Jethou Part 9

The boat was now in good trim, and I had no fear for her safety nor my own, so placing the lantern on the floor, I sat down and read by its uncertain light the stirring service for the "Burial of those who die at Sea." Fervently I said those prayers as the salt spray, mingling with my tears, ran down my face, and when I p.r.o.nounced the words, "I therefore commit his body to the deep," I looked around fearfully, as if the man might still be near me, but I saw him no more.

The bell of St. Peter's struck twelve o'clock just as the service was finished, sounding as I had never heard it sound before--so solemn and full of meaning as it tolled out in the still midnight air.

I pulled back with great effort, by reason of the heavy roll of the sea, and landed by the ruined boathouse, with great risk of losing both myself and boat. When safely ash.o.r.e at last I was thankful to have accomplished my dread mission without accident. As I hauled my boat up I felt as if a tremendous weight had been lifted from my shoulders, and was quite happy again; probably at having acted the Good Samaritan to a man who, like the one in the Bible, was not of the same country or creed as myself.

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CHAPTER XI.

CLIMATE IN WINTER--VISION OF MY FATHER--A WARNING VOICE--SUPERNATURAL MANIFESTATIONS--THE FALLING ROCK--MY LIFE SAVED BY MY DOG.

Winter was now come, but a very different atmosphere prevailed to what I had been used to in my Norfolk home. There I was accustomed to see the broads and rivers frozen over, and the means of communication by boat between the various rivers completely stopped. There we dreaded the marrow-piercing north-east wind which, coming straight across the cold North Sea from icebound Norway and the frozen Baltic, caused everything, animal and vegetable, to be cut and chilled, so that frequently both man and plant succ.u.mbed to its penetrating rigour; but here the north or east wind is not nearly such a dreaded visitor, and it is only on exceptional days that its biting power is felt.

There nothing seemed to grow during the winter, all vegetation slumbered, sometimes never to awaken; here in mid winter the primrose and violet were in full bloom, and on New Year's Day I gathered quite a posy of garden flowers, including roses and other fragrant flowers.

Snow fell on two or three occasions, but the bright sun dissipated it very quickly, and the frosts were not at all severe; in fact, were only of occasional occurrence. These frosts are only severe enough to hurt one cla.s.s of persons, and that is the gardeners, who dread a frost coming after the blossoms are set on the trees. The climate being so mild the blossom buds burst at a very early period, so that a late frost coming nips them, then good-bye to the fruit.

Frequently potatoes are here being eaten before the green tops are above ground in England, which is another proof of the mildness of the climate. No doubt this mildness and equability of temperature is due in a great measure to the influence of the Gulf Stream, which keeps the surrounding sea at an even temperature; the sea in turn tempering the wind, keeps the thermometer very level.

There is usually a very mild fortnight towards the end of October, which the natives call "La pet.i.te ete;" it appears like a return of summer, and is greatly enjoyed by everyone as the last of the really warm weather.

In the matter of sunshine England cannot be compared with these islands, for taking our much-favoured Devonshire, and comparing the hours of sunshine for December, January, and February, I find that in the Channel Islands the sun shews its face just double the number of hours that it does in fertile Devon.

In my garden on January 25th I had peas a foot above ground. How I should have liked to shew my father these, he would scarcely have believed his eyes, for April 25th in Norfolk, would not have produced anything much more forward.

Now, having mentioned my father, I must tell a curious incident which happened concerning him upon the last day of January. About eight o'clock in the evening I was sitting finishing a sketch of Crevichon, with my dog lying asleep near the fire, when he suddenly half raised himself, and looking towards the other end of the room commenced to whine.

I followed his eyes, and there to my astonishment sat my father. He sat on a stool facing me, with his leg, which was enveloped in a huge covering, upon another stool. His right hand rested upon the covered leg, while his left was placed upon his heart. As the dog whined he looked straight at me, and in his well-known voice said,

"It's all right, Harry, my boy, but it _was_ a shake!"

I stood up to rush to him, but as I rose he melted away, leaving nothing but the two empty seats. I was staggered, but calm immediately, for I had read of things of this kind before, and concluded that my father had met with some accident, and had thus by some unknown means communicated with me in spirit.

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I knew nothing of the why or wherefore of this wonderful means of communication between two persons, but judged that in this case it happened in this wise. My father had met with a severe accident, which he was probably afraid might have had a fatal termination, that his thoughts were intent upon me, his absent son. As he intently thought of me, and how he should like to speak to me, he may have actually spoken the words to himself, which by some unknown means I heard apparently fall from his own lips, and in his very voice.

The words a.s.sured me of his safety, and therefore beyond taking a note of the day and the hour, I did not trouble myself much more about the curious incident.

While on this subject of the apparently supernatural, I will mention one or two other inexplicable things which occurred to me during my residence on Jethou.

One night in autumn I could not sleep, so towards dawn got up and dressed myself, as I had frequently done before, and took a walk round the island, a distance of over a mile. This proceeding always had the effect of giving me the desired sleep upon my again wooing Morpheus. On this particular night my mind was filled with the question, "How can I keep my fish pond always replenished with sea water?" and as I wandered on in the dark, knowing the path so well, I was concocting a new pumping device, when my steps were suddenly arrested by the word "Harry!"

p.r.o.nounced gently but plainly just behind me. This woke me abruptly from my reverie, and I turned round quickly, but could see nothing but my faithful dog at my heels. "Strange, very strange indeed," I thought, and was about to resume my walk, but there, not four steps away, was the yawning abyss of La Creux Derrible, into which I should have walked in another second, and been dashed to pieces on the rocks below. My life was saved, but by what? Was it a spirit voice or some night bird that in my abstraction I fancied p.r.o.nounced my name?[2] Some will say the latter, but I must maintain that it was a curious thing that this should happen at precisely the correct instant, just in time to save me from a violent death. It _was_ a voice, for I recognized it as that of my own love, Priscilla, who was at the moment two or three hundred miles away.

But how could _she_ know of my danger?

It may strike the reader as strange, and it is _strange_, I will allow; but on another occasion my life was saved in a remarkable manner. One afternoon late in the winter, after a heavy fall of rain, I was sitting near the brink of the granite cliff on the west side of the island, making a sketch of some rock ma.s.ses in the glow of the ruddy setting sun, when "Begum" became suddenly restive, and rubbed several times with his head against my leg, looking up into my eyes at intervals. Then he would walk away, looking round as if wanting me to follow and see something (a proceeding he had often done before); but being busy I did not give way to his solicitations, and went on working. This did not please him, for he now took hold of my coat sleeve, and gave me a tug, with his eyes at the same time fixed on mine; so, to oblige him, I rose, and went after him to see what wonder he had to shew me. Contrary to his usual custom he appeared to have nothing for me to see, but seemed pleased to have me follow him, shewing his joy by wagging his tail, as if he would wriggle his body in two, and looking up into my face over his shoulder to shew his pleasure. As I had nearly finished my sketch I thought I would humour him, and avoid taking cold by sitting too long in the cool atmosphere among the damp rocks. With this thought in my mind I turned round to fetch my colours and sketch, when suddenly near the top of the island a large block of granite, about the size of a thirty-six gallon barrel became detached, and commenced a downward career, crashing all before it in its course. I paused and watched it, waiting to see it bury itself with a mighty splash in the sea.

It descended in leaps and bounds with increasing velocity, till, with a final rise it launched itself upon the very stone on which I was sitting a minute before, and with a sharp crash broke it completely in two, hurling the pieces and itself the next instant into the sea!

My sketch went with the rocky seat, and but for the intervention of my dog I should have been _killed_ first and drowned _afterwards_. My colours, lying on the ground a foot away, were uninjured.

What is the interpretation of this? It might be said that the previous heavy rains had loosened the rock, and the warm sunshine having swelled the ma.s.s of the earth beneath, had overbalanced it, and thus nearly brought about a catastrophe. But what of the dog's warning? It was _strange_, that is all the solution I can give. As a Norfolk labourer once said to me when I was pumping him upon the subject of superst.i.tion,

"Master, there's more things about than we knows of about both by day and night."

Perhaps there are, and if they are _things_ of _good_, so much the better. We know of hypnotism, psychic force, spiritualism, thought reading, and other occult sciences which appear to produce nothing very grand as results for _good_, but who shall say there is not some "Guiding Good" which can (even against our wills) warn us, or sway our minds in a given direction or in some way influence our movements, by means _outside ourselves_?

Sometimes after dark, with a half gale blowing, I have fancied all kinds of things were about, of which the eye or ear might get indistinct glimpses, and with the wind sighing and moaning among the trees and rocks and my solitary life also taken into consideration, was this to be wondered at.

Solitude gives lat.i.tude for an imaginative mind to expand itself, and for one shut up by himself as I was, trifles are frequently made prominent, simply because there is nothing greater to attract one's attention and thought.

The wind sweeping among the rocks in a gale, will at times, form at it were, notes or peculiar noises, which will, with other sounds of rustling branches, the cry of wild fowl and the beat of the sea on the sh.o.r.e, all taking place concurrently, cause the listener to imagine he hears voices. Again, who has not, when walking by a noisy babbling brook, where it falls among rocks and other impediments in a quiet place, heard as he has thought voices as of persons conversing at a distance? Many trout-fishers will have heard these sounds, and know the reason of their being heard; they can fully explain the cause, but I doubt if they could explain the curious experiences related in this chapter.

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FOOTNOTE:

2: I am aware that these things are but trifles to the Theosophists and Esoteric Buddhists, who profess to project their astral bodies, and play many other hocus pocus tricks of transmitting voices and articles to immense distances. They may therefore be able to explain these phenomena, I cannot; still I have the belief that there is some spirit-force which can and does act as a medium between distant persons who are in sympathy with each other.

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CHAPTER XII.

A FAIRY POOL--WONDERS OF THE DEEP--PORTRAIT OF A POET--THE CAVE OF FAUCONNAIRE--A LETTER FROM HOME AND MY ANSWER TO IT.

As the weather towards the end of winter was very uncertain, I did but little boat-fishing, except on very fine days, when the sea was fairly calm, and I had a longing for a certain kind of fish. At such times I would embark for an hour or two, and rarely came home empty-handed.

Crabs and lobsters I soon got tired of, and I think most people who could eat their fill of them for the mere catching would do the same; but a nice sole or slice of turbot takes a long time to satiate one's appet.i.te.

Although little could be done in the garden or field during the winter days I was never idle; that is, I never indulged in lying in bed or letting the time slip dreamily by, so as to induce the belief that I was enjoying myself. No, that would not suit me at all, for my disposition was to be ever on the go--seeing, hearing, or trying to learn something.

Thus I knew almost every rock and cranny round the island, as I was always poking and ogling into odd crannies and pools to see what I could discover. Among my favourite places was the Fauconnaire, which being surrounded at every tide, was always having fresh life and vegetation brought to it by the ever-moving sea.

There were many pools and wonderful little caves round this curious, conical island, of which I knew, and into whose recesses I loved to pry; and although I visited them frequently they seemed ever new to me.

There was, facing due east, a large ma.s.s of rock near the foot of the Fauconnaire, upon which I often sat on a calm day, looking down into the mysteries of the sea. The water was so wonderfully clear, that at a depth of twenty feet I could see every pebble and bunch of weed as plainly as if only a sheet of gla.s.s hid them from view. This was to me very remarkable, as on the sandy east coast of England, an object two or three feet beneath the surface is hidden from the eye by the discolouration of the water, caused by the sand and soft clay cliffs.

Here I could look down at one of the most lovely gardens the eye of man ever rested upon.

It was a wonderfully diversified collection of marine plants of all sizes, shapes, and colours; in fact, a perfect marine paradise. The colours embraced every hue of green, from the pale tint of a cut cuc.u.mber to the darkest shade of bronze, merging upon blackness. The yellow plants embraced every tint of yellow and orange imaginable, while the pinks ran the whole gamut of shades of that colour.