fjord from the open sea, was a large vessel. She was
not two hundred yards from where she stood, and her canvas was being
rapidly furled preparatory to the anchor being dropped.

Thanking Providence for the sight as she never thanked anything before,
Augusta sped on till she got to the extreme point of the promontory, and
stood there waving Dick's little cap towards the vessel, which moved
slowly and majestically on, till presently, across the clear water, came
the splash of the anchor, followed by the sound of the fierce rattle of
the chain through the hawse-pipes. Then there came another sound--the
glad sound of human voices cheering. She had been seen.

Five minutes passed, and then she saw a boat lowered and manned. The oars
were got out, and presently it was backing water within ten paces of her.

"Go round there," she called, pointing to the little bay, "and I will
meet you."

By the time that she had got to the spot the boat was already beached,
and a tall, thin, kindly-faced man was addressing her in an unmistakable
Yankee accent, "Cast away, Miss?" he said interrogatively.

"Yes," gasped Augusta; "we are the survivors of the Kangaroo, which sank
in a collision with a whaler about a week ago."

"Ah!" said the captain, "with a whaler? Then I guess that's where my
consort has gone to. She's been missing about a week, and I put in here
to see if I could get upon her tracks--also to fill up with water. Well,
she was well insured, anyway, and when last we spoke her, she had made a
very poor catch. But perhaps, Miss, you will, at your convenience, favour
me with a few particulars?"

Accordingly, Augusta sketched the history of their terrible adventure in
as few words as possible; and the tale was one that made even the
phlegmatic Yankee captain stare. Then she took him, followed by the crew,
to the hut where Meeson lay dead, and to the other hut, where she and
Dick had slept upon the previous night.

"Wall, Miss," said the captain, whose name was Thomas, "I guess that you
and the youngster will be almost ready to vacate these apartments; so, if
you please, I will send you off to the ship, the Harpoon--that's her
name--of Norfolk, in the United States. You will find her well flavoured
with oil, for we are about full to the hatches; but, perhaps, under the
circumstances, you will not mind that. Anyway, my Missus, who is
aboard--having come the cruise for her health--and who is an Englishwoman
like you, will do all she can to make you comfortable. And I tell you
what it is, Miss; if I was in any way pious, I should just thank the
Almighty that I happened to see that there bit of a flag with my spyglass
as I was sailing along the coast at sun-up this morning, for I had no
intention of putting in at this creek, but at one twenty miles along. And
now, Miss, if you'll go aboard, some of us will stop and just tuck up the
dead gentleman as well as we can."

Augusta thanked him from her heart, and, going into the hut, got her hat
and the roll of sovereigns which had been Mr. Meeson's, but which he had
told her to take, leaving the blankets to be brought by the men.

Then two of the sailors got into the little boat belonging to the
Kangaroo, in which Augusta had escaped, and rowed her and Dick away from
that hateful shore to where the whaler--a fore-and-aft-schooner--was
lying at anchor. As they drew near, she saw the rest of the crew of the
Harpoon, among whom was a woman, watching their advent from the deck,
who, when she got her foot upon the companion ladder, one and all set up
a hearty cheer. In another moment she was on deck--which,
notwithstanding its abominable smell of oil, seemed to her the fairest
and most delightful place that her eyes had ever rested on--and being
almost hugged by Mrs. Thomas, a pleasant-looking woman of about thirty,
the daughter of a Suffolk farmer who had emigrated to the States. And
then, of course, she had to tell her story all over again; after which
she was led off to the cabin occupied by the captain and his wife (and
which thenceforth was occupied by Augusta, Mrs. Thomas, and little
Dick), the captain shaking down where he could. And here, for the first
time for nearly a week, she was able to wash and dress herself properly.
And oh, the luxury of it! Nobody knows what the delights of clean linen
really mean till he or she has had to dispense with it under
circumstances of privation; nor have they the slightest idea of what a
difference to one's well-being and comfort is made by the possession or
non-possession of an article so common as a comb. Whilst Augusta was
still combing out her hair with sighs of delight, Mrs. Thomas knocked at
the door and was admitted.

"My! Miss; what beautiful hair you have, now that it is combed out!" she
said in admiration; "why, whatever is that upon your shoulders?"

Then Augusta had to tell the tale of the tattooing, which by-the-way, it
struck her, it was wise to do so, seeing that she thus secured a witness
to the fact, that she was already tattooed on leaving Kerguelen Land,
and that the operation had been of such recent infliction that the flesh
was still inflamed with it. This was the more necessary as the tattooing
was undated.

Mrs. Thomas listened to the story with her mouth open, lost between
admiration of Augusta's courage, and regret that her shoulders should
have been ruined in that fashion.

"Well, the least that he" (alluding to Eustace) "can do is to marry you
after you have spoilt yourself in that fashion for his benefit," said the
practical Mrs. Thomas.

"Nonsense! Mrs. Thomas," said Augusta, blushing till the tattoo marks on
her shoulders looked like blue lines in a sea of crimson, and stamping
her foot with such energy that her hostess jumped.

There was no reason why she should give an innocent remark such a
warm reception; but then, as the reader will no doubt have observed,
the reluctance that some young women show to talking of the
possibility of their marriage to the man they happen to have set
their hearts on, is only equalled by the alacrity with which they
marry him when the time comes.

Having set Dick and Augusta down to a breakfast of porridge and coffee,
which both of them thought delicious, though the fare was really rather
coarse, Mrs. Thomas, being unable to restrain her curiosity, rowed off to
the land to see the huts and also Mr. Meeson's remains, which, though not
a pleasant sight, were undoubtedly an interesting one. With her, too,
went most of the crew, bent upon the same errand, and also on obtaining
water, of which the Harpoon was short.

As soon as she was left alone, Augusta went back to the cabin, taking
Dick with her, and laid down on the berth with a feeling of safety and
thankfulness to which she had long been a stranger, where very soon she
fell sound asleep.

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