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Old Seaman To A Group Of Sailors,

Watermen,  And Others,  Who Were Lounging About The Dockhead And

Commenting On The Merits Of A First-Class,  Clipper-Built,  Full Rigged

Vessel That Was Lying In The Cove,  Her Sails Loosed And The Blue Peter

Or Signal For Sailing,  Flying At The Fore.

 

"You May Well Say That With Your Own Purty Mouth,  For It's Yourself That

Knows That Same,  Cornelius O'donovan,  For Wasn't It Yourself That Made

The First Trip In Her,  And Isn't Captain Costigan A Blood Relation Of

Your Own,  And Sure A Smarter Boy Than Him That Has The Handling Of Her

Isn't To Be Found Between This And Bantry Bay."

 

"It Is Her Fourth Trip To The Cape Of Good Hope," Resumed The First

Speaker,  Knocking The Ashes Out Of His Pipe,  And Preparing To Refill It.

Just Then A Lady,  Dressed In The Height Of The Prevailing Fashion,

Advanced,  And Of One Of The Party Enquired The Name Of The Ship,  And The

Port To Which She Was Bound.

 

"The 'Kaffir Chief,' Outward Bound For The Cape Of Good Hope," Was The

Reply Of The Waterman Who Had Been Addressed. "Shall I Put You On Board,

My Lady?"

 

"Not At This Moment,--But When Does She Sail?"

 

"She Will Up Anchor And Top Her Boom At Sunset," Answered Another Of The

Bystanders.

 

"They Are Lowering A Boat," Said The Old Tar,  Who Had First Spoken,  Who

Was Now Taking A Squint At Her Through A Small Pocket Telescope; "It Is

The Skipper Coming Ashore For His Papers,  Mails,  And Perhaps To Jack Up

Some Stray Passengers."

 

"You Would Oblige Me By Telling The Captain That A Lady Wishes To Speak

To Him As Soon As He Lands,  And Then See If You Can Manage To Drink My

Health At Yonder Little Public House," And Mrs. Fraudhurst Here Held Out

A Crown Piece To The Old Seaman,  Who Gladly Accepted The Offered Coin.

"What Did You Say The Captain's Name Was?" It Was Immediately Given.

"Then Be Good Enough To Tell Captain Costigan That He Will Find Me

Waiting For Him Beneath Those Trees Yonder," She Said,  As She Turned And

Walked In The Direction Indicated.

 

"Pretty Spoken Woman That; Devilish Good Looting,  Too; What Can She Want

With Old Castigan?" Remarked One Of The Party.

Chapter 15 Pg 102

There Be Any Room In The 'Kaffir Chief,'" Replied Another Of The

Bystanders,  "Go Over At Once To The 'Jolly Sailor'; I Will Be With You

As Soon As I Deliver The Lady's Message,  And Then We Will Drink Her

Health," Said The Old Salt Who Had Received The Lady's Bounty.

 

"Captain Costigan,  Of The 'Kaffir Chief,' I Believe," Said Mrs.

Fraudhurst As She Advanced From Under The Trees,  From Whence She Had

Been Watching His Approach.

 

"The Same At Your Service Madam," Was The Reply Of The Polite Seaman,  As

He Lifted His Glazed Hat And Bowed To The Person Who Addressed Him.

 

"I Have,  Unfortunately,  Lost My Passage In The 'Eastern Monarch,' Which

Sailed Some Days Since From London,  And Am Anxious To Return To The Cape

With As Little Delay As Possible. I Noticed In The Newspaper That Your

Vessel Was Bound To That Port,--Am I Too Late,  Or Have You Room For

Another?" The Captain Eyed Her For A Moment,  And Apparently Satisfied

With His Scrutiny,  Replied:

 

"I Have But Few Passengers,  And There Is A First-Class Berth Vacant,

With Excellent Accommodation. You Will I Trust Take A Sailor's Word For

That,  As The Time Is Short,  And I Sail At Sunset."

 

"The Truth And Honesty Of Our Sailors Are Proverbial," Said The Lady

With One Of Her Blandest Smiles. He Then Accompanied Her To The Hotel;

Here Matters Were Quickly Arranged,  The Passage Money Paid Down,  And

Captain Costigan Promised To Call For Her,  And Convey Her And Her

Effects On Board On His Return Call. This Had Been So Quietly

Managed--No Agent Or Go Between Employed--That No Person,  Not Even The

Landlord Of The Hotel,  Was Aware Of Her Intentions. He Was Under The

Impression That The Lady,  Who Occupied Two Of The Best Rooms In His

House,  Would In All Probability Remain There For The Rest Of The

Summer. This He Judged From What She Had Let Fall During A Conversation

He Had Had With Her An Hour After Her Arrival,  And The Worthy Man Was

Quite Taken Aback When She Paid Her Bill,  And Leaning On The Arm Of

Captain Costigan,  Left His Establishment,  To Take Up Her Quarters On

Board The Good Ship,  Now Lying With Her Anchor Apeak In The Offing.

 

From The Quarter Deck Of The "Kaffir Chief," Towards The Close Of That

Beautiful Summer Day,  Could Be Seen A Magnificent Panoramic View Of One

Of The Finest Harbors In Europe,  With The Purple-Tinted Hills Of Munster

In The Distance,  And The Iron-Bound Coast Standing Boldly Out On Either

Side,  And Beaten With The Surges Which Impetuously Dashed Against The

Rugged Steeps. In Stormy Weather The Billows Rolled In From The Dark

Ocean In Long Arching Waves,  Bursting With A Deafening Noise On The

Beething Cliffs,  And Scattering The Salt Spray Hundreds Of Feet In The

Air. Then Again Met The Eye The Fortifications On Spike Island,  Convict

Depot,  Carlisle Fort,  Light House,  Camden Fort,  Black Point,  And The

Handsome City Of Cork,  With Its Bustling Streets And Its Quays And

Docks,  Crowded With Vessels Of All Nations,  Presenting A Picture Well

Worth Travelling Miles To Behold. But What A Bright Change Has Come Over

The Spirit Of The Age,  Since The Days Of Elizabeth And Religious

Persecution,  When Cork Was Made A Howling Wilderness,  Because Its

Chapter 15 Pg 103

Ordered By Law. Verily,  In Every Country,  And In Every Age,  Mad

Fanaticism Has Played Such Pranks Before High Heaven As To Make Even The

Angels Weep For Poor Humanity. But We Live In Happier Times Now,  And

Enjoy That Great Blessing,  Liberty Of Conscience,  To Its Fullest

Extent.

 

The Wind Was Fair,  And,  With Every Sail Set,  The Gallant Bark,  On The

Top Of The White Crested Foam Of The Rippling Waves,  Floated Proudly Out

To Sea,  And Was Soon Hull Down In The Distance,  Her Tall Tapering Spars

Fading From View,  For The Bright Orb Of Day Had Already Sank Beneath Its

Ocean Bed,  And The Golden Tints Of The Horizon Were Fast Deepening To

The Purple Shades Of Night. There Were But Three Other Passengers,  An

Old Major Of Artillery,  A Merchant Of Cape Town,  And A Juvenile Ensign

Of Infantry,  Going Out To Join His Regiment. There Were No Other Ladies

On Board; This Was A Source Of Infinite Satisfaction To The Flying

Widow,  Who,  From Prudential Motives,  Had Engaged Her Passage Under The

Name Of Mrs. Harcourt Grenville,  And Fears For Her Personal Safety Were

Completely Set At Rest On Finding That The News Of The Accident By Rail,

Which Had Cost Sir Ralph Coleman His Life,  Had Not Reached The Ear Of

Any Person On Board,  And She,  Herself,  Was Not Quite Certain But That

Her Accomplice In Fraud Might Yet Survive; If So,  Her Condition Was

Still Very Precarious,  But She Argued That He Would Scarcely Recover,  Or

He Would Not Have Committed Himself By Making Known To The World His

Share In The Transaction Concerning The Stolen Will,  And Under The

Assumed Name,  And In A Distant Land,  She Would Be Secure From Detection.

She Had No Intention Of Remaining At The Cape; Her Object Was To Try Her

Fortune In India,  And Had Only Come On Board The "Kaffir Chief," As It

Afforded Her The Earliest Opportunity For Evading Pursuit. She Was Well

Aware That She Could Easily Proceed To India From The Cape In One Of The

Indiamen That So Frequently Touched At That Port,  And So,  On The Whole,

She Felt Tolerably Easy In Her New Position,  And Set To Work,  With Her

Usual Tact,  To Make Herself Agreeable To The Captain And Her Fellow

Travellers. Ensign Winterton She Took Under Her Especial Protection,

Which Very Much Flattered His Boyish Pride; Made Considerable Headway

With Major Dowlas,  Who,  By The Way,  Was A Bachelor; And Never Failed To

Accept The Proffered Arm Of The Attentive Captain,  When On Deck; For

Although Married And On The Wrong Side Of Fifty,  Being An Irishman And A

Corkonian,  He Was Not Insensible To The Charms Of A Handsome Woman Some

Years His Junior.

 

Her Account Of Herself Was,  That She Was The Wife Of A Surgeon At

Graham's Town,  Had Been Some Time In England,  And Had Spent The Spring

And Part Of The Summer In London,  And Intended To Remain At Cape Town

Until Her Husband Came For Her. She Had Several Thousand Pounds,  The

Savings Of Some Twenty Years,  Dressed With Excellent Taste,  And Had

Taken Such Good Care Of Her Constitution,  That She Looked At Least Ten

Years Younger Than She Really Was,  And Felt Convinced From All She Had

Heard And Read,  That She Would Experience But Little Difficulty In

Procuring A Suitable Husband And Establishment In One Of The Indian

Presidencies,  She Cared Not Which,  And Having No Acquaintances In The

Army,  Was Not At All Likely To Be Recognized As The Ex-Governess Of

Vellenaux.

 

Chapter 16 Pg 104

There Was Another Change That Had Taken Place In The Little Village Of

Vellenaux Which Has Not Been Brought To The Notice Of The Reader,  And

May As Well Be Introduced Here As Elsewhere,  Since It Must Be Known

Sooner Or Later. The Venerable Rector Who Had Performed The Last Sad

Rites Over Sir Jasper,  Did Not Long Survive His Old And Esteemed Friend.

He Had Been Ailing For Several Months Prior To His Decease,  And Had Been

Assisted In His Clerical Duties By A Curate,  A Gentleman Of

Pre-Possessing Appearance; About Twenty-Eight Years Of Age. He Appeared

To Be Eminently Qualified For The Profession He Had Chosen,  And Entered

With Spirit And Energy Upon The Various Duties That Now Devolved Upon

Him; His Quiet And Unassuming Manner Gained Him The Respect Of The Whole

Neighborhood. He Read With A Clear,  Distinct Tone,  And His Sermons Were

Such As Had Not Been Heard In Vellenaux For Many Years. He Was Always

Welcome Whenever He Visited His Parishioners Or Attended The Sick. He

Took A Very Great Interest In The Sunday School That Had Been

Inaugurated By Edith Who Had,  On Leaving The Willows,  Transferred That

Responsibility To Julia And Emily Barton,  And On Her Sister's Marriage

Emily Presided Over The Classes. This Just Suited One Of Her Tastes And

Habits,  Who Was Ever Ready

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