The Rival Crusoes Part 2

FALCONER'S _Shipwreck_.]

The standards of the c.o.c.kpit, an immense quant.i.ty of staves and wood, and part of the lining of the ship, were thrown overboard, that, if the water should appear again in the hold, they might have no impediment in baling.

The Diomede, in this condition, exhibited a scene seldom witnessed,--a line-of-battle ship without masts or rudder, a mere sh.e.l.l in the midst of the ocean. The casks of all sorts, floating from side to side, were stove, and the magazines and store-rooms of every kind washed down.

By nightfall the foremast was secured, and the machine for steering fixed; so that, if the moderate weather continued, they were in hopes of steering the ship, the following day, for the coast of Brazil--the violence of the wind having driven them far out of their course.

During this time of peril and hardship, Sir Henry Stanley could not help observing with satisfaction the altered conduct of young Harley, who was so active, enterprising, and courageous, that no difficulty could overcome him, and no hardship make him complain. He seemed to think the benign looks of Sir Henry Stanley, ever bent with peculiar complacency on those who performed their duties with manly firmness, were a reward for the most painful exertions. All the officers, indeed, noticed the altered conduct of the young mutineer: no traces remained of his former rebellion, except that of his returning the haughty glances of Lord Robert Summers with equal fierceness, when they chanced to meet in the performance of their arduous duties. But nothing could induce him to return the taunts this young officer sometimes bestowed on him with disrespectful language. Depending on the justice of his captain, he bore all in unmoved silence; indeed, his Lordship (who considered Philip as too much his inferior to give him the opportunity of joining in a warfare of words) never condescended to address any provoking speeches _to_ him, but always _at_ him. One would have thought that such frightful circ.u.mstances would have tamed the haughtiest minds; but they both required still severer trials to wring the black spot from their hearts.

The ship, in this perilous state, was in the middle of the great Atlantic, nearly under the equinoctial line, with the water-casks beat to pieces, and most of the provisions spoiled; so that if, by especial providence, the ship should swim, so as to reach a port on the Brazilian coast, the crew would suffer the most cruel hardships from thirst--painful at all times, but intolerable in these burning lat.i.tudes. In this dilemma, some of the people descried land; and they hoped it was one of those small islands on which the Portuguese have little settlements to supply their ships, which trade to Africa, with water and needful refreshments. This island, like those of St. Helena and Ascension, appeared rocky and volcanic; but there were good hopes that springs of water might be discovered on it, if any of the crew could be found enterprising enough to effect a landing, with such a sea, and on such a coast; for, though the gale had lulled, the breakers were furiously high on the sh.o.r.e.

Lord Robert Summers, daring and ardent, and much preferring danger to the lingering agonies of thirst, volunteered to command a boat, if any of the crew would venture themselves under his guidance. Three of the most experienced seamen offered to man the boat; but five hands were indispensable. His Lordship said that he himself would steer the boat, if one more seaman would venture. Philip Harley volunteered his a.s.sistance. "Any one but him!" muttered Lord Robert between his shut teeth, incensed that Philip should show that his courage was equal to his own: however, as his services were offered for the public good, he thought proper, although very unwillingly and ungraciously, to accept them, and the boat was lowered. Sir Henry Stanley bade adieu to his gallant nephew with pain; but he did not attempt to withhold him, dear as he was, from the benefit he was proposing to render the ship's company. When the boat got among the breakers, the prospect of landing appeared so hazardous, that one of the oldest of the seamen, who rowed the boat, proposed returning to the ship. Lord Robert, considering himself accountable for the lives of the men under his care, would not insist on their continuing their efforts, but said:

"My brave fellows! If the attempt seem to you hopeless, I will not urge you to continue it; but if my single life only were at stake I would willingly risk it to obtain a supply of water for our famishing companions."

The sailors then determined to persevere, their recent sufferings from thirst being fresh in their minds. At length, by a desperate effort, they gained the sh.o.r.e, and landed their water-casks. They soon found a pure spring, which gushed from a rocky hill at some little distance from the sh.o.r.e: there was a large wooden cross erected on an eminence, at the spring head; but they found no Portuguese guard at the spring, which is usual in a settlement in those lat.i.tudes; so they presumed the island was uninhabited. The land seemed barren, rocky, and desolate; but, after some research, they found, in a sheltered valley, a few fine lime and cocoa-nut trees, which had evidently been planted by some beneficent navigator. Gathering cocoa-nuts is no very easy operation, as they adhere in close bunches to the crown of the tree by tough ligaments; but as young Harley had brought his axe and saw to cut wood for firing, he climbed the trees, while his comrades were filling the water-casks, and expeditiously obtained a good number, both of limes and cocoa-nuts, which he considered would be an acceptable refreshment to his exhausted companions on board the Diomede.

While they were thus employed, Lord Robert hailed them from the beach, where he remained to watch the boat.

"Come, my lads!" said he, "the gale freshens every minute; let us get afloat, or we shall scarcely reach the ship before nightfall."

The sailors hurried the water-casks and store of fruit into the boat, and launched her among the breakers. With infinite toil, they got out of the surf with safety, as the wind now blew off the sh.o.r.e; but the furious gusts came every moment with increasing strength; and, at last, a surge rose with such overwhelming violence, that, in spite of all their efforts, the boat upset, and her unhappy crew were engulfed in the roaring waters. Their fate was beheld from the ship; but no aid could be given, as the renewed hurricane had rendered her state more deplorable than ever: she was driven before the wind, and soon lost sight of this fatal island.

Some of the boat's crew struggled a little time with the waves; but three of them were old men, and had been exhausted by the fatigues they had lately undergone. These speedily sank; but Lord Robert, being young and robust, strove hard for life, and at length gained the sh.o.r.e, almost exhausted by his contentions with the surfy breakers. When he had a little recovered his breath, he climbed the hill on which the cross was erected, and gazed towards the ship, which he saw driving before the wind, surrounded by foaming billows, and with every appearance of speedily sharing the fate he had so lately escaped. Wholly occupied in the thoughts of the revered friend that ship contained, he forgot his own desolate state, till the last appearance of the ship vanished, and he found himself alone.

Oppressed with sad thoughts, he turned himself from the contemplation of the wrathful ocean, now blackening with the sudden night of the torrid zone, and after a little search, found a low arch in the rock, which was the entrance to a natural hollow in its side. Into this place he crept, to shelter himself from the inclemency of the storm, which increased with tenfold fury after sunset.

In this situation he pa.s.sed the night which succeeded this dismal day.

It was a night of peculiar horror--tempestuous, dark, and rainy; and Lord Robert, though in a state of complete exhaustion, found that, in his late struggle with the breakers, he had received so many bruises, that to sleep was impossible. At intervals, as the lightning gleamed on the stormy expanse of waters before him, he thought how many of his brave companions, in all probability, slept beneath its roaring waves; and at that moment, instead of returning thanks to Heaven for his own preservation, he felt inclined to envy his comrades. To be entirely shut out from all intercourse with his fellow-creatures, never again to hear the sound of a human voice, and to be condemned, in the very bloom of youth, to pine away existence in that desolate place, far from every friend, appeared a doom so dreadful, that he was insensibly led to reflect for what crime so heavy a punishment could have befallen him.

Conscience, which sometimes sleeps, but never dies, did not fail, in this awful hour, to recall to his memory the cruelty and injustice of his conduct to Philip Harley: and when he reflected that, to gratify his imperious disposition and implacable spirit of revenge, the poor lad had been dragged from his peaceful home, his honest employment, and his affectionate parents, to endure a series of hardships and perils, and that he had finally suffered an untimely death,--this thought gave him so keen a pang of remorse, that, as if he expected from change of place to escape from memory, he started from his rocky pillow, and, as the day was now beginning to dawn, proceeded to the beach, to ascertain whether any of his friends from the ship had been so fortunate as to gain the sh.o.r.e; for, he remembered, his uncle had given orders to have the pinnace and yawl in readiness, in case the ship's situation should become desperate, that an attempt might be made to preserve the lives of part of the crew.

For some time, he pursued his melancholy walk, interrupted only by the dismal sight of pieces of wreck, which the impetuous waves from time to time dashed at his feet. The sea now running in high tide on the sh.o.r.e, inspired him with the hope of seeing the pinnace and boats, or rafts from the wreck; and that some, at least, of the ship's company might be so fortunate as to reach the island with life. The sun, rising brightly over the stormy ocean, discovered something struggling with the waves at no great distance. Lord Robert felt the most agonizing sensations at the idea that it was out of his power to render any a.s.sistance. All he could do was to wave his handkerchief, from the little rocky promontory on which he stood, and to shout with all his strength, to encourage him in his efforts. At that moment, a tremendous wave engulfed the object of his solicitude,--it sank, and his heart sank with it;--again it rose and neared the sh.o.r.e;--but its efforts grew fainter and fainter;--and Lord Robert, fearing that its strength would fail, though so near the sh.o.r.e, regardless of his own safety, dashed through the breakers to render his a.s.sistance, cheering as he did so. At the sound of his voice, the poor creature appeared to recover his strength, and, struggling through the breakers, sprang towards him with a joyful cry.

"Ah, my poor Neptune! Is it you?" exclaimed Lord Robert, with mingled anguish and pleasure, as he threw his arms round the faithful animal, and gave vent to his feelings with a burst of tears. "Yes!" said he, as he threw himself on the beach in bitter sorrow, "the Diomede must indeed have foundered, or my kind, my benevolent uncle, would never have committed this old memorial of his lost nephew to the mercy of the waves, for the sake of lightening the vessel, or saving the morsel of food he would have consumed." But again remembering the chance that some of the crew might be saved by the pinnace, and condemning the indulgence of his grief, he rose, and, dripping as he was, pursued his search, attended by his faithful Neptune, who bounded round him with joyful affection. In the course of his walk, he found some limes and cocoa-nuts scattered on the beach; and, yielding to the painful thirst that consumed him, he raised one of the limes to his parched lips, when he recollected that they were some of the fruit young Harley had gathered, and was carrying to the ship at the time the boat was upset, and the unfortunate youth had been buried in the waves. This thought recalled the bitter reflections he had with difficulty succeeded in banishing from his mind; and when he remembered that, though he had not been the immediate, he had certainly been the ultimate cause of his death, he sickened at the thought, and casting the untasted fruit from him, he said, "No; I cannot eat these!" Proceeding on his walk, he gained the spot where he had landed with his unfortunate companions the day before. He sighed deeply as he pa.s.sed it; and, doubling a projection of rock, he discovered the pinnace, floating bottom upwards close in sh.o.r.e.

At that sight, the most agonizing in the world to the heart of a sailor, he turned away, and wept almost to suffocation. For some moments, he continued to give way to the grief which oppressed him, till roused from the indulgence of his feelings by a loud and joyful bark from Neptune, and, uncovering his eyes, he perceived a young sailor, whose face was turned from him, gazing on the pinnace, apparently in as melancholy a mood as himself. This doubtless was the only one of her unfortunate crew who had escaped the violence of the waves; and Lord Robert, losing all distinction of rank in the fellowship of misfortune, sprang towards him with open arms, exclaiming, in a voice broken by emotion--"What cheer, my lad?" At the sound of his voice, the young man turned slowly round, and discovered a face pale with contending feelings--it was Philip Harley! For a moment, the two enemies surveyed each other in silence; each wondering at the other's preservation; each somewhat softened by the traces of sorrow and suffering in the countenance of the other,--but, alas! each mutually yielding to the same stubborn and haughty temper which had so long been the spring of all that was evil in their separate characters, they surveyed each other with a look of defiance, and walked gloomily away in opposite directions.

Lord Robert certainly did feel his heart relieved of half the painful emotions which had, for the last ten hours, oppressed it almost to bursting; and as he retraced his steps almost instinctively to his cheerless chamber in the rock, where he had spent that dreadful night, he exclaimed, "Thank G.o.d, he lives! I am not then his murderer! It is true, that entire solitude would have been much more agreeable to me, than the idea of breathing the same air with him, and being constantly exposed to the chance of meeting him; but that is more than compensated by the knowledge that he lives, and is, indeed, no worse off than myself."

Thus did Lord Robert compose his troubled thoughts, and lull to sleep those better feelings which almost prompted him, at the first sight of young Harley, to make such advances towards amity, as would have been pleasing in the sight of G.o.d, and even in that of his enemy, whose heart, naturally kind and good, had been greatly softened by the awful circ.u.mstances under which their last interview had taken place. Besides, he had been an unseen spectator of Lord Robert's manly but acute sorrow, when he beheld, in the deplorable situation of the pinnace, a confirmation of his worst fears respecting the fate of his uncle and friends. He, too, had been weeping; for he reverenced Sir Henry Stanley, and loved Lieutenant Cary; and he was disposed to behold even Lord Robert with complacency, for their sakes; for he knew he was very dear to them both; and when he saw the agony with which Lord Robert staggered forward, on reaching the spot which commanded this melancholy sight, and heard his repeated sobs, he felt his hatred towards him so much diminished, that he was forced to recollect all the injuries he had received from this young officer, before he could sufficiently repel the inclination he felt to speak to him in the voice of kindness and comfort. Lord Robert had hitherto appeared to him haughty, rude, and unfeeling; and Philip knew not that this spoiled child of prosperity possessed at times much sensibility, strong affections, and feelings, which, had they been properly directed, would have been conducive to the happiness of all around him; instead of which, his unchecked pa.s.sions produced danger and inconvenience to all who, even unintentionally, irritated them, and misery to their unhappy possessor, far beyond what he had ever inflicted on others.

But Philip was in many respects too like his adversary in character; and he never took the trouble of asking his own heart, if he were not sometimes to blame, as well as his high-born enemy. If Lord Robert was haughty, Philip was insolent; if one was hasty in giving a provocation, the other was still more so in retaliating. Had Philip for one moment remembered that most divine maxim of holy writ, "A soft answer turneth away wrath," and had he been sufficiently of a Christian disposition to practise it in _one_ instance only, Lord Robert would have been appeased; and what mischief might have been spared, what suffering avoided, on one side! and what painful remorse on the other! When Philip beheld Lord Robert's tears, his first emotion was surprise; and he said to himself, "Can he weep? _he_ that is so hard-hearted and proud!" and then the thought occurred to him, "Perhaps his heart is not so very hard as I have reason to believe?" Philip was not uncandid; and he remembered then, that he had often thrown himself in Lord Robert's way, and committed many outrages, on purpose to provoke him. For the first time in his life, he put himself in his Lordship's place, and asked his own heart, whether he were sure, under such circ.u.mstances, that he should have acted better? But Philip was not yet sufficiently acquainted with the faults of his own character, to see that he had been almost equally blameable; and though, perhaps, he would not have refused to forgive, he had no idea that _he too_ required to be forgiven, if not by his erring fellow-creature, at least by his heavenly Father. Had _this_ occurred to him, he would not have renewed their suspended enmity, by being the first to a.s.sume a look of defiance, while Lord Robert was undecided what course to pursue: but the favourable moment was unfortunately lost; for Lord Robert returned the glance with equal disdain, and they were as much at variance as before.

Lord Robert had returned to the cleft in the rock, and thrown himself at full length, lost in unpleasant and bitter reflections for some hours, before the cravings of hunger reminded him that it was necessary to make some exertion for the preservation of that life which Heaven had spared; but perhaps he would, in his gloomy frame of mind, have disregarded his own wants, and remained obstinate in his self-neglect, had not the mute appeals of his faithful Neptune roused him from inertion. Neptune was a fine water-dog, a present from his elder brother at parting; and Lord Robert, who had long desired to possess this animal, treated him with the most unbounded affection; and always suffered him to share every meal with him, and even divided with him his share of food and water during their late dreadful privations; and Neptune, who had not tasted food for many hours, continued to put his paws on his master's knees, and to survey him with a wishful look, till Lord Robert rose, and left the cave in search of something to satisfy his cravings. Amongst his other troubles, he had little fear of perishing by famine; for he knew, by the lat.i.tude he was in, that he should most likely find turtle, or turtles' eggs, on the beach. In fact, while he was listlessly pacing the sh.o.r.e, thinking of anything rather than the object of his search, Neptune, who was not quite so uninterested, pounced on something in a hole in the sand, which proved to be a fine turtle. His master soon killed it, and satisfied the hunger of his humble friend with part of the flesh; and then, in a more leisurely manner, set about collecting pieces of wreck to make a fire; but, alas! he was wholly unpractised in the sleight of striking a few sparks to kindle a flame. It is true, he knew how they were to be procured, and soon found a flint proper for the purpose: but in striking it with the back of his knife, he only rubbed the skin off his hands, and bruised his knuckles, without producing the desired effect; or, if he did elicit a few sparks, they died away for want of proper kindling. This put him in a pa.s.sion, and he redoubled his violence till he broke the flint into a thousand pieces; and sat down in a very ill humour, looking at his pile of wood and his raw turtle with much discontent. At last he recollected, that if he could not cook his turtle, he could quench his thirst at the clear spring they had discovered on their first landing: this he soon found, and was much refreshed by a draught from it. At a small distance, within view of the spring, he saw the little grove of limes and cocoas in the valley; there he beheld, with some little envy, a bright blazing fire, near which Philip was employed cooking his supper. He hastily avoided the spot, and returned to the beach, where he found in the sand some turtles' eggs, which he could eat raw, and with them satisfied the calls of hunger. He then lay down on his flinty couch, with Neptune for a pillow; and, being completely exhausted by fatigue, notwithstanding his distress and discontent, sank into a profound sleep.

The next morning saw him still perplexed with those minor difficulties.

For though he could bear, with heroic self-denial, the hardships incidental to his profession, and had not taken a morsel more food, or a drop more water, in their late distress on board ship, than any other of the suffering crew, and had even shared his scanty morsel with his famishing dog, this he _could_ do, for he felt there was something n.o.ble and refined in such conduct; but he felt sadly irritated at being thrown on his own resources in the little common everyday necessaries of life.

From his infancy, he had been surrounded by servants, who were accustomed to perform for him the most minute services, so that at seventeen his Lordship (though a valiant officer, and perfect in his professional duties,) was ignorant of many things very necessary for every one to know; and if he was acquainted with the methods resorted to in many situations, he was at least very awkward in his attempts of putting them into practice. However, on this occasion, making use of his own good sense, after a little calm reflection, he collected from the sides of the rock some dry grey moss, and, drawing some rays from the sun in the focus of a little perspective gla.s.s he had in his pocket, he soon set his pile of wood in a blaze, and cooked sufficient turtle to feed him for a day or two.

He had scarcely completed this employment, when the sun, which had for days been shaded by tempestuous clouds, broke forth with its usual splendour; and there was promise of a continuance of that sultry weather so seldom interrupted in these lat.i.tudes. Lord Robert, when he felt the sun beat on his uncovered temples, fled for shelter to his cave, which he found nearly of the same temperature as an oven half heated. Panting for breath, he remembered the grove, of which Philip had taken possession, and bent his steps towards it; but he found that this spot of verdure did not consist of more than a rood of land; and he did not choose to be so near young Harley as the farthest extremity of its shelter. So he remained on the burning beach, or under the shade of some arid rock, during the day, determining to make a tour of the island in the cool of the evening, and hoping to fix his residence in some shady vale similar to Philip's territories. But how can his disappointment be expressed, when, after a most fatiguing walk, all the good he gained was a knowledge of the extent of his prison? He had in vain searched for a grove; barren rocks and burning sands alone met his sight: at last, he climbed a conical hill, which towered above the other rocks, and which, from his geological knowledge, he was certain contained the exhausted crater of a volcano. Here he had a view of every nook of the island, which was of the extent of about five miles, and presented a prospect of one pile of horrid rocks heaped on another, without one spot of fertility, except Philip's little cl.u.s.ter of trees, whose bright verdure formed a refreshing contrast to the burning rocks, which seemed yet to glow with the intense heat that had been poured on them through the day. As he fixed his eyes wistfully on this favoured spot, and saw the smoke of Philip's evening fire curling above the trees, he exclaimed, "Yes; I must, though most reluctantly, share this only habitable place with him; for such a day as the last I cannot endure again. Doubtless, this grove was planted by some benevolent navigator (such as I have often read of) on the soil formed by the accidental residence of sea-birds; and the gra.s.s and trees[4] have gradually spread over a small extent of land. Surely, as it was meant for universal benefit, I have a right to a share of it." So saying, he descended the hill, and after a toilsome walk arrived at the grove after nightfall, where he enjoyed the luxury of stretching his aching limbs on the soft gra.s.s, under the fragrant shade of a lime-tree, and slept soundly till after sunrise. He awoke in the morning with the cheerful sound of a human voice singing, and on opening his eyes, saw Philip Harley, a few paces from him, busy at work. He was astonished to see the progress his enemy had made in forming himself a habitation; for he had got very forward in the frame-work of a neat hut, and was now boarding it in with planks, which he had collected on the beach, singing as he knocked in every nail. This hut was situated among the thickest cl.u.s.ter of trees, directly under a fine young vine, the only one in the island; and as Philip roofed his hut, he carefully trained the rich branches all over the dwelling, taking care not to injure the purpling fruit, which was nearly ripe; thus giving his hut, as soon as it was finished, the charming appearance of a bower.

[Footnote 4: The progress of vegetation is very curious in those islands, which are supposed by geologists to be thrown up from the bottom of the sea by volcanoes, or formed by the unceasing labours of the coral animalculi. These generally present at first a rocky surface, barren and arid. By degrees, a little soil is deposited by sea-fowl and birds of pa.s.sage; on this at first grow the seeds of some of those minute plants, which are literally carried on the wings of the wind from countries that appear too far distant for any such conveyance. These plants flourish, fade, and are renewed by the seasons, until from their decayed parts is formed that fine vegetable mould which overspreads the more fertile surface of the earth. When this process is begun, if the land receives from the hand of some benevolent discoverer a few seeds of trees or plants to which the climate is congenial, the work of fertilization is rapidly accelerated; gra.s.s grows luxuriantly under the shade of the trees: verdure increases, and creeps farther and farther, till from one little spot, an oasis in the midst of a desert, the whole island becomes fruitful.]

Overcome by the heat of the climate, Lord Robert lay for a day or two wholly inactive, stretched beneath his lime-tree, amusing himself with playing with Neptune, or when he thought he was unperceived, watching the progress of his enemy's work, but not condescending to address one word to him; who, on his part, preserved the same sullen silence. Lord Robert could not help wondering how Harley came by the saw and hatchet which he handled with so much adroitness; but he would not condescend to ask him. The fact was, that when Philip and the sailors were called away from gathering the cocoas, Philip, in his hurry had left the saw and hatchet at the foot of the tree; and there he found them when he regained the land. Possessed of these treasures, he made himself a hammer of a hollow stone; and, drawing nails out of the wreck, he set to work, and soon completed his hut. But when he proceeded to make a stool and table, Lord Robert was moved to some exertion; for he thought, that if he could make himself something of the kind to place under his lime-tree, he should not regret the hut his adversary seemed so proud of; and he was determined to try to construct some such articles of comfort and convenience. He accordingly went to the beach, and soon collected timber, from which he selected pieces with which he meant to try to form a table and three-legged stool. He would willingly have worked on the beach, out of the impertinent ken of his enemy: but the intolerable heat soon drove him back to the delicious shade of the grove, where a perpetual breeze seemed to play amongst the leaves; and thither he reluctantly proceeded, carrying the wood, and followed by Neptune. Sorry I am to record, that when Philip saw his haughty enemy appear thus laden, he paused in his work with a malicious curiosity to see how Lord Robert would acquit himself in his new employment. The first thing he did was to tear a bough or two off a tree, meaning to cut three truncheons to form the legs of his stool. It was lignum vitae wood, extremely hard; and Lord Robert eyed Philip's saw, which just then would have been of great service to him, but he disdained to ask the loan of it. So he seated himself on the turf, and began to cut the legs with his pocket-knife (his only tool) with great difficulty; then he chose from the fragments of wreck a small piece of square wood, and marked with his pencil the holes he designed to make; he then walked, in a very stately manner, to Philip's fire, and taking from thence three hot coals, he laid them on his pencilled marks, and kept renewing them till the wood was nearly burnt through; then he sc.r.a.ped through the burnt wood, till he had got three holes; into these he knocked his truncheons with a great stone, and placed his stool on the ground to admire his own ingenuity; but he had knocked one leg more and another less, so that their lengths were unequal, and down the stool fell. Philip, who had seen this defect all the time, was highly diverted at his disappointment, when the stool fell, particularly when he saw how it irritated Lord Robert's impatient temper. At last, overcoming his inclination to laugh, he said: "You must shorten the middle leg of your stool, or it will never stand;" at the same time pushing his rule and saw towards his Lordship, who rejected them with great disdain, saying--"Do you think that I can condescend to learn the low mechanic art of a _carpenter_?" And he laid a most contemptuous stress on the word _carpenter_.

Philip coloured with indignation, as he replied, "Perhaps your _Lordship_ will in a little time see which is of most service in this place, _your_ t.i.tle, or _my_ useful knowledge."

Lord Robert haughtily flung back the rule and saw, and began to shorten the leg with his knife. This was a work of time and difficulty: the wood was hard, and the knife unfit for the purpose, and, worse than all, Lord Robert was very awkward in his mechanical attempts; but he was unusually so in this, for he was in a pet, and he saw that Philip watched him and enjoyed his unskilful manoeuvres. This had the effect of enraging and confusing him; and, in his anger, the knife slipped and cut his knuckles across. He glanced at Philip, and saw him smile. This greatly provoked him, and he darted towards his enemy a furious look; but Philip continued to survey his operations with a calm but sarcastic regard. The next thing Lord Robert did was to set his knife so fast in the wood that he could not move it. Philip smiled again; and Lord Robert, out of all patience, used so violent an effort to get it free, that the blade snapped in the middle, and, starting up in a pa.s.sion, he dashed the stool violently against the ground. Philip laughed aloud.

"Insolent plebeian!" exclaimed Lord Robert; "do you presume to insult me?"

"Lord Robert Summers," replied Philip, "I would advise you to remember, that you are neither in your father's park, nor on the deck of the Diomede, where your imperious temper might be feared and indulged: but here we are equals; and any outrage, either of words or actions, shall meet with instant chastis.e.m.e.nt. I would therefore advise your Lordship to be more guarded in your language, for it may be followed by consequences which you may not approve!"

"Villain!" retorted Lord Robert, "do you forget that I am your commanding officer?"

"No!" returned Philip, becoming greatly agitated as certain recollections crossed his mind; "no:--you have put it out of my power ever to forget that you were once enabled to gratify your ungenerous malice to the utmost stretch of your power. Basely and cruelly did you trample on me, when you knew that to resist the authority you abused was impossible. I _was_ your victim, but am so no longer! And," continued he, advancing very close to Lord Robert, "beware how you provoke me to take such signal vengeance for all the injuries you have inflicted on me, as shall teach your proud heart to rue the hour that ever you made Philip Harley the companion of your voyage!"

There was an expression so terrible in Philip's eyes as he spoke these words, that Lord Robert, stout-hearted as he was, (and there never was a braver officer,) changed colour; but in a moment recovering his intrepid spirit and haughty bearing, he flashed back a look of defiance, and a.s.sumed a posture of defence.

"It is unnecessary," said Philip; "I am not going to attack you. You have in many contests proved the strength of this arm: that it always was superior to yours, I scarcely need remind you. That your late injuries have not unnerved it, you may well believe; but, as long as you observe a temperate line of conduct, and discontinue addressing me by opprobrious names, you need not fear its force."

"Fear!" repeated Lord Robert indignantly: "I fear G.o.d; and have no other fear! Dost thou imagine that I fear aught like thee?"

"Perhaps not," replied Philip; "but I would advise you not to provoke me unnecessarily."

So saying, he retired within his hut, leaving Lord Robert speechless with contending emotions. He was indeed much ruffled by the short but fierce altercation which had pa.s.sed between himself and young Harley; and the more so, when he reflected that Philip's bodily strength was superior to his own, and that his high rank would be of no avail to him in this desolate place, as Philip had very unceremoniously told him: and as his own conscience whispered that he had formerly offered him the most dreadful provocation, he could scarcely be astonished if Philip, now that he was the more powerful, should meditate retaliation, and take, as he threatened, unbounded vengeance for all that he had suffered on board the Diomede and elsewhere.

He was reluctant to abandon this sheltered and beautiful spot; but he preferred returning to his dreary cleft in the rock, to residing in the valley, where Philip had erected his dwelling; considering the heat and barrenness of the rest of the island as far less evils than the company of Philip, whose very sight, after the threats he had used, was most intolerable to him: and Lord Robert felt that he could not bend his haughty spirit to practise the civility and moderation which Philip had recommended, lest this behaviour should be construed into fear of his superior force. On the other hand, he reflected that if he persisted in his natural imperiousness, so far as to provoke Philip to a personal contest with him, the languor incidental to the climate had so much enervated him, that, to maintain a combat with such an adversary as young Harley had often proved himself to be, with the slightest prospect of success, was impossible, and would only expose him to insult and contempt, and perhaps even to more disgraceful treatment, from his justly incensed enemy. To avoid such consequences, he judged it most suitable to his dignity to retire; and, whistling to Neptune to follow him, he slowly and sullenly returned to the beach, leaving Philip in uninterrupted possession of the Valley of Limes.

Though Philip, still smarting under the remembrance of the many injuries he had received from Lord Robert, had, on the haughty expressions of contempt uttered by that young officer, used threats which were most irritating to his proud spirit, he by no means designed to proceed to personal hostilities; for Philip was, in spite of all his faults, too really generous to exert in this instance the advantages his superior strength gave him; and he was far from intending to drive his companion in misfortune from the only spot in the island capable of affording him any of the comforts of life. In short, he expected that when Lord Robert had vented his displeasure in a solitary walk, he would return to the valley. When Philip's temper cooled, he began to reflect on the luxuries Lord Robert had been accustomed to from his cradle; he thought how severely his high-born adversary must feel the privations to which he was now exposed; and his heart smote him for having, by his provoking ridicule, occasioned that ebullition of feeling which had vented itself in expressions of wrathful contempt, which he, on his part, (not considering the provocation was of his own giving,) had been so ready to return; and that their mutual recriminations had induced him to utter menaces, which had driven his companion in misfortune from an employment necessary even for the preservation of his existence.

Occupied by these thoughts, Philip often paused in his work, and looked round to see if Lord Robert had returned to the valley, and listened for his step with anxiety; but he did not come. Night arrived, and Philip did not see him reposing under his favourite lime-tree; and he felt out of humour with himself, for being the cause of keeping him away.

From some uneasy self-reproaches, he did not taste at night the calm repose which generally follows a day of labour; on the contrary, he felt that evening some of those painful feelings of remorse which had so often tortured Lord Robert, but which had never been experienced by himself before; and he now remembered that, though Lord Robert had ill-treated him, yet there _was_ a difference in their rank, and that it was brutal in him to threaten a high-spirited and elegant young man with personal violence when they were united in the same distress: and that Lord Robert's contemptuous expressions were caused by his laughter at that which was a serious misfortune to his high-born foe; namely, his want of skill in mechanics, and the mischance of breaking his knife, the loss of which was irreparable, and would perhaps deprive him, on some occasions, even of the means of procuring food.

Philip would have repaired to the beach, to see what had become of Lord Robert; but he thought it probable that some new cause of offence might arise between them. However, in the afternoon, he had occasion to visit the beach to search for some pieces of wreck. When he reached the sh.o.r.e, he found there had been a very high tide the preceding night, and many articles were scattered on the sand; as staves, pieces of rope, and splinters from the mast. These Philip carefully collected, and placed above high-water mark, lest they should be washed to sea again. In the course of this important avocation, he approached the cave where Lord Robert had again taken up his residence: but he had been too busily engaged to think of him, till his eye was attracted by the flash of his epaulet in the evening sun; and he saw him, at a little distance, bending over some employment, in which he was too much occupied to perceive the approach of Philip, who was tempted to draw near enough to ascertain what it was that so deeply engaged his attention; but he did so somewhat cautiously, lest he should again give offence. He soon was near enough to discover that Lord Robert's employment was that of digging a grave in the sand, with a b.u.t.t-stave, and near him lay the bodies of five seamen, which the high tide had washed on sh.o.r.e, close to the entrance of Lord Robert's cave. Philip felt a bitter pang as he gazed on the lifeless remains of his unfortunate messmates; and seizing another stave, he placed himself opposite to Lord Robert, and began to a.s.sist in the sad duty; but neither spoke.

One of the bodies was that of a midshipman, whom Lord Robert had loved; and as he now proceeded to place his remains in the narrow bed he had scooped for him with so much toil, his tears fell fast on the face of the deceased. When he attempted to raise him from the shingle, to lay him decently in the grave, the effort was too much for him. Philip immediately sprang forwards and a.s.sisted him, otherwise the corpse would have fallen from his grasp. He did not reject the aid of his foe; but he did not even glance at him in return. In silence they began their melancholy task; in silence they proceeded in it; and the moon had risen high and shone with splendour by the time they had dug the last grave, when unfortunately, as they placed the seaman in the "house appointed for all living," Philip recognised his features: it was the boatswain of the Diomede! A crowd of agonizing feelings pa.s.sed through Philip's breast, as he recollected that from this man's hand he had received such disgraceful punishment. He first turned pale, and then scarlet; and it recurred to his mind, that this person had only been the pa.s.sive instrument obeying the orders of others.

"It was thy malice, tyrant! that added this worst wrong to all the rest," thought he. True, he did not utter these words: but he regarded Lord Robert with a look, in which hatred and rage were but too visibly painted to escape his Lordship's observation, though he was ignorant of the cause of it; but he thought it shocking of Philip to take the opportunity of insulting him at such an awful time, particularly when he had condescended to _permit_ his a.s.sistance; and he returned Philip's indignant look in so disdainful a manner, that, scarcely conscious that he was the first himself to renew hostilities, Philip took fire, and provokingly reminded his Lordship "that his haughty looks were useless, when directed to him; and he advised him to reserve them for those who cared for them, if he could find any such in the island."

"To the full as many as will endure your low-bred insolence," returned Lord Robert with equal scorn. "However, Mr. Harley, if I might condescend to speak to you in the language of entreaty, it would be to request the favour of your absence. You have taken possession of the only habitable spot in the island, and _I_ have not attempted to deprive you of it; and I think the least you can do, in return for my moderation, is to leave me undisturbed on my barren domain."

"If all my security were the _moderation_ of Lord Robert Summers,"

replied Philip with a contemptuous laugh, "I should be as soon driven from my dwelling here as I was forced from the home of my parents: but here I can, by the strength of my own right hand, maintain my rights; and whoever attempts to invade them, may chance to repent of his folly."

As Philip uttered this threat, he finished casting the last heap of sand on the boatswain's grave; on which, apparently exhausted with fatigue, Lord Robert had seated himself. The sight of these bodies had recalled the fate of his uncle, and he had been lately weeping bitterly; and when young Harley observed his tearful eyes, and the evident languor and despondency visible in his whole appearance, his conscience again smote him; he remembered what he had so lately suffered from self-reproach; and he reflected, that if he so much abused the mere bodily superiority his strength gave him, it was by no means wonderful that when Lord Robert possessed so much power, he should exert it when offended.