ofthat sort came in such a place as this. And well born too, well born,or I don't know the meaning of the term!"
They were pretty creatures and their dress was like the rest of them.Short skirts all looped and filled with flowers, toggery above cut outof some white skin, with caps to match and their hair falling in bigramping curls about it--they were for all the world like the dancersyou see at a stage play and just as active. And to hear their voices,sweet and musical, floating from ravine to ravine like a choir singingin a place of echoes, aye that was something you might not soon forget.But what they were doing in such a place, or how they came there, theLord above alone knew, and not a plain seaman like Jasper Begg.
Like dancers at a stage play.]
"What are they saying, Peter--what do you make of it?" I asked him,under my breath.
"'Tis the French lingo," says he, foolish-like, "and if it's not that,'tis the German--leastwise no Christian man that I know of coulddistinguish between 'em."
"Peter," says I, "that's what you learn in the asylum. 'Tis no more theFrench lingo than your own. Why, hearken to it."
Well, he listened, and soon we heard a pretty echo from the valley, forthey'd gone down towards the gardens now; and one word repeated oftenhad as nice a touch of music as I remember hearing. It was just this:"Rosamunda--munda--munda," and you can't think how fresh the youngvoice sounded in that lonely place, or what a chill it gave a man whenhe remembered the devils over at the reef and what they'd done to thecrew of the Santa Cruz. I do believe to this day that our fellowsimagined they'd seen nothing more nor less than an apparition out ofthe black rocks above them; and it wasn't until I'd spoken to them ingood honest English that I got them to go on again.
"Flesh or spirit, that's not a lot to whiten a man's gills," cried I;"why, thunder, Peter Bligh, you're big enough to put 'em all in yourpocket, and soft enough they'd lie when they got there. Do you mean totell me," I asked him, "that four hale and strong men are to befrightened out of their wits by three pretty girls?--and you areligious man, too, Peter! Why, I'm ashamed of you, that I am, lads,right down ashamed of you!"
They plucked up at this, and Peter he made haste to excuse himself.
"If they was Christian men with knives in their hands," says he, "I'dput up a bit of a prayer, and trust to the Lord to shoot 'em; but themthree's agen all reason, at this time of night in such a lone place."
"Go on with you, Peter," chimes in Dolly Venn; "three ripping littlegirls, and don't I wish they'd ask me in to tea! Why, look, they'redown by the house now, and somebody with them, though whether it's aman or a woman I really don't pretend to say."
"I'm derned if I don't think it's a lion," says Seth Barker, asking mypardon for the liberty.
We all stood still at this, for we were on the hillside just above thehouse now; and down on the fair grass-way below us we espied the threelittle girls with their torches still burning, and they as deep in talkwith a stranger as a man might have been with his own mother. A moreremarkable human being than the one these little ladies had happenedupon I don't look to see again the world around. Man or lion--Godforgive me if I know what to call him. He'd hair enough, shaggy haircurling about his shoulders, to have stuffed a feather bed. His dresswas half man's, half woman's. He'd a tattered petticoat about his legs,a seaman's blouse for his body, and a lady's shawl above that upon hisshoulders--his legs were bare as a barked tree, and what boots he hadshould have been in the rag-shop. More wonderful still was it tosee the manner of the young ladies towards him--for I shall alwayscall them that--they petted him and fondled him, and one put a mockcrown of roses on his head. Then, with that pretty song of theirs,"Rosamunda--munda--munda," they all ran off together towards thenorthern shore and left us in the darkness, as surprised a party ofmen as you'll readily meet with.
"Well," says Peter Bligh, and he was the first among us to speak,"yon's a nice shipmate to speak on a quiet road. So help me thunder,but I wouldn't pass round the tin for him in a beauty show, no, notmuch! Did ye see the hair of him, captain--did ye see the hair?"
"And the girls kissing him as though he were Apollo," cries Dolly Venn,who, I don't doubt, would have done the kissing willingly himself. ButI hushed their talk, and without more ado I went straight down to RuthBellenden's house. All the strange things we'd seen and heard, theuncanny sights, the firing on the reef, the wild man ashore, the littlegirls from the hills--all these, I say, began to tell me my mistress'sstory as a written book might never have done. "She's need of me," Isaid, "sore need; and by God's help I'll bring her out of this placebefore to-morrow's sun."
For how should I know what long days must pass before I was to leaveKen's Island again?
CHAPTER VI
JASPER BEGG MEETS HIS OLD MISTRESS, AND IS WATCHED
I had made up my mind to take every proper precaution before going upto the house where my mistress lived; and with caution in my head Ileft Seth Barker, the carpenter, up on the hill path, while I set PeterBligh at the gate of the garden, and posted Dolly Venn round at thenorthern side, where the men who had looted the Santa Cruz might belooked for with any others that I had no knowledge of. When this wasdone, and they understood that they were to fire a gun if the needarose, I opened the wicket-gate and crept up the grass path for all theworld like an ill-visaged fellow who had no true business there. Not asound could I hear in all that place; not a dog barked, nor a humanvoice spoke. Even the wind came fitful and gusty about the shelteredhouse; and so quiet was it between the squalls that my own footfallalmost could scare me. For, you see, a whisper spoken at the wrong timemight have undone all--a clumsy step have cost us more than a man caredto count. We were but four, and, for all I know, there might have beenfour hundred on Ken's Island. You don't wonder therefore, if I askedmyself at times whether to-morrow's sun would find us living or whatour misfortune might spell for one I had come so far to serve.
It was very dark in the garden, as I have told you, but two of thewindows in the house were lighted up and two golden rings of lightthrown out upon the soft grass I trod. I stood a long time debatingwhich window to knock open--for it was a fearful lottery, I mustsay--and when I'd turned it over and over in my head, and now made outthat it was this window and now plumped for the other, I took up apebble at last and cast it upon the pane nearest to the door--for thatseemed to me the more likely room, and I'd nothing else but commonsense to guide me. You may judge of my feelings when no notice wastaken of my signal except by a dog, which began to yap like a pup andto make such a scare that I thought every window and every door mustbe opened that very instant and as many men out on top of me. I said,surely, that it was all up with Jasper Begg that journey; but odd totell it, the dog gave over at last, and no one showed himself, neitherwas there any whistle from my company; and I was just making ready tothrow another stone when the second light was turned out all of asudden and, the long window being opened, Ruth Bellenden--or, to bemore correct, Mme. Czerny--herself came out into the garden, and stoodlooking round about as though she knew that I was there and had beenwaiting for me. When at last she saw me she didn't speak or make anysign, but going about to the house again she held the window open forme, and I passed into the dark room with her, and there held her handin mine, I do believe as though I would never let it go again.
"Jasper," says she, in a whisper that was pretty as the south wind inspringtime; "Jasper Begg, how could it be any one else! Oh, we mustlight a candle, Jasper Begg," says she, "or we shall lose ourselves inthe dark."
"Miss Ruth," said I, "light or dark, I'm here according to my orders,and the ship's here, and as I said to you before the yellow boy to-day,we're waiting for our mistress to go aboard."
She had her back to me when I said this, and was busy enough drawingthe curtains and lighting the lamp again. The light showed me that shewore a rich black gown with fluffy stuff over it, and a bit of asparkle in the way of diamonds like a band across her parted hair. Theface was deceiving, now lighted up by one of the old smiles, now hardset as one who had suffered much
for her years. But there was nothingover-womanish in her talk, and we two thrashed it out there, just thesame as if Ken's Island wasn't full of devils, and the lives of me andmy men worth what a spin of the coin might buy them at.
"You mustn't call me Miss Ruth," says she, when she turned from thelamp and tidied up her writing on the table; "of course you know that,Jasper Begg. And you at my wedding, too--is it really not more thantwelve long months ago?"
A sigh passed her lips, such a sigh as tells a woman's story