The King's Own Part 20

"Not yet, Susan,--you have not yet answered the latter part of it."

"What was it?--I don't recollect."

"It was," said McElvina, picking up the piece of twisted paper which Susan had thrown under the grate, "whether you would listen to my entreaties to sign your name in future as on this paper?"

"Oh, McElvina," cried Susan,--"how unfair--how ungenerous! Now I detest you!"

"I'll not believe that. I have your own handwriting to the contrary, and I'll appeal to your father."

"Nay, rather than that--you have set me an example of candour, and shall profit by it. Promise me, McElvina, always to treat me as you have this day,--and here is my hand."

"Who would not be _honest_, to be so rewarded?" replied McElvina, as he embraced the blushing girl.

"Ah,--all's right, I perceive," cried old Hornblow, who had opened the door unperceived. "Come, my children, take my blessing--long may you live happy and united."

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

He was a shrewd philosopher, And had read every text and gloss over, Whatever sceptic could inquire for, For every _why_ he had a _wherefore_.

He could reduce all things to acts, And knew their nature by abstracts.

HUDIBRAS.

Captain M--- was not unmindful of the promise which he had made to McElvina relative to our hero; and when he returned to the ship he sent for Macallan, the surgeon, and requested as a personal favour that he would superintend w.i.l.l.y's education, and direct his studies.

Macallan was too partial to Captain M--- to refuse, and fortunately had imbibed a strong regard for w.i.l.l.y, whose romantic history, early courage, and amiability of disposition, had made him a general favourite. Macallan, therefore, willingly undertook the tuition of a boy who combined energy or mind with docility of disposition and sweetness of temper. There could not have been selected a person better qualified than the surgeon for imparting that general knowledge so valuable in after-life; and, under his guidance, w.i.l.l.y soon proved that strong intellectual powers were among the other advantages which he had received from nature.

The _Aspasia_ flew before the trade winds, and in a few weeks arrived at Barbadoes, where Captain M--- found orders left by the admiral of the station, directing him to survey a dangerous reef of rocks to the northward of Porto Rico, and to continue to cruise for some weeks in that quarter, after the service had been performed. In three days the frigate was revictualled and watered; and the officers had barely time to have their sea arrangements completed, before the frigate again expanded her canvas to a favourable breeze. In a few hours the island was left so far astern as to appear like the blue mist which so often deceives the expectant scanner of the horizon.

"You Billy Pitt! is all my linen come on board?"

"Yes, sar," replied Billy, who was in Courtenay's cabin; "I make bill out; just now cast up multerpication of whole."

"I'm afraid you very often use multiplication in your addition, Mr Billy."

"True bill, sar," replied Billy, coming out of the cabin, and handing a paper to Courtenay.

"What's this?--nineteen tarts! Why, you black thief, I never had any tarts."

"Please let me see, sar," said Billy, peering over his shoulder. "Yes, sar, all right--I count em. Tell washerwoman put plenty of tarch in collar."

"Shirts, you _n.i.g.g.e.r_--why don't you learn to spell with that dictionary of yours?"

"Know how to spell very well, sar," replied Billy, haughtily; "that my way spell '_tarts_.'"

"'Fourteen tockin, seventeen toul.'--You do know how to spell to a T."

"Ma.s.sa Courtenay, doctor not write same way you write."

"Well, Mr Billy."

"You not write same way me--ebery gentleman write different hand. Now, if ebery gentleman write his own way, why not ebery gentleman spell his own way? Dat my way to spell, sar," continued Billy, very much affronted.

"I can't argue with you now, Mr Billy--there's one bell after four striking, and I have hardly had a gla.s.s of wine, from your bothering me.

Upon my soul, its excessively annoying."

"One bell, Mr Courtenay!" cried Jerry at the gun-room door; "Mr Price will thank you to relieve him."

"I say, Mr Prose," continued Jerry, as he pa.s.sed through the steerage to return on deck, "I'll just trouble you to hand your carcase up as soon as convenient."

"Directly, Jerry,--I--will--but my tea--is so hot."

"Well, then leave it, and I'll drink it for you," replied Jerry, ascending the ladder.

"Well, Mr G---, did you tell Mr Courtenay?" inquired Price.

"Yes, sir," replied Jerry.

"What did he say?"

"He said, 'Pa.s.s the bottle, sir,'" replied Jerry, touching his hat, and not changing a muscle of his countenance, although delighted with the vexation that appeared in that of the tired lieutenant, as he walked away forward.

For two or three days the frigate sailed between the islands, which reared their lofty crests abruptly from the ocean, like the embattlements of some vast castle which had been submerged to the water's edge. Her progress was slow, as she was only indebted to the land or sea breezes as they alternately blew, and was becalmed at the close of the day, during the pause between their relieving each other from their never-ceasing duty. Such was the situation of the _Aspasia_ on the evening of the third day. The scene was one of those splendid panoramas which are only to be gazed upon in tropical climes. The sun was near setting: and as he pa.s.sed through the horizontal streaks of vapour, fringed their narrow edges with a blaze of glory, strongly in contrast with the deep blue of the zenith, reflected by the still wave in every quarter, except where the descending orb poured down his volume of rays, which changed the sea into an element of molten gold. The frigate was lying motionless in the narrow channel between two of the islands, the high mountains of which, in deep and solemn shade, were reflected in lengthened shadows, extending to the vessel's sides, and, looking downwards, you beheld the "mountains bowed." Many of the officers were standing abaft admiring the beauty of the scene; but not giving vent to their feelings, from an inward consciousness of inability to do justice to it in their expressions.

Macallan first broke the silence. "Who would imagine, Courtenay, that, ere yonder sun shall rise again, a hurricane may exhaust its rage upon a spot so calm, so beautiful, as this, where all now seems to whisper peace?"

The remark was followed by a noise like that proceeding from a distant gun. "Is it pace you mane, doctor?" said one of the midshipmen, from the sister kingdom. "By the powers, there's 'war to the knife,'

already. Look," continued he, pointing with his finger in a direction under the land, "there's a battle between the whale and the thrasher."

The remark of the midshipman was correct, and the whole party congregated on the taffrail to witness the struggle which had already commenced. The blows of the thrasher, a large fish, of the same species as the whale, given with incredible force and noise on the back of the whale, were now answered by his more unwieldy antagonist, who lashed the sea with fury in his attempts to retaliate upon his more active a.s.sailant; and while the contention lasted, the water was in a foam.

In a few minutes, the whale plunged, and disappeared.

"He has had enough of it," observed the master; "but the thrasher will not let him off so easily. He must come up to breathe directly, and you'll find the thrasher yard-arm and yard-arm with him again."

As the master observed, the whale soon reappeared, and the thrasher, who had closely pursued him, as if determined to make up for lost time, threw himself out of the water, and came down upon the whale, striking him with tremendous force upon the shoulder. The whale plunged so perpendicularly, that his broad tail was many feet upraised in the air, and the persecuted animal was seen no more.

"That last broadside settled him," said Courtenay.

"_Sunk_ him too, I think," cried Jerry.

"Strange," observed Courtenay, addressing Macallan, "that there should be such an antipathy between the animals. The West Indians a.s.sert, that at the same time the thrasher attacks him above, the sword-fish pierces him underneath--if so, it must be very annoying."

"I have heard the same story, but have never myself seen the sword-fish," replied Macallan: "it is, however, very possible, as there is no animal in the creation that has so many enemies as the whale."

"A tax on greatness," observed Jerry; "I'm glad it goes by _bulk_. Mr Macallan," continued he, "you're a philosopher, and I have heard you argue that whatever is, is right--will you explain to my consummate ignorance, upon what just grounds the thrasher attacks that unoffending ma.s.s of blubber?"

"I'll explain it to you," said Courtenay, laughing. "The whale, who has just come from the northward, finds himself in very comfortable quarters here, and has no wish to heave up his anchor, and proceed on his voyage round Cape Horn. The thrasher is the port-admiral of the station, and his blows are so many guns to enforce his orders to sail forthwith."