Run to Earth, Mary Elizabeth Braddon [epub ebook reader .TXT] 📗
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under the owner of the “Vixen.”
They met accidentally in one of the streets about Wapping. Joseph
Buncombe was delighted to encounter a seafaring friend, and insisted
on taking George Jernam down to River View Cottage to eat what he
called a homely bit of dinner.
The homely bit of dinner turned out to be a very excellent repast; for
Mrs. Mugby prided herself upon her powers as a cook and housekeeper,
and to produce a good dinner at a short notice was a triumph she much
enjoyed.
Susan Trott waited at table in her prettiest cotton gown and smartest
cap.
Rosamond Duncombe sat by her father’s side during the meal; and after
dinner, when the curtains were drawn, and the lamp lighted, the captain
of the “Vixen” set himself to brew a jorum of punch in a large old
Japanese china bowl, the composition of which punch was his strong
point.
Altogether that little dinner and cheerful evening entertainment seemed
the perfection of home comfort. George Jernam had been too long a
stranger to home and home pleasures not to feel the cheerful influence
of that hospitable abode.
For Joseph Duncombe the companionship of his old friend was delightful.
The society of the sailor was as invigorating to the nostrils of a
seaman as the fresh breeze of ocean after a long residence inland.
“You don’t know what a treat it is to me to have an old shipmate with
me once more, George,” he said. “My little Rosy and I live here pretty
comfortably, though I keep a tight hand over her, I can tell you,” he
added, with pretended severity; “but it’s dull work for a man who has
lived the best part of his life on the sea to find himself amongst a
pack of spooney landsmen. Never you marry a landsman, Rosy, if you
don’t want me to cut you off with a shilling,” he cried, turning to his
daughter.
Of course Miss Rosamond Duncombe blushed on hearing herself thus
apostrophized, as young ladies of eighteen have a knack of blushing
when the possibility of their falling in love is mentioned.
George Jernam saw the blush, and thought that Miss Duncombe was the
prettiest girl he had ever seen.
George Jernam stayed late at the cottage, for its hospitable owner was
loth to let his friend depart.
“How long do you stay in London, George?” he asked, as the young man
was going away.
“A month, at least—perhaps two months.”
“Then be sure you come down here very often. You can dine with us every
Sunday, of course, for I know you haven’t a creature belonging to you
in London except Harker; and you can run down of an evening sometimes,
and bring him with you, and smoke your cigar in my garden, with the
bright water rippling past you, and all the ships in the Pool spreading
their rigging against the calm grey sky; and I’ll brew you a jorum of
punch, and Rosy shall sing us a song while we drink it.”
It is not to be supposed that George Jernam, who had a good deal of
idle time on his hands, could refuse to oblige his old captain, or
shrink from availing himself of hospitality so cordially pressed upon
him.
He went very often in the autumn dusk to spend an hour or two at River
View Cottage, where he always found a hearty welcome. He strolled in
the garden with Captain Duncombe and Rosamond, talking of strange lands
and stranger adventures.
Harker did not always accompany him; but sometimes he did, and on such
occasions Rosamond seemed unaccountably glad to see him. Harker paid
her no more attention than usual, and invariably devoted himself to Joe
Duncombe, who was frequently lazy, and inclined to smoke his cigar in
the comfortable parlour. On these occasions George Jernam and Rosamond
Duncombe strolled side by side in the garden; and the sailor
entertained his fair companion by the description of all the strangest
scenes he had beheld, and the most romantic adventures he had been
engaged in. It was like the talk of some seafaring Othello; and never
did Desdemona more “seriously incline” to hear her valiant Moor than
did Miss Duncombe to hear her captain.
One of the windows of Joseph Duncombe’s favourite sitting-room
commanded the garden; and from this window the captain of the “Vixen”
could see his daughter and the captain of the “Albatross” walking side
by side upon the smoothly kept lawn. He used to look unutterably sly as
he watched the two figures; and on one occasion went so far as to tap
his nose significantly several times with his ponderous forefinger.
“It’s a match!” he muttered to himself; “it’s a match, or my name is
not Joe Duncombe.”
Susan Trott was not slow to notice those evening walks in the garden.
She told the dashing young baker that she thought there would be a
wedding at the cottage before long.
“Yours, of course,” cried the baker.
“For shame, now, you impitent creature!” exclaimed Susan, blushing till
she was rosier than the cherry-coloured ribbons in her cap; “you know
what I mean well enough.”
Neither Captain Duncombe nor Susan Trott were very far wrong. The
“Albatross” was not ready for her next cruise till three months after
George Jernam’s first visit to River View Cottage, nor did the captain
of the vessel seem particularly anxious to hasten the completion of the
repairs.
When the “Albatross” did drop down into the Channel, she sailed on a
cruise that was to last less than six months; and when George Jernam
touched English ground again, he was to return to claim Rosamond
Duncombe as his plighted wife. This arrangement had Joyce Harker’s
hearty approbation; but when he, too, had taken leave of George Jernam,
he turned away muttering, “I think he really has forgotten Captain
Valentine now; but I have not, I have not. No, I remember him better
than ever now, when there’s no one but me.”
*
The “Albatross” came safely back to the Pool in the early spring
weather. George Jernam had promised Rosamond that she should know of
his coming before ever he set foot on shore, and he contrived to keep
his word.
One fine March day she saw a vessel sailing up the river, with a white
flag flying from the main-mast. On the white flag blazed, in bright red
letters, the name, “Rosamond!”
When Miss Duncombe saw this, she knew at once that her lover had
returned. No other vessel than the “Albatross” was likely to sport such
a piece of bunting.
George Jernam came back braver, truer, handsomer even than when he went
away, as it seemed to Rosamond. He came back more devoted to her than
ever, she thought; and a man must have been indeed cold of heart who
could be ungrateful for the innocent, girlish affection which Rosamond
revealed in every word and look.
The wedding took place within a month of the sailor’s return; and,
after some discussion, George Jernam consented that he and his wife
should continue to live at the cottage.
“I can’t come here to take possession of your house,” he had said,
addressing himself to his future father-in-law; “that would be rather
too much of a good thing. I know you’d like to keep Rosy in the
neighbourhood, and so you shall. I’ll do as you did. I’ll find a little
bit of ground near here, and build myself a comfortable crib, with a
view of the river.”
“Stuff and nonsense!” replied Captain Duncombe. “If that’s what you are
going to do, you shall not have my Rosy. I’ve no objection to her
having a husband on the premises; but the day she leaves my roof for
the sake of any man in Christendom, I’ll cut her off with a shilling—
and the shilling shall be a bad one.”
The captain of the “Albatross” took his young wife into Devonshire for
a brief honeymoon; and during this pleasant spring-time holiday,
Rosamond made the acquaintance of her husband’s aunt. Susan Jernam was
pleased with the bright-eyed, pure-minded, modest girl, and in the few
days they were together, learned to regard her with a motherly feeling,
which was destined to be of priceless value to Rosy at an unforeseen
crisis of the new life that began so fairly.
Never did a married couple begin their new life with a fairer prospect
than that which lay before George Jernam and his wife when they
returned to River View Cottage. Captain Duncombe received his son-in-law with the hearty welcome of a true seaman; but a few days after
George Jernam’s return, the old sailor took him aside, and made an
announcement which filled him with surprise.
“You know how fond I am of Rosy,” he said, “and you know that if
Providence had blessed me with a son of my own, he couldn’t have been
much dearer to me than you are; so come what may, neither you or Rosy
must doubt my affection for both of you. Come now, George, promise me
you won’t.”
“I promise, with all my heart,” answered Captain Jernam; “I should no
more think of doubting your goodness or your love for us, than I should
think of doubting that there’s a sun shining up aloft yonder. But why
do you speak of this?”
“Because, George, the truth of the matter is, I’m going to leave you.”
“You are going to leave us?”
“Yes, old fellow. You see, a lazy, land-lubber’s life doesn’t suit me.
I’ve tried it, and it don’t answer. I thought the sound of the water
washing against the bank at the bottom of my garden, and the sight of
the ships in the Pool, would be consolation enough for me, but they
ain’t, and I’ve been sickening for the sea for the last six mouths. As
long as my little Rosy had nobody in the world but me to take care of
her, I stayed with her, and I should have gone on staying with her till
I died at my post. But she’s got a husband now, and two trust-worthy
women-servants, who would protect her if you left her—as I suppose you
must leave her, sooner or later—so there’s no reason why I should stop
on shore any longer, pining for a sight of blue water.”
“And you really mean to leave us!” exclaimed George Jernam. “I am
afraid your going will break poor Rosy’s heart.”
“No it won’t, George,” answered Captain Duncombe. “When a young woman’s
married, her heart is uncommonly tough with regard to everybody except
her husband. I dare say poor little Rosy-posy will be sorry to lose her
old father; but she’ll have you to console her, and she won’t grieve
long. Besides, I’m not going away for ever, you know. I’m only just
going to take a little cruise to the Indies, with a cargo of dry goods,
make a bit of money for my grandchildren that are to be, and then come
home again, fresher than ever, and settle down in the bosom of my
family. I’ve seen a neat little craft that will suit me to a T; and I
shall fit her out, and be off for blue water before the month is
ended.”
It was evident that the old sailor was in earnest, and George Jernam
did not attempt to overrule his determination. Rosamond pleaded against
her father’s departure, but she pleaded in vain. Early in June Captain
Duncombe left England on board a neat little craft, which he christened
the “Young Wife,” in compliment to his daughter.
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