Flora Lyndsay Volume Ii Part 25

What a mournful history Sophy had to tell; and how deeply Mary sympathised in all her afflictions! Left in comfortable and even affluent circ.u.mstances, (for the lawyer employed to wind up Noah Cotton's affairs found that he had large sums invested in several banks, and all his property was willed to his wife,) Sophy was no longer haunted by the dread of poverty, but she often was heard to say with a sigh, that poverty, though a great evil, was not the greatest she had had to contend with; that much as she had in former days murmured over her humble lot while working for daily bread, she was far happier than in the possession of wealth, that had been acquired by dishonest means, and which might emphatically be called _The wages of sin!_ "A little that the righteous hath, is better than great riches of the unG.o.dly."

CHAPTER XXIII.

TRUST IN G.o.d.

A few words more, and my tale is ended.

The death of Noah Cotton, fraught as it was with agony to his wife, was the means of rescuing the child of his first love, Ella Carlos, from ruin--the little girl, whose striking likeness to her mother had made such an impression on the mind of her unfortunate and guilty lover.

After the death of Sir Walter Carlos, who was the last of his name, and, saving the young Ella Manners, his sister's orphan child, the last of his race, the estate at F---- was sold to pay his debts, and the n.o.ble property, that had been for several ages in the family, pa.s.sed into the hands of strangers. The young Ella, left dependent upon the charity of an aunt of her fathers, married the curate of a small parish not many miles from H----, in the county of S----. The match was one of pure affection; the beautiful young girl brought no fortune to her husband.

Mr. Grant's income was less than 150_l._ per annum; but in the eyes of love, it seemed sufficient for all their wants. Several years pa.s.sed away, and the young couple, though obliged to dispense with most of the luxuries of life, did not repent the imprudent step they had taken.

Ella was the happy mother of three fine children, and she nearly doubled her husband's slender income by teaching a small but select school. At length the day of trial came. Mr. Grant was taken ill, and was obliged to relinquish his parochial duties. Ella's time was devoted entirely to her sick husband. The school was broken up, and after a long and severe affliction, which consumed all their little savings, the curate died deeply regretted by his flock, by whom he was justly beloved; and such was the poverty of his circ.u.mstances, that his funeral, and decent mourning for his wife and children, were furnished by subscription.

After the melancholy rite was over, the widow found herself and her young children utterly dest.i.tute.

"I have hands to work--I must not despair," said she, as she divided the last morsel of bread she had among the children, reserving none for herself; "I have trusted in G.o.d all my life, and though it has come to this, I will trust in His mercy yet."

She sat down by the window, and looked sadly towards the churchyard. She could scarcely, as yet, realize the truth, that her husband was sleeping there, and that she, the cherished idol of his heart, had prayed for daily bread from the great Father, and was fasting from sheer want. It was a bleak cold day,--the autumnal wind was stripping the sallow leaves from the trees, and roaring like a hungry demon among the shivering branches; a little sparrow hopped upon the window-sill, and relieved his hunger by picking up some gra.s.s seeds that the children had gathered in the ear; and left by accident there,--and while the poor mourner watched the bird through her tears, the text so touchingly ill.u.s.trating the providential care of the Creator, recurred to her memory--"Fear not, ye are of more value than many sparrows,"--and she dried the tears from her eyes, and felt comforted.

The postman's sharp rap at the door roused her from her vision of hope and trust, and she was presented with a letter. Alas! the postage was unpaid, to her, who had not a single penny. This was a severe disappointment.

"John Hays, I cannot take in the letter."

"Why not, Ma'am, I'm sure 'tis directed to you."

"Yes, but I have no money: I cannot pay the post."

"'Tis only a shilling."

"It might as well be a pound, John. You must take it back."

"No, Ma'am, that's just what John Hays won't do. I arn't over rich myself, but I will trust you with the shilling, and take my chance. That letter may bring you news of a forten."

Mrs. Grant read the letter; honest John, leaning against the open door, eyed her all the while. At length she clasped her hands together, and burst into tears.

"Oh lauk! oh lauk!" he cried, shaking his head; "there's no luck arter all."

Mrs. Grant shook him heartily by the hand. "Your money is safe, John; the letter does contain good news--news most unexpected and surprising.

Thanks be to G.o.d! no one ever trusted Him in vain."

The letter which gave such relief to her mind was from the lawyer employed by Mrs. Cotton in arranging her husband's affairs. It apprised Mrs. Grant of the sum of money found after his death in Noah Cotton's bureau, to which she was the lawful heir, and requesting her for the necessary doc.u.ments, that would enable him to transfer it to her.

This unhoped-for piece of good fortune enabled Mrs. Grant to emigrate with her children to Lower Canada, where a brother of Mr. Grant's had been settled for some years. She opened a school in one of the princ.i.p.al towns, and became a rich and prosperous woman.

Her eldest son is now a surgeon in good practice; her youngest a pious minister; her daughter the wife of a respectable merchant. In the hour of adversity, let us cling close to the Great Father, and he will not leave us without daily bread.

CHAPTER XXIV.

FISHING ON THE BANKS.

Flora finished her story, but she wanted courage to read it to her husband, who was very fastidious about his wife's literary performances.

And many long years pa.s.sed away, and they had known great sorrows and trials in the Canadian wilderness, before she again brought the time-worn ma.n.u.script to light, and submitted it to his critical eye.

And because it pleased him, she, with the vanity natural to the s.e.x, to say nothing of the vanity so common to the author, thought that it might find favour with the public.

They had just reached the banks of Newfoundland, when she commenced writing Noah Cotton, and the ship still lay there in rain and fog, when she brought it to a close.

The condition of the _Anne_ and her pa.s.sengers was little to be envied.

In the steerage, the provisions of the emigrants were nearly exhausted, and the allowance of execrable water was diminished to a pint a day per head. Famine already began to stare them in the face. They had been six weeks at sea, and the poorer emigrants had only provided necessaries for that period. The Captain was obliged to examine the stores which still remained, and to charge the people to make the most sparing use of them until they made land.

The improvident, by this time, were utterly dest.i.tute, and were fed by the Captain, who made them pay what little they could towards their support. This, Mr. Lootie told them, was an act of tyranny, for the Captain was bound to feed them, as long as he had a biscuit in the ship.

Indeed, he lost no opportunity of fostering dissentions between Boreas and his people; and the difficult position in which the old sailor was placed was rendered doubly so, by the mischievous and false representations of this base-minded man.

The poor emigrants grew discontented, as their wants daily increased, and had no longer spirits to dance and enjoy themselves; yet some sort of excitement seemed absolutely necessary, to keep their minds from preying upon themselves and each other.

Now would have been the time for Mr. S----to have proved his Christian ministry, and tried by his advice, and the gentle application of that unerring balsam for all diseases of mind and body, the Word of G.o.d, to reconcile these poor people to their situation, and teach them to bear with fort.i.tude the further trials to which they might be exposed. But at this critical period of the voyage, he kept aloof, and seldom made his appearance upon the deck, or if he did steal out for a const.i.tutional promenade, he rarely exchanged a salutation with the pa.s.sengers.

Not so Mr. Lootie. The little brown man had roused himself from his lair, and was all alive. He might constantly be seen near the forecastle, surrounded by a set of half-famished young fellows, enjoying a low species of gambling, well known to school-boys as "Pitch and Toss," "_Chuck Farthing_," and other equally elegant terms, quite worthy of the amus.e.m.e.nt.

There are some minds so base, that they only require a combination of circ.u.mstances, to show to what depths of meanness they can stoop. Mr.

Lootie's was a mind of this cla.s.s. He felt no remorse in replenishing his pockets from the scanty resources of these poor emigrants, joining in the lowest species of gambling in order to win their money, part of which, as a sort of excuse to himself, he expended in liquor, in order to reconcile his victims to their loss; for, with very few exceptions, he was always the winner.

Even the solitary sixpence, the sole fortune of the brothers Muckleroy, found its way into the pocket of the rapacious defaulter.

Flora watched these proceedings until she could control her indignation no longer, and accosting Mr. Lootie on deck, she remonstrated with him on his immoral and most ungentlemanly conduct. He replied, with a sneer, "They were fools. He had as much right to take advantage of their folly as another. Some one would win their money if he did not. The people were hungry and disappointed; they wanted amus.e.m.e.nt, and so did he; and he was not responsible to Mrs. Lyndsay, or any one else, for his conduct."

Flora appealed to his conscience.

The man had no conscience. It had been hardened and rendered callous long years ago, in the furnace of the world; and she turned from his coa.r.s.e unfeeling face with sentiments of aversion and disgust.

She next tried to warn his simple victims against venturing their little all in an unequal contest with an artful, designing man. In both cases her good intentions were frustrated. The want of employment, and the tedium of a long, dull voyage, protracted under very unfavourable circ.u.mstances, an insufficiency of food and water, the want of the latter in particular rendering them feverish and restless, made the emigrants eager for any diversion sufficiently exciting to rouse them from the listless apathy into which many of them were fast sinking. They preferred gambling, and losing their money, to the dulness of remaining inactive; and the avarice of their opponent was too great to yield to a woman's arguments. Mr. Lootie was a person who held dogs and women in contempt, and in return, he was hated and defied by the one, and shunned and disliked by the other; the unerring instinct of the dog, and the refined sensibility of the woman, keenly discriminating the brutal character of the man.

In the cabin, the Lyndsays fared very little better than the emigrants in the steerage. Tea, sugar, and coffee were luxuries no longer to be thought of; they just lasted the six weeks; and one morning Sam Fraser, with a rueful face, displayed the empty tea-pot, and conveyed the melancholy intelligence that "they were out of everything fit for Christians to eat or drink."

"Can't be helped, Sam," said the Captain, shrugging his shoulders. "We may be thankful that things arn't worse. There is still water in the hold."

"Not much of that either, Sir. It's just the colour of tea, Sir--if it had but the flavour."

"_If_"--ah! that terrible if. What a difference it made to all concerned in its introduction into that sentence--"_if_ it had but the flavour!"

The smell of the water, when it entered the cabin, was bad enough to sicken the keenest appet.i.te; it was sufficiently disgusting to make the strongest individual there wish that he had no nose, no taste, no recollection of a better and purer element, while drinking it. The water was dead, corrupt, and had been so for the last fortnight; but it was all they had wherewith to slake their thirst.