Elster's Folly, Mrs. Henry Wood [ebook reader with built in dictionary .txt] 📗

In

Tears,  And Audibly Wished Herself Dead. She Had Not Seen Her Boy Since He

Quitted Calne,  Considerably More Than Two Years Before,  And He Was Now

Nearly Nineteen. A Few Days' Holiday Had Been Accorded Him By The

Banking-House Each Christmas; But The First Christmas Willy Wrote Word

That He Had Accepted An Invitation To Go Home With A Brother-Clerk; The

Second Christmas He Said He Could Not Obtain Leave Of Absence--Which Mrs.

Gum Afterwards Found Was Untrue; So That Willy Gum Had Not Been At Calne

Since He Left It. And Whenever His Mother Thought Of Him--And That Was

Every Hour Of The Day And Night--It Was Always As The Fair,  Young,

Light-Haired Boy,  Who Seemed To Her Little More Than A Child.

 

A Year Or So Of Uncertainty,  Of Suspense,  Of Wailing,  And Then Came A

Letter From Willy,  Cautiously Sent. It Was Not Addressed Directly To Mrs.

Gum,  To Whom It Was Written,  But To One Of Willy's Acquaintances In

London,  Who Enclosed It In An Envelope And Forwarded It On.

 

Such A Letter! To Read It One Might Have Thought Mr. William Gum Had Gone

Out Under The Most Favourable Auspices. He Was In Australia; Had Gone Up

To Seek His Fortune At The Gold-Diggings,  And Was Making Money Rapidly.

In A Short Time He Should Refund With Interest The Little Sum He Had

Borrowed From Goldsworthy And Co.,  And Which Was Really Not Taken With

Any Ill Intention,  But Was More An Accident Than Anything Else. After

That,  He Should Accumulate Money On His Own Score,  And--All Things Being

Made Straight At Home--Return And Settle Down,  A Rich Man For Life. And

She--His Mother--Might Rely On His Keeping His Word. At Present He Was At

Melbourne; To Which Place He And His Mates Had Come To Bring Their

Acquired Gold,  And To Take A Bit Of A Spree After Their Recent Hard Work.

He Was Very Jolly,  And After A Week's Holiday They Should Go Back Again.

And He Hoped His Father Had Overlooked The Past; And He Remained Ever Her

Affectionate Son,  William Gum.

 

The Effect Of This Letter Upon Mrs. Gum Was As Though A Dense Cloud Had

Suddenly Lifted From The World,  And Given Place To A Flood Of Sunshine.

We Estimate Things By Comparison. Mrs. Gum Was By Nature Disposed To Look

On The Dark Side Of Things,  And She Had For The Whole Year Past Been

Indulging The Most Dread Pictures Of Willy And His Fate That Any Woman's

Mind Ever Conceived. To Hear That He Was In Life,  And Well,  And Making

Money Rapidly,  Was The Sweetest News,  The Greatest Relief She Could Ever

Experience In This World.

 

Clerk Gum--Relieved Also,  No Doubt--Receiv

Xii.,  And She Owed To The Same Kind Helpers Also The Accuracy Of Her

Nautical Phrases And Her Irish Dialect. Certainly This Second Part Of

The Tale Is Full Of Interest,  But I Cannot Help Wishing That The

Materials Had Been Made Into Two Books Instead Of One. There Are More

Than Enough Characters And Incidents To Have Developed Into A Couple

Of Tales.

 

Julie Had Often Said How Strange It Seemed To Her,  When People Who Had

A Ready Pen For _Writing_ Consulted Her As To What They Should _Write

About_! She Suffered So Much From Over-Abundance Of Ideas Which She

Had Not The Physical Strength To Put On Paper.

 

Even When She Was Very Ill,  And Unable To Use Her Hands At All,  The

Sight Of A Lot Of Good German Wood-Cuts,  Which Were Sent To Me At

Bath,  Suggested So Many Fresh Ideas To Her Brain,  That She Only Longed

To Be Able To Seize Her Pen And Write Tales To The Pictures.

 

Before We Turn Finally Away From The Subject Of Her Liking For Irish

People,  I Must Mention A Little Adventure Which Happened To Her At

Fulford.

 

There Is One Parish In York Where A Great Number Of Irish Peasants

Live,  And Many Of The Women Used To Pass Julie's Windows Daily,  Going

Out To Work In The Fields At Fulford. She Liked To Watch Them Trudging

By,  With Large Baskets Perched Picturesquely On The Tops Of Their

Heads,  But In The Town The "Irishers" Are Not Viewed With Equal Favour

By The Inhabitants. One Afternoon Julie Was Out Sketching In A Field,

And Came Across One Of These Poor Irish Women. My Sister's Mind At The

Time Was Full Of Biddy Macartney,  And She Could Not Resist The

Opportunity Of Having A Chat With This Suggestive "Study" For The

Character. She Found An Excuse For Addressing The Old Woman About Some

Cattle Which Seemed Restless In The Field,  But Quickly Discovered,  To

Her Amusement,  That When She Alluded To Ireland,  Her Companion,  In The

Broadest Brogue,  Stoutly Denied Having Any Connection With The

Country. No Doubt She Thought Julie's Prejudices Would Be Similar To

Those Of Her Town Neighbours,  But In A Short Time Some Allusion Was

Inadvertently Made To "Me Father's Farm In Kerry," And The Truth

Leaked Out. After This They Became More Confidential; And When Julie

Admired Some Quaint Silver Rings On Her Companion's Finger,  The Old

Woman Was Most Anxious To Give Her One,  And Was Only Restrained By

Coming To The Decision That She Would Give Her A Recipe For "Real

Irish Whisky" Instead. She Began With "You Must Take Some Barley And

Put It In A Poke--" But After This Julie Heard No More,  For She Was

Distracted By The Cattle,  Who Had Advanced Unpleasantly Near; The

Irish Woman,  However,  Continued Her Instructions To The End,  Waving

Her Arms To Keep The Beasts Off,  Which She So Far Succeeded In Doing,

That Julie Caught The Last Sentence--

 

"And Then Ye Must Bury It In A Bog."

 

"Is That To Give It A Peaty Flavour?" Asked My Sister,  Innocently.

 

"Oh,  No,  Me Dear!--_It's Because Of The Excise-Man_."

 

When They Parted,  The Old Woman's Original Reserve Entirely Gave Way,

And She Cried: "Good Luck To Ye! _And Go To Ireland!_"

 

Julie Remained In England For Some Months After Major Ewing Started

For Malta,  And As He Was Despatched On Very Short Notice,  And She Had

To Pack Up Their Goods; Also--As She Was Not Strong--It Was Decided

That She Should Avoid Going Out For The Hot Summer Weather,  And Wait

For The Healthier Autumn Season. Her Time,  Therefore,  Was Now Chiefly

Spent Amongst Civilian Friends And Relations,  And I Want This Fact To

Be Specially Noticed,  In Connection With The Next Contributions That

She Wrote For The Magazine.

 

In February 1879,  The Terrible News Had Come Of The Isandlwana

Massacre,  And This Was Followed In June By That Of The Prince

Imperial's Death. My Sister Was,  Of Course,  Deeply Engrossed In The

War Tidings,  As Many Of Her Friends Went Out To South Africa--Some To

Return No More. In July She Contributed "A Soldier's Children" To

_Aunt Judy_,  And Of All Her Child Verses This Must Be Reckoned The

Best,  Every Line From First To Last Breathing How Strong Herrected The Rest To The

Crime,  And Killed The Captain With His Own Hand. Obtaining Command Of The

Ship,  They Put Her About,  And Commenced A Piratical Raid. One Vessel They

Succeeded In Disarming,  Despoiling,  And Then Leaving Her To Her Fate. But

The Next Vessel They Attacked Proved A More Formidable Enemy,  And There

Was A Hand-To-Hand Struggle For The Mastery,  And For Life Or Death. The

_Morning Star_ Was Sunk,  With The Greater Portion Of Her Living Freight.

A Few,  Only Some Four Or Five,  Were Saved By The Other Ship,  And Conveyed

To England.

 

It Was By Them The Dark Tale Was Brought. The Second Officer Of The

_Morning Star_ Was One Of Them; He Had Been Compelled To Dissemble And To

Appear To Serve The Mutinous Band; The Others Were Innocent Passengers,

Whose Lives Had Not Been Taken. All Agreed In One Thing: That Gordon,  The

Ringleader,  Had In All Probability Escaped. He Had Put Off From The

_Morning Star_,  When She Was Sinking,  In One Of Her Best Boats; He And

Some Of His Lawless Helpmates,  With A Bag Of Biscuit,  A Cask Of Water,

And A Few Bottles That Probably Contained Rum. Whether They Succeeded In

Reaching A Port Or In Getting Picked Up,  Was A Question; But It Was

Assumed They Had Done So.

 

The Owners Of The _Morning Star_,  Half Paralyzed At The News Of So Daring

And Unusual An Outrage,  Offered The Large Reward Of Five Hundred Pounds

For The Capture Of George Gordon; And Government Increased The Offer By

Two Hundred,  Making It Seven In All.

 

Overwhelming Tidings For Clerk Gum And His Wife! A Brief Season Of

Agonized Suspense Ensued For The Poor Mother; Of Hopes And Fears As To

Whether Willy Was Amongst The Remnant Saved; And Then Hope Died Away,  For

He Did Not Come.

 

Once More,  For The Last Time,  Clerk Gum Took A Journey,  Not To London,

But To Liverpool. He Succeeded In Seeing The Officer Who Had Been

Saved; But He Could Give Him No Information. He Knew The Names Of The

First-Class Passengers,  But Only A Few Of The Second-Class; And In That

Class Willy Had Most Likely Sailed.

 

The Clerk Described His Son; And The Officer Thought He Remembered Him:

He Had A Good Deal Of Gold On Board,  He Said. One Of The Passengers Spoke

More Positively. Yes,  By Clerk Gum's Description,  He Was Sure Willy Gum

Had Been His Fellow-Passenger In The Second Cabin,  Though He Did Not

Recollect Whether He Had Heard His Name. It Seemed,  Looking Back,  That

The Passengers Had Hardly Had Time To Become Acquainted With Each Other's

Names,  He Added. He Was Sure It Was The Young Man; Of Very Light

Complexion,  Ready And Rather Loose (If Mr. Gum Would Excuse His Saying

So) In Speech. He Had Made Thoroughly Good Hauls Of Gold At The Last,  And

Was Going Home To Spend It. He Was The Second Killed,  Poor Fellow; Had

Risen Up With A Volley Of Oaths (Excuses Begged Again) To Defend The

Captain,  And Was Struck Down And Killed.

 

Poor Jabez Gum Gasped. _Killed?_ Was The Gentleman _Sure_? Quite Sure;

And,  Moreover,  He Saw His Body Thrown Overboard With The Rest Of The

Dead. And The Money--The Gold? Jabez Asked,  When He Had Somewhat

Recovered Himself. The Passenger Laughed--Not At The Poor Father,  But At

The Worse Than Useless Question; Gold And Everything Else On Board The

_Morning Star_ Had Gone Down With Her To The Bottom Of The Sea.

 

A Species Of Savage Impulse Rose In The Clerk's Mind,  Replacing His First

Emotion Of Grief; An Impulse That Might Almost Have Led Him To Murder The

Villain Gordon,  Could He Have Come Across Him. Was There A Chance That

The Man Would Be Taken? He Asked. Every Chance,  If He Dared Show His Face

In England,  The Passenger Answered. A Reward Of Seven Hundred Pounds Was

An Inducement To The Survivors To Keep Their Eyes Open; And They'd Do It,

Besides,  Without Any Reward. Moreover--If Gordon Had Escaped,  His

Comrades In The Boat Had Escaped With Him. They Were Lawless Men Like

Himself,  Every One Of Them,  And They Would Be Sure To Betray Him When

They Found What A Price Was Set Upon His Capture.

 

Clerk Gum Returned Home,  Bearing To His Wife And Calne The Final Tidings

Which Crushed Out All Hope. Mrs. Gum Sank Into A State Of Wild Despair.

At First It Almost Seemed To Threaten Loss Of Reason. Her Son Had Been

Her Sole Idol,  And The Idol Was Shattered. But To Witness Unreasonably

Violent Grief In Others Always Has A Counteracting Effect On Our Own,

And Mr. Gum Soothed His Sorrow And Brought Philosophy To His Aid.

 

"Look You," Said He,  One Day,  Sharply To His Wife,  When She Was Crying

And Moaning,  "There's Two Sides To Every Calamity,--A Bright And A Dark

'Un;" For Mr. Gum Was Not In The Habit Of Treating His Wife,  In The

Privacy Of Their Domestic Circle,  To The Quality-Speech Kept For The

World. "He Is Gone,  And We Can't Help It; We'd Have Welcomed Him Home If

We Could,  And Killed The Fatted Calf,  But It Was God's Will That It

Shouldn't Be. There May Be A Blessing In It,  After All. Who Knows But He

Might Have Broke Out Again,  And Brought Upon Us What He Did Before,  Or

Worse? For My Part,  I Should Never Have Been Without The Fear; Night And

Morning It Would Always Have Stood Before Me; Not To Be Driven Away. As

It Is,  I Am At Rest."

 

She--The Wife--Took Her Apron From Her Eyes And Looked At Him With A Sort

Of Amazed Anger.

 

"Gum! Do You Forget That He Had Left Off His Evil Ways,  And Was Coming

Home To Be A Comfort To Us?"

 

"No,  I Don't Forget It," Returned Mr. Gum. "But Who Was To Say That The

Mood Would Last? He Might Have Got Through His Gold,  However Much It Was,

And Then--. As It Is,