Sir John Constantine Part 22

"Where shall I begin, sir?"

"Wherever you please. The book belongs to my brother Gervase.

For myself I have not even a bowing acquaintance with the good Doctor."

"The first sermon, sir, is upon Human Perfection."

"It should have been the last, surely?"

"Not so, sir; for it starts with Adam in the Garden of Eden."

"Let us hear, then."

Mr. Badc.o.c.k cleared his throat and read:

"The image of G.o.d in man is that universal rect.i.tude of all the faculties of the soul, by which they stand apt and disposed to their respective offices and operations."

"Hold a moment," interrupted my father, whose habit of commenting aloud in church had often disconcerted Mr. Grylls. "Are you quite sure, Mr. Badc.o.c.k, that we are not starting with the Doctor's peroration?"

"This is the first page, sir."

"Then the Doctor himself began at the wrong end. Prosper, will you take a look astern and report me how many boats are coming?"

"Three, sir," said I. "The third has just pushed off from the ship."

"Thank you. Proceed, Mr. Badc.o.c.k."

"And first for its n.o.blest faculty, the understanding. It was then sublime, clear, and aspiring, and as it were the soul's upper region, lofty and serene, free from the vapours and disturbances of the inferior affections. . . . Like the sun it had both light and agility; it knew no rest but in motion; no quiet but in activity. . . . It did arbitrate upon the several reports of sense, and all the varieties of imagination; not like a drowsy judge, only hearing, but also directing their verdict. In sum, it was vegete quick and lively; open as the day, untainted as the morning, full of the innocence and sprightliness of youth; it gave the soul a bright and a full view into all things."

"A fine piece of prose," remarked Mr. Fett as Mr. Badc.o.c.k drew breath.

"A fine fiddlestick, sir!" quoth my father. "The man is talking largely on matters of which he can know nothing; and in five minutes (I bet you) he will come a cropper."

Mr. Badc.o.c.k resumed--

"For the understanding speculative there are some general maxims and notions in the mind of man, which are the rules of discourse and the basis of all philosophy."

"As, for instance, never to beg the question," snapped my father, who from this point let scarce a sentence pa.s.s without pishing and pshawing.

"Now it was Adam's happiness in the state of innocence to have these clear and unsullied. He came into the world a philosopher--"

("Instead of which he went and ate an apple.")

"He could see consequents yet dormant in their principles, and effects yet unborn and in the womb of their causes."

("'Tis a pity, then, he took not the trouble to warn Eve.")

"His understanding could almost pierce to future contingencies.

("Ay, 'almost.' The fellow begins to scent mischief, and thinks to set himself right with a saving clause. Why 'almost'?" )

"his conjectures improving even to prophecy, or to certainties of prediction. Till his fall he was ignorant of nothing but sin; or, at least, it rested in the notion without the smart of the experiment."

My father stamped the b.u.t.t of his musket upon deck. "'Rested in the notion,' did it? Nothing of the sort, sir! It rested in the apple, which he was told not to eat; but, nevertheless, ate. Born a philosopher, was he? And knew the effect of every cause without knowing the difference between good and evil? Why, man, 'twas precisely against becoming a philosopher that the Almighty took pains to warn him!"

Mr. Badc.o.c.k hastily turned a page.

"The image of G.o.d was no less resplendent in that which we call man's practical understanding--namely, that storehouse of the soul in which are treasured up the rules of action and the seeds of morality. Now of this sort are these maxims: 'That G.o.d is to be worshipped,' 'That parents are to be honoured,'

'That a man's word is to be kept.' It was the privilege of Adam innocent to have these notions also firm and untainted--"

My father flung up both hands. "Oh! So Adam honoured his father and his mother?"

"Belike," suggested Billy Priske, scratching his head, "Eve was expecting, and he invented it to keep her spirits up."

"I a.s.sure you, sir," Mr. Badc.o.c.k protested with dignity, "Dr. South was the most admired preacher of his day. Her late Majesty offered him the Deanery of Westminster."

"I could have found a better preferment for him, then; that of Select Preacher to the Marines."

"If you will have patience, sir--"

"Prosper, how near is the leading boat?"

"A good mile away, sir, as yet."

"Then I will have patience, Mr. Badc.o.c.k."

"The Doctor, sir, proceeds to make some observations on Love, with which you will find yourself able to agree. Love, he says--

"'is the great instrument and engine of Nature, the bond and cement of society; the spring and spirit of the universe. . . .

Now this affection in the state of innocence was happily pitched upon its right object--'"

"'Happily,' did you say? 'Happily'? Why, good heavens, sir! how many women had Adam to go gallivanting after? Enough, enough, gentleman! To your guns! and in the strength of a faith which must be strong indeed, to have survived its expositors!"

By this time, through our gla.s.ses, we could discern the faces of the pirates, who, crowded in the bows and stern-sheets of the two leading boats, weighted them almost to the water's edge. The third had dropped, maybe half a mile behind in the race, but these two came on, stroke for stroke, almost level--each measuring, at a guess, some sixteen feet, and manned by eight rowers. They bore down straight for our stern, until within a hundred yards; then separated, with the evident intention of boarding us upon either quarter. At fifty yards the musketeers in their bows opened fire, while my father whistled to old Worthyvale, who, during Dr. South's sermon, had been bringing the points of half a dozen handspikes to a red heat in the galley fire.

The two seamen, Nat and I, retorted with a volley, and Nat had the satisfaction to drop the steersman of the boat making towards our starboard quarter. Unluckily, as it seemed--for this was the boat on which my father was training our 3-pounder--this threw her into momentary confusion at a range at which he would not risk firing, and allowed her mate to run in first and close with us. The confusion, however, lasted but ten seconds at the most; a second steersman stepped to the helm; and the boat came up with a rush and grated alongside, less than half a minute behind her consort.

Now the _Gauntlet_, as the reader will remember, sailed in ballast, and therefore carried herself pretty high in the water. Moreover, our enemies ran in and grappled us just forward of her quarter, where she carried a movable panel in her bulwarks to give access to an accommodation ladder. While Nat, Captain Pomery, Mr. Fett, and the two seamen ran to defend the other side, at a nod from my father I thrust this panel open, leapt back, and Mr. Badc.o.c.k aiding, ran the little gun out, while my father depressed its muzzle over the boat.

In our excess of zeal we had nearly run her overboard; indeed, I believe that overboard she would have gone had not my father applied the red-hot iron in the nick of time. The explosion that followed not only flung us staggering to right and left, but lifted her on its recoil clean out of her rickety carriage, and kicked her back and half-way across the deck.

Recovering myself, I gripped my musket and ran to the bulwarks.

A heave of the swell had lifted the boat up to receive our discharge, which must have burst point-blank upon her bottom boards; for I leaned over in bare time to see her settling down in a swirl beneath the feet of her crew, who, after vainly grabbing for hold at the _Gauntlet's_ sides, flung themselves forward and were swimming one and all in a sea already discoloured for some yards with blood.

My father called to me to fire. I heard; but for the moment the dusky upturned faces with their bared teeth fascinated me.

They looked up at me like faces of wild beasts, neither pleading nor hating, and in response I merely stared.

A cry from the larboard bulwarks aroused me. Three Moors, all naked to the waist, had actually gained the deck. A fourth, with a long knife clenched between his teeth, stood steadying himself by the main rigging in the act to leap; and in the act of turning I saw Captain Pomery chop at his ankles with a cutla.s.s and bring him down. We made a rush on the others. One my father clubbed senseless with the b.u.t.t of his musket; another the two seamen turned and chased forward to the bows, where he leapt overboard; the third, after hesitating an instant, retreated, swung himself over the bulwarks, and dropped back into the boat.

But a second cry from Mr. Fett warned us that more were coming.

Mr. Fett had caught up a sack of stones, and was staggering with it to discharge it on our a.s.sailants when this fresh uprush brought him to a check.