Part 11 (1/2)
”Very extraordinary,” I heard him mutter, as he sank back on his pallet, ”but they were right; John has no head for business; when did he go home, my dear?”
I could not help bursting into tears at this reiterated inquiry; your uncle raised himself on his elbow and gazed in my face, and as he did so, a sudden light seemed to break in upon him. I knew suspense would be torture, and added, ”Yes, dear Laurie, he was called home this morning; his death was by a pistol-shot, purely accidental,--no pain, no distress, conscious to the last, and quite satisfied to go; he desired me to give you his love, Laurie; now you know the truth, and you shall hear every particular as soon as you are strong enough to bear it.”
Your uncle heard these tidings in perfect silence; he was calm, but too deeply heart-stricken to speak; next to me, I think he loved John better than any one in the world; often, very often, when I go into his dressing-room, I find him gazing on the sketch of him in crayons, that hangs over his chimney-piece. I will show it you when, you come to stay with us.
It was a sense of thankfulness for my preservation from danger that made your uncle bear up as he did. When I came to examine his wound I was shocked at the state it was in. A sword-cut extended from the neck over the shoulder to the arm, not only unhealed, but to the highest degree inflamed. No wonder his whole frame was fevered, for the suffering must have been severe indeed. The kind but rough treatment of his highland nurses was not calculated to promote a speedy cure; the food they brought him was not such as a sick man could eat; nor could they understand his English prejudice in favour of cleanliness. With great difficulty (he afterwards told me) he had the night of his arrival obtained a poultice, the application of which had given him such relief that he had dropped asleep. Presently, however, he was wakened by two or more rats tugging at it with all their might. He had tried to drive the intruders away, but was fairly obliged to give in, and fling the poultice to the farthest corner of the room.
I was bathing the shoulder with warm water when a stranger in the uniform of a Russian colonel appeared, and introduced himself as Dr Goloff. He went to business at once, inspected the wound, felt the pulse, then said there was no chance of his patient's improving until he was removed from that unwholesome place. The irritative fever which accompanies such a wound had been much aggravated, he said, by bad air and improper dressings. He was commissioned, he added, by his friend Captain Blundel to see Mr Englefield removed at once to Captain Blundel's tent, which was pitched for surveying purposes near the foot of this hill. No sooner said than done. A kind of litter was constructed, and your uncle placed upon it. We were about to set out when I saw Basil eyeing us from afar, sadly and gloomily. The remembrance of a shade of injustice towards him came across me painfully, so I went to him and asked him to be one of Laurie's bearers; poor Basil! he sprang to execute my bidding with a look of impa.s.sioned grat.i.tude that was most touching. With his powerful help the short journey was soon accomplished, and the litter safely set down in the large, watertight, and cheerful tent.
A painful process was needed in order to bring the wound into a right state for healing, and when it was over, Dr Goloff administered to your uncle a composing draught, adding, cheerily, ”You, monsieur, will do well to sleep, while I give madame instructions for your future treatment.” He then drew me aside, and after relieving my mind by giving a favourable opinion of the case added a strong caution against suffering Laurie's mind to dwell on painful subjects. By so doing, he said, not only would the patient's recovery be rendered tedious, but his nerves might be shaken for life. He could see that some anxiety weighed heavily on his mind; it should at all costs be removed.
”It should indeed, but how?” thought I, with a despairing sigh.
The sorrowful question was about to be answered through the mercy of that good Providence which helps even the faithless and undeserving. I was musing dolefully at the tent door when a large party appeared in the distance, and one of them spurred forward, and came up to me at full gallop. It was Captain Blundel. He dismounted, and with a beaming face said--”Good news, Mrs Englefield; I think I have brought your patient a tonic more effectual than even Dr Goloff could prescribe. When I left you an hour and a half ago, I went to the Prince-Bishop, and imparted to him our suspicions as to the true name and history of his prisoner, begging his permission to sift the matter. With his usual gentlemanlike feeling he at once granted it. I then hastened to the hut where the prisoner lay guarded by unfriendly Montenegrins. Without preamble, I said, 'I have the honour of speaking to Mr Orlando Jones, I believe?'
'Who told you my name, sir?' he exclaimed, starting to his feet in great alarm: then, perceiving the mistake he had made in thus proving his own ident.i.ty, he tried to retract, but stammered and broke down. I proceeded quietly to demand the restoration of the papers and jewels, fraudulently carried off by him from Mr Popham's office at Ragusa. He tried to shuffle off the charge. 'Very well,' said I, 'do as you please, but mark me, I am empowered by his highness to say that only by full rest.i.tution can you hope for a continuance of his protection; if that is withdrawn, your life is scarcely worth a pin's purchase.' The poor wretch turned pale and shook in every joint. Feeling, doubtless, the truth of this last remark he surrendered at discretion, entreating me to stand his friend, and confessing the whole extent of his frauds.
His property, he said, was all in the hands of his captors, but it was possible they might not have discovered the jewels as they were cunningly secreted within his saddle. To be brief, I got the Vladika's leave to examine the saddle, and found within it this packet, which I have every reason to believe is the object of your husband's search.”
Tremblingly I carried the precious packet to your dear uncle. Never shall I forget his look of relief on opening it, and finding the lost jewels safe. Some important papers were also there--everything, in fact, that was missing; for the most valuable doc.u.ments of all, Laurie had had the precaution to transfer to his office at Cattaro when his suspicions of Jones had ripened into certainty.
After warmly thanking Captain Blundel for his invaluable help, your uncle said, ”Let me ask of you, my dear friend, two more proofs of kindness. In the first place, will you undertake the safe transport of this precious packet to Cattaro, whither you say you are shortly to return; in the next, will you convey the expressions of my sincere grat.i.tude to the Prince-Bishop in the fittest terms?”
”Your first request is easily granted,” replied Captain Blundel; ”your last it would be superfluous in me to undertake, as the Vladika has expressed his intention of inquiring after you in person, and here he comes.”
I turned and saw Basil, holding up the tent curtain while his highness entered. The prince did indeed appear a Saul amongst his people.
Taller than the tallest Black Highlander from the shoulders upwards, his figure was finely modelled, his movements were free and active, his eyes dark and brilliant. Nothing about him except his long beard, which was black and glossy, reminded one of his sacred office; he wore a scarlet pelisse, fur cap, blue wide trousers, and in his belt a pair of plain pistols. He advanced towards Laurie's bed, replying with peculiar grace to my silent courtesy, then in a voice of almost languid gentleness inquiring of me after my husband's wound. He spoke in French. I took courage to reply in the same language, offering our heartfelt thanks for his intervention in our favour, and for Dr Goloff's timely aid. Laurie raised himself on one arm and joined in these acknowledgments, but the Vladika kindly bade him lie down. He remained but a few minutes with us, being in haste to resume his journey, and at his departure he frankly and cordially invited us to return his visit at Cetigna. Basil attended him back to his charger, then returned full of pride and delight to congratulate us on this honour.
We saw the kind and n.o.ble Prince-Prelate no more, as a Turkish invasion of his northern frontier hurried him away from his little capital before Laurie was well enough to be moved there. We remained ten days under Captain Blundel's canvas roof, he most kindly undertaking to superintend the removal of poor John's body to Cattaro, and its respectful interment there. Meanwhile Basil was my unwearied helper in the task of nursing Laurie--a happy task, as the beloved invalid gained strength each day.
The faithful fellow escorted us to cetigna, then flow back to his prince's side for some weeks, but managed to return to Cetigna in time to be our guide to Cattaro. How thankful I felt when I saw your dear uncle once more installed in his home! and to complete my satisfaction, his dear and early friend, Francis Popham, joined us there almost immediately, having left England on receiving from Captain Blundel the mournful tidings of his brother's death. Under his able management, affairs were soon restored to perfect order. I scarcely need to tell _you_ how it has pleased Heaven to prosper your uncle's and his joint exertions since that time, and how a few months ago your uncle became a partner in that house and we returned to live in dear old England.
Basil and Spira are still alive. ”Little Nilo” is grown a n.o.ble-looking youth as gallant as his father, and far better taught, having received a good education in one of the excellent schools founded by our friend Bishop Danilo.
Thus ends our adventure on the Black Mountain; so now to bed, all of you, and I wish you a good night and happy dreams.
CHAPTER FIVE.
THE BOATSWAIN'S SON: A TALE OF THE SEA, BY WILLIAM H.G. KINGSTON.
It was the memorable 1st of June. A sea fight ever to be renowned in history was raging between the fleets of England and France. The great guns were thundering and roaring, musketry was rattling, round-shot, and chain-shot, and grape, and langridge, and missiles of every description, invented for carrying on the b.l.o.o.d.y game of war, were hissing through the air, cras.h.i.+ng against the sides of the s.h.i.+ps, rending them asunder, shattering the tall masts and spars, sending their death-dealing fragments flying around, and hurling to the deck, mangled and bleeding, the gallant seamen as they stood at their quarters in all the pride of manhood, fighting for the honour and glory of heir respective countries.
A dark canopy hung over the scene, every moment increasing in density as the guns belched forth their flashes of flame and clouds of smoke, filling the pure air of heaven with sulphureous vapours, and almost concealing the fierce combatants from each other's gaze.
”Who is that brave youngster?” asked the captain of the renowned 'Marlborough,' a seventy-four, which lay hotly engaged surrounded by foes in the thick of the fight; ”I never saw a cooler thing or better timed.”
”The son of Mr Ripley the boatswain, sir,” was the answer.
”I must have my eye on him, there is stuff in that lad,” observed the captain. The deed which had called forth this eulogium was certainly well worthy of praise. The ”Marlborough” had for some time been furiously engaged, almost broadside to broadside, with the ”Impetueux,”
a French seventy-four, which s.h.i.+p had just fallen aboard her, the Frenchman's bowsprit becoming entangled in her mizen rigging. To keep her antagonist in that position was of the greatest consequence to the ”Marlborough,” as she might thus rake her fore and aft, receiving but little damage in return. An officer and two or three men sprang into the ”Marlborough's” mizen rigging to secure the bowsprit to it. The French small-arm men rushed forward to prevent this being done, by keeping up a fire of musketry. The two seamen fell. The lieutenant still hung in the rigging, but the rope with which he was las.h.i.+ng the bowsprit to it was shot from his hand; no other was within reach.
Having just delivered the powder he had brought from below, young Ripley was watching the proceeding. Seizing a rope he sprang into the ringing unhurt amid a shower of bullets, and handed it to the brave officer.
Together they made the required turns for las.h.i.+ng it fast, and descended to the deck in safety. The young powder-boy then resuming his tub was speedily again seen at his station, composedly sitting on the top of it as if he had performed no unusual deed. The ”Marlborough” had soon another antagonist, the ”Mucius,” seventy-four, which fell aboard her on the bow, the three s.h.i.+ps thus forming a triangle, of which the British s.h.i.+p was the base. With these two opponents, each more powerful than she was, the ”Marlborough” continued the seemingly unequal fight, but the stout arms and hearts of her crew made amends for their inferiority in numbers. Her mizen-mast fell soon after the ”Mucius” engaged her, her fore and main masts followed, and the Frenchmen began to hope that victory was to be theirs, but they had not discovered at that time the stuff of which British tars are made. Though dismasted herself, she had her foes fast so that they could not escape. So well did her crew work their guns, that they quickly shot away the bowsprit and all the lower masts of the ”Impetueux,” those of the ”Mucius” soon sharing the same fate. At this juncture another French s.h.i.+p, the ”Montague,” pa.s.sing under the ”Marlborough's” stern, fired a broadside into her of round-shot and langridge, killing many of her brave crew, and wounding among others her captain, though receiving but a few shots in return.
The first battle in that long, protracted, and b.l.o.o.d.y war was over, and won by England's veteran admiral, Lord Howe; six of the enemy's finest line of battle s.h.i.+ps forming the prize of victory, and among them the ”Impetueux.”
The ”Marlborough's” captain had not forgot the promise he had made to himself in favour of Young Ripley. As he lay wounded in his cabin he sent for the boatswain. The proud father had heard of his son's gallantry, and the captain's words had been repeated to him. It would have been difficult to find a finer specimen of the superior cla.s.s of British seaman, the pith and sinew of the navy, than the boatswain of the ”Marlborough” presented, as, still in the prime of manhood, he stood, hat in hand, before his captain. By his manner and appearance he looked indeed well fitted for the higher ranks of his profession, but it was his lot to be a boatswain, and he did not complain. With unfeigned satisfaction he heard the account of his son's gallantry and coolness rehea.r.s.ed by the captain's lips.