CHAPTER XXIV.
THE FRENCHMAN DIES.
However, if I expected my Frenchman to sit very long silent, he soonundeceived me by beginning to complain in his tremulous aged voice ofhis weakness and aching limbs.
"'Tis the terrible cold that has affected me," said he, whilst his headnodded nervously. "I feel the rheumatism in every bone. There is noweakness like the rheumatic, I have heard, and 'tis true, 'tis true. Itmay lay me along--yes, by the Virgin, 'tis rheumatism--what else?" Herehe was interrupted by a long fit of coughing, and when it was ended heturned to address me again, but looked at the bulkhead on my right, asif his vision could not fix me. "But my capers are not over!" he cried,setting up his rickety shrill throat; "no, no! Vive l'amour! vive lajoie! The sun is coming--the sun is the fountain of life--ay, mon brave,there are some shakes in these stout legs yet!" He shook his head witha fine air of cunning and knowingness, grinning very oddly; and then,falling grave with a startling suddenness, he began to dribble out apiratical love-story he had once before favoured me with, describing thecharms of the woman with a horrid leer, his head nodding with thenervous affection of age all the time, whilst he looked blindly in mydirection--a hideous and yet pitiful object!
I could not say that his mind was gone, but he talked with many breaksfor breath, and not very coherently, as though the office of his tonguewas performed by habit rather than memory, so that he often went farastray and babbled into sentences that had no reference to what had gonebefore, though on the whole I managed to collect what he meant. I wassure he had not power enough of vision to observe me in the dim reddishlight of the cook-room, and this being so, he could not know I waspresent, more particularly as he could not hear me, yet he persisted inhis poor babble, which was a behaviour in him that, more than even thematter of his speech, persuaded me of his imbecility.
He made no reference to our situation, and in solemn truth I believe hismemory retained no more than a few odds and ends of the evil story ofhis life, like bits of tarnished lace and a rusty button or two lying inthe bottom of a dark chest that has long been emptied of the clothes itonce held.
But my condition made such heavy demands upon my thoughts that I hadvery much less attention to give to this surprising phenomenon ofsenility than its uncommon merits deserved. It has puzzled every memberof the faculty that I have mentioned it to, the supposition being that,given the case of suspended animation, there is no waste, and the personwould quit his stupor with the same powers and aspect as he possessedwhen he entered it, though it lasted a thousand years. But grantingthere is no waste, Time is always present waiting to settle accountswhen the sleeper lifts his head. There may be an artificial interval,during which the victim might show as my pirate did, but the poised loadof years is severed on a sudden by the scythe and becomessuperincumbent, and with the weight comes the transformation; and thistheory, as the only eye-witness of the marvellous thing, I will hold andmaintain whilst I have breath in my body to support it.
I left him gabbling to himself, sometimes grinning as if greatlydiverted, sometimes lifting a trembling hand to help his ghostly recitalby an equally ghostly dumb-show, and went on deck, satisfied that he wastoo weak to get to the fire and meddle with it, but sufficientlyinvigorated by his long night's rest to sit up without tumbling off thebench.
This time I carried with me an old perspective glass I had noticed inthe chest in my cabin--the chest in which were the nautical instruments,charts, and papers--and levelled it along the coast of the island, butit was a poor glass, and I found I could manage nearly as well with thenaked eye. There was no change of any kind, only that there was asensible diminution in the blowing of the wind and a correspondingdecrease in the height of the seas. The ice stretched in a considerablebed on either hand the ship and ahead of her; the water frothed freelyover it, and there was a great jangling and flashing of broken pieces,but the hull was no longer heavily hit by them.
I got into the main chains to view the body of the vessel, and noticedwith satisfaction that the constant pouring of the sea had thinned downthe frozen snow to the depth of at least a foot. This encouraged me tohope that the restless tides would sap to her keel at least, and put herinto a posture to be easily launched by the blow of a surge upon herbows--that is if fortune continued to keep her head on. But by thistime, my transports having moderated, I was grown fully sensible of theextreme peril of our position. Should the sea rise and the ice bring herbroadside to it, it was inevitable, it seemed to me, that she must go topieces. Or if the ice on which she floated, fouled some other berg itmight cost us all our spars. Then again occurred the dismal question,Suppose she should launch herself, would she float? For eight-and-fortyyears she had been high and dry; never a caulker's hammer had rung uponher in all that time. Tassard had spoken of her as a stout ship, and soshe was, I did not doubt; but the old rogue talked as if she had beenstranded six months only! I had no other hope than that the intensecold had treated her timbers as it had treated the bodies of her people,an expectation not unreasonable when I considered the state of herstores and the manifest substantiality of her inward fabric.
I regained the deck and stepped over to the pumps. There were two ofthem, but built up in snow. My business was to save my life if I could,and the schooner too, for the sake of the great treasure in her. Nothingmust disconcert me I said to myself--I must spare no labour, but act ahearty sailor's part and ask for God's countenance. So I trotted below,and selecting some weapons from the arms-room, such as a tomahawk, aspade-headed spear, a pike and a chopper, I returned to the pumps andfell upon them with a will. The ice flew about me, but I continued tosmite, the exercise making me hot and renewing my spirits, and in anhour--but it took me an hour--I had chopped, hacked, and beaten one ofthe pumps pretty clear of its thick crystal coat. They were what iscalled brake-pumps--that is to say, pumps which are worked by handles.The ice, of course, held them immovable, but they looked to be perfectlysound, in good working order, though there would be neither chance norneed to test them until the schooner went afloat.
I cleared the other one and was well satisfied with my morning's work.But I did bitterly lament the lack of a little crew. Even the Frenchmanas he was yesterday would have served my turn, for between us we mighthave made shift to clamber aloft, and with hatchets break the sailsfree of their ice bonds, and so expose canvas enough to hold the wind,which could not have failed to impart a swifter motion to the berg. Butwith my single pair of hands I could only look up idly at the yards andgaffs standing hard as granite. Still, even such surface as the sparsand rigging offered to the breeze helped our progress. We were but avery little berg, nay, not a berg, but rather a sheet of ice lyingindifferently flat upon the sea, and, as I believe, without much depth.Our spars and gear were as if the ice itself were rigged as a ship, andthen there was the height of the hull besides to offer to the breeze atolerable resistance for its offices of propulsion. In this way Iexplain our progress; but whatever the cause, certain it was that ourbed of ice was fairly under weigh, and at noon the island of ice bore atleast half a league distant from us, and we had opened the sea broadlypast its northern cape.
I have often diverted myself with wondering what sort of impression theposture of our schooner would have made on the minds of sailors sightingus from their deck. We looked to be floating out of water, and marinerswho regard the devil as a conjuror must have accepted us as one of hispet inventions.
The many icebergs which encumbered the sea filled me with anxiety. Wewere travelling faster than they, and it seemed impossible that we couldmiss striking one or another of them. Yet perilous as they were, I couldnot but admire their beautiful appearance as they floated upon the darkblue of the running waters, flashing out very gloriously to the sun witha sparkling of tints upon their whiteness as if fires of twentydifferent colours had been kindled upon their craggy steeps, and thenfading into a sulky watchet to the dull violet shadowing of the passingclouds. I particularly marked a very brilliant scene on the opening offive or six of the
m to the sunshine. They lay in such wise that theshadow of the cloud covered them all as with a veil, the skirts ofwhich, trailing, left them to leap one after the other into the noontidedazzle; and as each one shot from the shadow the flash was like avolcanic spouting of white flame enriched with the prismatic dyes ofemeralds, rubies, sapphires, and gems of lovely hue.
To determine the hour and our position I fetched a quadrant from mycabin, and was happily just in time to catch the sun crossing themeridian. My watch was half an hour fast, so I had been out of myreckoning to the extent of thirty minutes ever since I had been castaway. I made our latitude to be sixty-four degrees twenty-eight minutessouth, and the computation was perhaps near enough.
This business ended, I went to the cook-house to prepare dinner, and thefirst object I saw was Tassard flat upon his face near the door thatopened into the cabin. He groaned when I picked him up, which I managedwithout much exertion of strength, for so much had he shrunk that I daresay more than half his weight lay in his clothes; and set him upon hisbench with his back to the dresser. I put my mouth to his ear androared, "Are you hurt?" His head nodded as if he understood me, but Iquestion if he did. He was the completest picture of old age that youcould imagine. I fetched a couple of spears from the arms-room, and,cutting them to his height, put one in each hand that he might keephimself propped; and whilst my own dinner was broiling I made him a messof broth with which I fed him, for now that he had the sticks he wouldnot let go of them. But in any case I doubt if his trembling hand couldhave lifted the spoon to his lips without capsizing the contents downhis beard.
With some small idea of rallying the old villain, I mixed him a verystiff bumper of brandy, which he supped down out of my hand with theutmost avidity. The draught soon worked in him, and he began to move hishead about, seeking me in his blind way, and then cried in his brokennotes, "I have lost the use of my legs and cannot walk. Mother of God,what shall I do! O holy St. Antonio, what is to become of me?"
I guessed from this that, impelled by habit or some small spur ofreason, he had risen to go on deck and fallen. He went on vapouringpitifully, gazing with sufficient steadfastness to let me understandthat his vision received something of my outline, though he would fixhis eyes either to left or right of me, as though he was not able to seeif he looked straight; and this and his mournful cackle and his noddinghead, bowed form, propped hands, and diminished face made him asdistressful and melancholy a picture of Time as ever mortal man viewed.He broke off in his rambling to ask for more brandy, taking it forgranted that I was still in the cook-room, for I never spoke, and Ifilled a can for him and as before held it to his mouth, which he openedwide, a piece of behaviour which went to show that some of his witsstill hung loose upon him. This was a strong dose, and co-operating withthe other, soon seized hold on his head, and presently he began to laughto himself and talk, and even broke into a stave or two--some Frenchsong which he delivered in a voice like the squeaking of a ratalternating with the growling of a terrier.
I guess his stumbling upon this old French catch (which I took it to befrom seeing him feebly flourish one of his sticks as if inviting achorus) put him upon speaking his own tongue altogether, for though hecontinued to chatter with all the volubility his breath would permitduring the whole time I sat eating, not one word of English did hespeak, and not one word therefore did I understand. Seeing how it mustbe with him presently, I brought his mattress and rugs from his cabin,and had scarce laid them down when he let fall one of his sticks anddrooped over. I grasped him, and partly lifting, partly hauling, got himon his back and covered him up. In a few minutes he was asleep.
I trust I shall not be deemed inhuman if I confess that I heartilywished his end would come. If he went on living he promised to be anintolerable burden to me, being quite helpless. Besides, he was much tooold for this world, in which a man who reaches the age of ninety ispointed to as a sort of wonder.
As there was nothing to be done on deck, I filled my pipe and mademyself comfortable before the furnace, and was speedily sunk inmeditation. I reviewed all the circumstances of my case and consideredmy chances, and the nimble heels of imagination carrying me home withthis schooner, I asked myself, suppose I should have the good fortune toconvey the treasure in safety to England, how was I to secure it? Let meimagine myself arrived in the Thames. The whole world stares at thestrange antique craft sailing up the river; she would be boarded andrummaged by the customs people, who of course would light upon thetreasure. What then? I knew nothing of the law; but I reckoned, since Ishould have to tell the truth, that the money, ore, and jewellery wouldbe claimed as stolen property, and I dismissed with a small reward forbringing it home. There was folly in such contemplation at such a time,when perhaps at this hour to-morrow the chests might be at the bottom ofthe sea, and myself a drowned sailor floating three hundred fathomsdeep. But man is a froward child, who builds mansions out of dreams,and, jockeyed by hope, sets out at a gallop along the visionary road tohis desires; and my mind was so much taken up with considering how Ishould manage when I brought the treasure home, that I spent a couple ofhours in a conflict of schemes, during which time it never onceoccurred to me to reflect that I was a good way from home still, andthat much must happen before I need give myself the least concern as tothe securing of the treasure.
Nothing worth recording happened that day. The wind slackened, and theice travelled so slow that at sundown I could not discover that we hadmade more than a quarter of a mile of progress to the north since noon,though we had settled by half as much again that distance westwards.Whilst I was below I could hear the ice crackling pretty briskly roundabout the ship, which gave me some comfort; but I could never see anychange of consequence when I looked over the side or bows, only that atabout four o'clock, whilst I was taking a view from the forecastle, alarge block broke away from beyond the starboard bow with the report ofa swivel gun.
I had not closed my eyes on the previous night, and was tired out whenthe evening arrived, and, as no good could come of my keeping a watch,for the simple reason that it was not in my power to avert anything thatmight happen, I tumbled some further covering over the Frenchman, whohad lain on the deck all the afternoon, sometimes dozing, sometimeswaking and talking to himself, and appearing on the whole very easy andcomfortable, and went to my cabin.
I slept sound the whole night through, and on waking went on deck beforegoing to the cook-house and lighting the furnace (as was my custom), soimpatient was I to observe our state and to hear such news as the oceanhad for me. It was a very curious day, somewhat darksome, and a deadcalm, with a large long swell out of the south-east. The sky was full ofclouds, with a stooping appearance in the hang of them that reminded youof the belly of a hammock; they were of a sallow brown, very uncommon;some of them round about sipped the sea-line, and their shadows,obliterating those parts of the cincture which they overhung, broke thecontinuity of the horizon as though there were valleys in the oceanthere. A good part of our bed of ice was gone, at least a fourth of it;but the schooner still lay as strongly fixed as before. I had come tothe deck half expecting to find her afloat from the regular manner ofher heaving, and was bitterly disappointed to discover her rooted asstrongly as ever in the ice, though the irritation softened when Inoticed how the bed had diminished. The mass with the ship upon it roseand sank with the sluggish squatting motion of a water-logged vessel. Itwas an odd sensation to my legs after their long rest from suchexercise. The heaving satisfied me that the base of the bed did not godeep, but at the same time it was all too solid for me, I could notdoubt, for had the sheet been as thin as I had hoped it, it must havegiven under the weight of the schooner and released her.
The island lay a league distant on the larboard beam, and looked awondrous vast field of ice going into the south, and it stared veryghastly upon the dark green sea out of the clouds whose gloom sankbehind it. I could not observe that we had drifted anything to thenorth, whilst our set to the westwards had been steady thoughsnail-like. The sea in the nor
th and north-west swarmed with bergs, likegreat snowdrops on the green undulating fields of the deep. Now andagain the swell, in which fragments of ice floated with the gleam ofcrystal in liquid glass, would be too quick for our dull rise andoverflow the bed, brimming to the channels with much noise of foam andpouring waters, but the interposition of the ice took half its weightout of it, and it never did more than send a tremble through the vessel.
What to make of the weather I knew not. Certainly, of all the capricesof this huge cold sea, its calms are the shortest lived, but thisknowledge helped me to no other. The clouds did not stir. In thenorth-east a beam of sunshine stood like a golden waterspout, its footin a little flood of glory. It stayed all the while I was on deck,showing that the clouds had scarce any motion, and made the picture ofthe sea that way beyond nature to my sight, by the contrast of thedefined shaft of gold, burning purely, with the dusk of the clouds allabout, and of the pool of dazzle at its foot with the ugly green of thewater that melted into it.
I went below and got about lighting the fire. The Frenchman lay veryquiet, under as many clothes as would fill a half-dozen of sacks. It wasbitterly cold, sharper in the cook-house than I had ever remembered it,and I could not conceive why this should be, until I recollected that Ihad forgotten to close the companion-hatch before going to bed. Iprepared some broth for my companion, and dressed some ham for myself,and ate my breakfast, supposing he would meanwhile awake. But aftersitting some time and observing that he did not stir, a suspicionflashed into my mind; I kneeled down, and clearing his face, listened.He did not breathe. I brought the lanthorn to him, but his countenancehad been so changed by his unparalleled emergence from a state of middlelife into extreme old age, he was so puckered, hollowed, gaunt, hisfeatures so distorted by the great weight of his years that I was not toknow him dead by merely viewing him. I threw the clothes off him,listened at his mouth breathlessly, felt his hands, which were ice-cold.Dead indeed! thought I. Great Father, 'tis Thy will! And I rose veryslowly and stood surveying the silent figure with an emotion that owedits inspiration partly to the several miracles of vitality I had beheldin him during our association, and to a bitter feeling of lonelinessthat swelled up in me.
Yes! I had feared and detested this man, but his quick transformationand silent dark exit affected me, and I looked down upon him sadly. Yet,to be perfectly candid with you, I recollect that, though it occurred tome to test if life was out of him by bringing him close to the fire andchafing him and giving him brandy, I would not stir. No, I would nothave moved a finger to recover him, even though I should have been ableto do so by merely putting him to the furnace. He was dead, and therewas an end; and without further ado I carried him into the forecastleand threw a hammock over him, and left him to lie there till thereshould come clear water to the ship to serve him for a grave.