CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.
SAN FRANCISCO AGAIN--A TERRIBLE MISFORTUNE--AN OLD FRIEND INSURPRISINGLY NEW CIRCUMSTANCES--SEVERAL REMARKABLE DISCOVERIES AND NEWLIGHTS.
There is no time or place, perhaps, more suitable for indulging inruminations, cogitations, and reminiscences, than the quiet hours of acalm night out upon the sea, when the watchful stars look down upon thebosom of the deep, and twinkle at their reflections in placidbrilliancy.
Late at night, when all the noisy inmates of the steamer had ceased toeat, and drink, and laugh, and had sought repose in their berths, EdwardSinton walked the deck alone, meditating on the past, the present, andthe future. When he looked up at the serene heavens, and down at thetranquil sea, whose surface was unruffled, save by the long pure whitetrack of the vessel, he could scarcely bring himself to believe that thewhirl of incident and adventure in which he had been involved during thelast few and short months was real. It seemed like a brilliant dream.As long as he was on shore it all appeared real enough, and the constantpressure of _something to be done_, either immediately, or in an hour,or to-morrow, kept his mind perpetually chained down to theconsideration of visible, and tangible, and passing events; but now thecord of connexion with land had been suddenly and completely severed.The very land itself was out of sight. Nothing around him tended torecall recent events; and, as he had nothing in the world to do but waituntil the voyage should come to an end, his mind was left free to boundover the recent-past into the region of the long-past, and revel thereat pleasure.
But Ned Sinton was not altogether without anxieties. He felt a littleuneasy as to the high-handed manner, in which he had carried off NellyMorgan from her late guardian; and he was a good deal perplexed as towhat the important affairs could be, for which he had so hastilyoverturned all the gold-digging plans of his whole party. With thesethoughts mingled many philosophic inquiries as to the amount ofadvantage that lay--if, indeed, there was any advantage at all--inmaking one's fortune suddenly and at the imminent hazard of one's life.Overpowering sleep at last put an end to Ned's wandering thoughts, andhe too bade the stars good-night, and sought his pillow. In due coursethe vessel cast anchor off the town of San Francisco.
"There is many a slip 'tween the cup and the lip." It is an old proverbthat, but one which is proved, by frequent use, on the part of authorsin all ages, to be a salutary reminder to humanity. Its truth wasunpleasantly exemplified on the arrival of the steamer. As the tide wasout at the time, the captain ordered the boats to be lowered, in orderto land the passengers. The moment they touched the water they werefilled by impatient miners, who struggled to be first ashore. The boatinto which Ned and his friends got was soon overloaded with passengers,and the captain ordered her to be shoved off.
"Hold on!" shouted a big coarse-looking fellow, in a rough blue jacketand wide-awake, who was evidently drunk; "let me in first."
"There's no room!" cried several voices. "Shove off."
"There's room enough!" cried the man, with an oath; at the same timeseizing the rope.
"If ye do come down," said a sailor, sternly, "I'll pitch ye overboard."
"Will ye!" growled the man; and the next instant he sprang upon the edgeof the boat, which upset, and left its freight struggling in the water.The other boats immediately picked them all up; and, beyond a wetting,they were physically none the worse. But, alas! the bags of gold whichour adventurers were carrying ashore with them, sank to the bottom ofthe sea! They were landed on the wharf at San Francisco as penniless asthey were on the day of their arrival in California.
This reverse of fortune was too tremendous to be realised in a moment.As they stood on the wharf; dripping wet, and gazing at each other indismay, they suddenly, as if by one consent, burst into a loud laugh.But the laugh had a strong dash of bitterness in its tone; and when itpassed, the expression of their countenances was not cheerful.
Bill Jones was the first to speak, as they wandered, almost helplessly,through the crowded streets, while little Nelly ever and anon lookedwistfully up into Larry's face, as he led her by the hand.
"It's a stunnin' smash," said Bill, fetching a deep sigh. "But w'en athing's done, an' can't be undone, then it's unpossible, that's wot itis; and wot's unpossible there's no use o' tryin' for to do. 'Causewhy? it only wastes yer time an' frets yer sperrit--that's _my_opinion."
Not one of the party ventured to smile--as was their wont in happiercircumstances--at the philosophy of their comrade's remark. Theywandered on in silence till they reached--they scarce knew how or why--the centre plaza of the town.
"It's of no use giving way to it," said Ned Sinton, at last, making amighty effort to recover: "we must face our reverses like men; and,after all, it might have been worse. We might have lost our lives aswell as our gold, so we ought to be thankful instead of depressed."
"What shall we do now?" inquired Captain Bunting, in a tone that provedsufficiently that he at least could not benefit by Ned's advice.
"Sure we'll have to go an' work, capting," replied Larry, in a tone offacetious desperation; "but first of all we'll have to go an' see MrThompson, and git dry clo'se for Nelly, poor thing--are ye cowld,darlin'?"
"No, not in the least," answered the child, sadly. "I think my thingswill dry soon, if we walk in the sun."
Nelly's voice seemed to rouse the energies of the party more effectuallythan Ned's moralising.
"Yes," cried the latter, "let us away to old Thompson's. His daughter,Lizette, will put you all to rights, dear, in a short time. Comealong."
So saying, Ned led the way, and the whole party speedily stood at thedoor of Mr Thompson's cottage.
The door was merely fastened by a latch, and as no notice was taken oftheir first knock, Ned lifted it and entered the hall, then advancing tothe parlour door, he opened it and looked in.
The sight that met his gaze was well calculated to make him open hiseyes, and his mouth too, if that would in any way have relieved hisfeelings.
Seated in old Mr Thompson's easy-chair, with one leg stretched upon anottoman, and the other reposing on a stool, reclined Tom Collins,looking, perhaps, a little paler than was his wont, as if stillsuffering from the effects of recent illness, but evidently quite happyand comfortable.
Beside Tom, on another stool, with her arm resting on Tom's knee, andlooking up in his face with a quiet smile, sat Elizabeth Thompson.
"Tom! Miss Thompson!" cried Ned Sinton, standing absolutely aghast.
Miss Thompson sprang up with a face of crimson, but Tom sat coollystill, and said, while a broad grin overspread his handsome countenance,"No, Ned, not Miss Thompson--Mrs _Collins_, who, I know, is rejoiced tosee you."
"You are jesting, Tom," said Ned, as he advanced quickly, and took thelady's hand, while Tom rose and heartily welcomed his old companions.
"Not a bit of it, my dear fellow," he repeated. "This, I assure you, ismy wife. Pray, dear Lizette, corroborate my statement, else our friendswon't believe me. But sit down, sit down, and let's hear all about you.Go, Lizette, get 'em something to eat. I knew you would make yourappearance ere long. Old Thompson's letter--halloo! why what's this?You're wet! and _who's_ this--a wet little girl?"
"Faix, ye may well be surprised, Mister Tom," said Larry, "for we're allwet _beggars_, ivery wan o' us--without a dollar to bless ourselveswith."
Tom Collins looked perplexed, as he turned from one to the other."Stay," he shouted; "wife, come here. There's a mystery going on. Takethis moist little one to your room; and there," he added, throwing opena door, "you fellows will all find dry apparel to put on--though I don'tsay to fit. Come along with me, Ned, and while you change, give anaccount of yourself."
Ned did as he was desired; and, in the course of a lengthenedconversation, detailed to Tom the present condition of himself and hisfriends.
"It's unfortunate," said Tom, after a pause; "ill-luck seems to followus wherever we go."
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself;" cried Ned, "for saying so,considering
the wife you have got."
"True, my boy," replied the other, "I ought indeed to be ashamed, but Ispoke in reference to money matters. What say you to the fact, that Iam as much a beggar as yourself?"
"Outward appearances would seem to contradict you."
"Nevertheless, it is true, I assure you. When you left me, Ned, in thehotel at Sacramento, I became so lonely that I grew desperate; and,feeling much stronger in body, I set off for this town in the newsteamer--that in which you arrived. I came straight up here,re-introduced myself to Mr Thompson; and, two days after--for I countit folly to waste time in such matters when one's mind is made up--Iproposed to Lizette, and was accepted conditionally. Of course, thecondition was that papa should be willing. But papa was _not_ willing.He said that three thousand dollars, all I possessed, was a capital sum,but not sufficient to marry on, and that he could not risk hisdaughter's happiness, etcetera, etcetera--you know the rest. Well, thevery next day news came that one of Thompson's best ships had beenwrecked off Cape Horn. This was a terrible blow, for the old man'saffairs were in a rickety condition at any rate, and this sank himaltogether. His creditors were willing enough to wait, but one rascalrefused to do so, and swore he would sequestrate him. I found that thesum due him was exactly three thousand dollars, so I paid him the amountin full, and handed Thompson the discharged account. `Now,' said I,`I'm off to the diggings, so good-bye!' for, you see, Ned, I felt that Icould not urge my suit at that time, as it would be like putting on thescrew--taking an unfair advantage of him.
"`Why, what do you mean, my lad?' said he.
"`That I'm off to-morrow,' replied I.
"`That you must not do,' said he.
"`Why not?' said I.
"`Because,' said he, `now that things are going smooth, I must go toEngland by the first ship that sails, and get my affairs there put on abetter footing, so you must stay here to look after my business, andto--to--take care of Lizette.'
"`Eh! what!' said I, `what do you mean? You know _that_ is impossible.'
"`Not at all, boy, if you marry her!'
"Of course I could not refuse, and so, to cut it short, we were marriedright off and here we are, the representatives of the great firm ofThompson and Company, of California."
"Then, do you mean to say that Thompson is gone?" Inquired Ned, with alook of horror.
"Near the Horn, I should think, by this time; but why so anxious?"
"Because," sighed Ned, sitting down on the edge of the bed, with a lookof despair, "I came here by his invitation; and--"
"Oh! it's all right," interrupted Tom; "I know all about it, and amcommissioned by him to settle the affair for you."
"But what _is_ the affair?" inquired Ned, eagerly.
"Ah! my dear boy, do try to exercise patience. If I tell you everythingbefore we go down to our comrades, I fear we shall have to send amessage to say that we are not coming till to-morrow morning."
Tom rose as he spoke, and led the way to the parlour, where bread andcheese were spread out for them.
"The only drawback to my felicity," whispered Tom to Sinton, as theyentered, "is that I find Thompson's affairs far worse than he himselfwas aware of; and it's a fact, that at this moment I can scarcely drawenough out of the business to supply the necessaries of life."
There was a slight bitterness in Tom's tone as he said this, but thenext moment he was jesting with his old companions as lightheartedly asever. During the meal he refused, however, to talk business, and, whenit was concluded, he proposed that they should go out for a strollthrough the town.
"By the way," remarked Ned, as they walked along, "what of CaptainBunting's old ship?"
"Ay!" echoed the captain, "that's the uppermost thing in _my_ mind; butmaster Tom seems determined to keep us in the dark. I do believe the_Roving Bess_ has been burned, an' he's afraid to tell us."
"You're a desperately inquisitive set," cried Tom Collins, laughing."Could you not suppose that I wanted to give you a surprise, by shewingyou how curiously she has been surrounded by houses since you last sawher. You'll think nothing of it, now that I have told you."
"Why, where are ye goin'?" cried Larry, as Tom turned up a street thatled a little away from the shore, towards which they had been walking!
Tom made no reply, but led on. They were now in that densely-crowdedpart of the town where shops were less numerous, warehouses moreplentiful, and disagreeable odours more abundant, than elsewhere. Adense mass of buildings lay between them and the sea, and in the centreof these was a square or plaza, on one side of which stood a largehotel, out of the roof of which rose a gigantic flag-staff. A broad andmagnificent flight of wooden steps led up to the door of this house ofentertainment, over which, on a large board, was written its name--"TheRoving Bess Tavern."
"Dear me! that's a strange coincidence," exclaimed the captain, as hiseye caught the name.
"Tare an' ages!" yelled Larry, "av it isn't the owld ship! Don't I knowthe mizzen-mast as well as I know me right leg?"
"The _Roving Bess_ Tavern!" muttered Captain Bunting, while his eyesstared incredulously at the remarkable edifice before him.
Bill Jones, who, up to this point, had walked beside his comrades insilent meditation, here lost presence of mind and, putting both hands tohis mouth, sang out, in true stentorian boatswain tones, "All handsahoy! tumble up there--tumble up!"
"Ay, ay, sir!" roared half-a-dozen jack tars, who chanced to be regalingthemselves within, and who rushed out, hat in hand, ready for a spree,at the unexpected but well-known summons.
"Major Whitlaw," said Tom Collins, springing up the steps, andaddressing a tall, cadaverous-looking Yankee, "allow me to introduce toyou your landlord, Captain Bunting--your tenant, captain. I dare sayyou have almost forgotten each other."
The captain held out his hand mechanically and gazed at his tenantunbelievingly, while the major said--
"Glad to see ye, cap'n, I guess. Wanted to for a long time. Couldn'tcome to terms with old Thompson. Won't you step in and take a cocktailor a gin-sling? I'd like to have a private talk--this way."
The landlord of the _Roving Bess_ Tavern led the captain to what wasonce his own cabin, and begged him to be seated on his own locker at thehead of his own table. He accepted these civilities, staring round himin mute wonder all the time, as if he thought it was a dream, out ofwhich he should wake in due course, while, from all parts of the tavern,came sounds of mirth, and clatter of knives and forks and dishes, andodours of gin-slings and bear-steaks and pork-pies.
"Jist sit there a minute," said the Yankee, "till I see to your friendsbein' fixed off comfortable; of course, Mr Collins may stay, for heknows all about it."
When he was gone, the captain rose and looked into his old berth. Ithad been converted into a pantry, so he shut the door quickly andreturned to his seat.
"Tom," said he, in a low whisper, as if he feared to break the spell,"how _did_ they get her up here!"
"She's never been moved since you left her," answered Tom, laughing;"the town has gradually surrounded her, as you see, and crept out uponthe shore, filling up the sea with rubbish, till it has left her nearlya quarter of a mile inland."
The captain's eyes opened wider than ever, but before he could findwords again to speak, Major Whitlaw returned.
"They're all square now, gentlemen, so, if you please, we'll proceed tobusiness. I suppose your friend has told you how the land lies?"
"He certainly has," replied the captain, who accepted the phraseliterally.
"Wall, I reckon your property's riz since ye wor here; now, if you giveme leave to make the alterations I want to, I'll give you 1000 dollars amonth, payable in advance."
"You'd better tell Captain Bunting what the alterations you refer toare," suggested Tom Collins, who saw that the captain's state of mindrendered him totally incapable of transacting business.
"That's soon done. I'll give it ye slick off. I want to cut away thecompanion-hatch and run up a regular stair to the deck; then i
t'sadvisable to cut away at least half o' the main deck to heighten thegamin' saloon. But I guess the main point is to knock out half-a-dozenwindows in the hold, for gas-light is plaguey dear, when it's goin' fullblast day and night. Besides, I must cut the entrance-door down to theground, for this tree-mendous flight o' stairs'll be the ruin o' thebusiness. It's only a week since a man was shot by a comrade here inthe cabin, an' as they rushed out after him, two customers fell down thestair and broke their arms. And I calc'late the gentlemen that'sovertaken by liquor every night won't stand it much longer. There isn'ta single man that quits this house after 12 p.m. but goes down thatflight head-foremost. If you don't sanction that change, I guess I'llhave to get 'em padded, and spread feather-beds at the foot. Now,cap'n, if you agrees to this right off, I'll give the sum named."
Captain Bunting's astonishment had now reached that point at whichextremes are supposed to meet, and a reaction began to take place.
"How much did you propose?" he inquired, taking out a pencil and an oldletter, as if he were about to make notes, at the same time knitting hisbrows, and endeavouring to look intensely sagacious.
"One thousand dollars a month," answered the Yankee; "I railly can'tstand more."
"Let me see," muttered the captain slowly, in an under tone, while hepressed his forehead with his fore-finger; "one thousand dollars--200pounds sterling--hum, equal to about 2400 pounds a year. Well," headded, raising his voice, "I don't mind if I do. I suppose, Tom, it'snot _much_ below the thing, as rents go!"
"It's a fair offer," said Tom, carelessly; "we might, perhaps, get ahigher, but Major Whitlaw is in possession, and is, besides, a goodtenant."
"Then I'll conclude the bargain--pray get pen, ink, and paper."
While the major turned for a moment to procure writing materials, thecaptain looked at Tom and winked expressively. Then, a document wasdrawn up, signed, and witnessed, and then the captain, politelydeclining a brandy-smash, or any other smash whatever, left the _RovingBess_ Tavern with his friends, and with 200 pounds--the first month'srent--in his pocket.
It is needless to remark, that his comrades congratulated him heartily,and that the worthy captain walked along the streets of San Franciscochuckling.
In a few minutes, Tom Collins stopped before a row of immensewarehouses. There was one gap in the row, a space of several yardssquare, that might have held two good-sized houses. Four wooden postsstood at the corners of the plot, and an old boat, turned keel up, layin the middle of it.
"I know it!" cried Ned Sinton, laughing in gleeful surprise; "it's myold boat, isn't it? Well, I can scarcely credit my eyes! I saw it laston the sea-shore, and now it's a quarter of a mile into the town!"
"More than that, Ned," said Tom Collins, "the plot of ground is worthten thousand dollars at this moment. Had it been a little furthersouth, it would have been worth ten times that sum. And more than thatstill, the Irish family you lent the boat to--you remember them--well,they dug up a bag from under the boat which contained five thousanddollars; the honest people at once gave it up, and Mr Thompson rewardedthem well; but they did not live to enjoy it long, they're all dead now.So you see, Ned, you're just 3000 pounds richer than you thought youwere this morning."
"It's a great day!" remarked Larry O'Neil, looking round upon hiscomrades, who received all this information with an expression ofdoubting surprise; "a great day intirely! Faix, I'm only hopin' wewon't waken up an' find it's all a dhrame!"
Larry's companions quite agreed with him. They did not indeed say so,but, as they returned home after that stroll, talking eagerly of futureplans and prospects, the ever-recurring sentiment broke from their lips,in every style of phrase, "It's a great day, intirely!"