Chapter XLIII
In which Smallbones changes from a king's man into a smuggler, and also changes his sex
If we adhered to the usual plans of historical novel writers, we should, in this instance, leave Smallbones to what must appear to have been his inevitable fate, and then bring him on the stage again with a coup de théâtre, when least expected by the reader. But that is not our intention; we consider that the interest of this our narration of bygone events is quite sufficient, without condescending to what is called claptrap; and there are so many people in our narrative continually labouring under deception of one kind or another, that we need not add to it by attempting to mystify our readers; who, on the contrary, we shall take with us familiarly by the hand, and, like a faithful historian, lead them through the events in the order in which they occurred, and point out to them how they all lead to one common end. With this intention in view, we shall now follow the fortunes of Smallbones, whom we left floundering in about seven fathoms water.
The weather was warm, even sultry, as we said before; but notwithstanding which, and notwithstanding he was a very tolerable swimmer, considering that he was so thin, Smallbones did not like it. To be awoke out of a profound sleep, and all of a sudden to find yourself floundering out of your depth about half a mile from the nearest land, is anything but agreeable; the transition is too rapid. Smallbones descended a few feet before he could divest himself of the folds of the Flustering coat which he had wrapped himself up in. It belonged to Coble, he had purchased it at a sale-shop on the Point for seventeen shillings and sixpence, and, moreover, it was as good as new. In consequence of this delay below water-mark, Smallbones had very little breath left in his body when he rose to the surface, and he could not inflate his lungs so as to call loud until the cutter had walked away from him at least one hundred yards, for she was slipping fast through the water, and another minute plainly proved to Smallbones that he was left to his own resources.
At first, the lad had imagined that it was an accident, and that the rope had given way with his weight; but when he found that no attention was paid to his cries, he then was convinced that it was the work of Mr Vanslyperken.
"By gum, he's a done for me at last. Well, I don't care, I can die but once, that's sartin sure; and he'll go to the devil, that's sartin sure."
And Smallbones, with this comfortable assurance, continued to strike out for the land, which, indeed, he had but little prospect of ever making.
"A shame for to come for to go to murder a poor lad three or four times over," sputtered Smallbones, after a time, feeling his strength fail him. He then turned on his back, to ease his arms.
"I can't do it no how, I sees that," said Smallbones, "so I may just as well go down like a dipsey lead."
But, as he muttered this, and was making up his mind to discontinue further exertions,–not a very easy thing to do, when you are about to go into another world, still floating on his back, with his eyes fixed on the starry heavens, thinking, as Smallbones afterwards narrated himself, that there wa'n't much to live for in this here world, and considering what there could be in that 'ere, his head struck against something hard. Smallbones immediately turned round in the water to see what it was, and found that it was one of the large corks which supported a heavy net laid out across the tide for the taking of shoal-fish. The cork was barely sufficient to support his weight, but it gave him a certain relief, and time to look about him, as the saying is. The lad ran under the net and cork with his hands until he arrived at the nearest shoal, for it was three or four hundred yards long. When he arrived there, he contrived to bring some of the corks together, until he had quite sufficient for his support, and then Smallbones voted himself pretty comfortable after all, for the water was very warm, and now quite smooth.
Smallbones, as the reader may have observed during the narration, was a lad of most indisputable courage and of good principles. Had it been his fortune to have been born among the higher classes, and to have had all the advantages of education, he might have turned out a hero; as it was, he did his duty well in that state of life to which he had been called, and as he said in his speech to the men on the forecastle, he feared God, honoured the king, and was the natural enemy to the devil.
The Chevalier Bayard was nothing more, only he had a wider field for his exertions and his talents; but the armed and accoutred Bayard did not show more courage and conduct when leading armies to victory, than did the unarmed Smallbones against Vanslyperken and his dog. We consider that in his way, Smallbones was quite as great a hero as the Chevalier, for no man can do more than his best; indeed, it is unreasonable to expect it.
While Smallbones hung on to the corks, he was calculating his chances of being saved.
"If so be as how they comes to take up the nets in the morning, why then I think I may hold on; but if so be they waits, why they'll then find me dead as a fish," said Smallbones, who seldom ventured above a monosyllable, and whose language if not considered as pure English, was certainly amazingly Saxon; and then Smallbones began to reflect, whether it was not necessary that he should forgive Mr Vanslyperken before he died, and his pros and cons ended with his thinking he could, for it was his duty; however he would not be in a hurry about it, he thought that was the last thing that he need do; but as for the dog, he wa'n't obliged to forgive him that was certain–as certain as that his tail was off; and Smallbones, up to his chin in the water, grinned so at the remembrance, that he took in more salt water than was pleasant.
He spit it out again, and then looked up to the stars, which were twinkling above him.
I wonder what o'clock it is, thought Smallbones, when he thought he heard a distant sound. Smallbones pricked up his ears and listened;–yes, it was in regular cadence, and became louder and louder. It was a boat pulling.
"Well, I am sure," thought Smallbones, "they'll think they have caught a queer fish anyhow:" and he waited very patiently for the fisherman to come up. At last he perceived the boat, which was very long and pulled many oars. "They be the smuglars," thought Smallbones.
"I wonder whether they'll pick up a poor lad? Boat ahoy!"
The boat continued to pass towards the coast, impelled at the speed of seven or eight miles an hour, and was now nearly abreast of Smallbones, and not fifty yards from him.
"I say, boat ahoy!" screamed Smallbones, to the extent of his voice.
He was heard this time, and there was a pause in the pulling, the boat still driving through the water with the impulse which had been given her, as if she required no propelling power.
"I say you arn't a going for to come for to leave a poor lad here to be drowned, are you?"
"That's Smallbones, I'll swear," cried Jemmy Ducks, who was steering the boat, and who immediately shifted the helm.
But Sir Robert Barclay paused; there was too much at stake to run any risk, even to save the life of a fellow-creature.
"You takes time for to think on it anyhow," cried Smallbones–"you are going for to leave a fellow-christian stuck like a herring in a fishing net, are you? you would not like it yourself, anyhow."
"It is Smallbones, sir," repeated Jemmy Ducks, "and I'll vouch for him as a lad that's good and true."
Sir Barclay no longer hesitated: "Give way, my lads, and pick him up."
In a few minutes, Smallbones was hauled in over the gunnel, and was seated on the stern-sheets opposite to Sir Robert.
"It's a great deal colder out of the water than in, that's sartain," observed Smallbones, shivering.
"Give way, my lads, we've no time to stay," cried Sir Robert.
"Take this, Smallbones," said Jemmy.
"Why, so it is, Jemmy Ducks!" replied Smallbones, with astonishment–"why, how did you come here?"
"Sarcumstances," replied Jemmy; "how did you come there?"
"Sarcumstances too, Jemmy," replied Smallbones.
"Keep silence," said Sir Robert, and nothing more was said until the lugger dashed into the cave.
The cargo was landed, and Smallbones who was very cold was not sorry to assist. He carried up his load with the rest, and as usual the women came half-way down to receive it.
"Why, who have we here?" said one of the women to whom Smallbones was delivering his load, "why, it's Smallbones."
"Yes," replied Smallbones, it is me; "but how came you here, Nancy?"
"That's tellings, but how came you, my lad?" replied Nancy.
"I came by water anyhow."
"Well, you are one of us now, you know there's no going back."
"I'm sure I don't want to go back, Nancy; but what is to be done? nothing unchristianlike I hope."
"We're all good Christians here, Smallbones; we don't bow down to idols and pay duty to them as other people do."
"Do you fear God, and honour the king?"
"We do; the first as much as the other people, and as for the king, we love him and serve him faithfully."
"Well, then I suppose that's all right," replied Smallbones; "but where do you live?"
"Come with me, take your load up, and I will show you, for the sooner you are there the better; the boat will be off again in half-an-hour, if I mistake not."
"Off, where?"
"To France, with a message to the king."
"Why, the king's in Holland! we left him there when we sailed."
"Pooh! nonsense! come along."
When Sir Robert arrived at the cave, he found an old friend anxiously awaiting his arrival; it was Graham, who had been despatched by the Jacobites to the court of St Germains, with intelligence of great importance, which was the death of the young Duke of Gloucester, the only surviving son of King William. He had, it was said, died of a malignant fever; but if the reader will call to mind the address of one of the Jesuits on the meeting at Cherbourg, he may have some surmises as to the cause of the duke's decease. As this event rendered the succession uncertain, the hopes of the Jacobites were raised to the highest pitch: the more so as the country was in a state of anxiety and confusion, and King William was absent at the Hague. Graham had, therefore, been despatched to the exiled James, with the propositions from his friends in England, and to press the necessity of an invasion of the country. As Nancy had supposed, Sir Robert decided upon immediately crossing over to Cherbourg, the crew were allowed a short time to repose and refresh themselves, and once more returned to their laborious employment; Jemmy Ducks satisfied Sir Robert that Smallbones might be trusted and be useful, and Nancy corroborated his assertions. He was, therefore, allowed to remain in the cave with the women, and Sir Robert and his crew, long before Smallbones' garments were dry, were again crossing the English Channel.
Now, it must be observed, that Smallbones was never well off for clothes, and, on this occasion, when he fell overboard, he had nothing on but an old pair of thin linen trousers and a shirt which, from dint of long washing, from check had turned to a light cerulean blue: what with his struggles at the net and the force used to pull him into the boat, the shirt had more than one-half disappeared–that is to say, one sleeve and the back were wholly gone, and the other sleeve was well prepared to follow its fellow, on the first capful of wind. His trousers also were in almost as bad a state. In hauling him in, when his head was over the gunnel, one of the men had seized him by the seat of his trousers to lift him into the boat, and the consequence was, that the seat of his trousers having been too long set upon, was also left in his muscular gripe. All these items put together, the reader may infer, that, although Smallbones might appear merely ragged in front, that in his rear he could not be considered as decent, especially as he was the only one of the masculine sex among a body of females. No notice was taken of this by others, nor did Smallbones observe it himself, during the confusion and bustle previous to the departure of the smugglers; but now they were gone, Smallbones perceived his deficiencies, and was very much at a loss what to do, as he was aware that daylight would discover them to others as well as to himself: so he fixed his back up against one of the rocks, and remained idle while the women were busily employed storing away the cargo in the various compartments of the cave.
Nancy, who had not forgotten that he was with them, came up to him.
"Why do you stay there, Smallbones? you must be hungry and cold, come in with me, and I will find you something to eat."
"I can't, Mistress Nancy, I want your advice first. Has any of the men left any of their duds in this here cavern?"
"Duds, men! No, they keep them all on the other side. We have nothing but petticoats here and shimmeys."
"Then what must I do?" exclaimed Smallbones.
"Oh, I see, your shirt is torn off your back. Well, never mind, I'll lend you a shimmey."
"Yes, Mistress Nancy, but it be more worse than that, I an't got no behind to my trousers, they pulled it out when they pulled me into the boat. I sticks to this here rock for decency's sake. What must I do?"
Nancy burst into a laugh. "Do, why if you can't have men's clothes, you must put on the women's, and then you'll be in the regular uniform of the cave."
"I do suppose that I must, but I can't say that I like the idea much, anyhow," replied Smallbones.
"Why, you don't mean to stick to that rock like a limpit all your life, do you? there's plenty of work for you."
"If so be, I must, I must," replied Smallbones.
"You can't appear before Mistress Alice in that state," replied Nancy. "She's a lady bred and born, and very particular too, and then there's Miss Lilly, you will turn her as red as a rose, if she sees you."
"Well then, I suppose I must, Mistress Nancy, for I shall catch my death of cold here, I'm all wet and shivery, from being so long in the water, and my back against the rock, feels just as ice."
"No wonder, I'll run and fetch you something," replied Nancy, who was delighted at the idea of dressing up Smallbones as a woman.
Nancy soon returned with a chemise, a short flannel petticoat, and a shawl, which she gave to Smallbones, desiring him to take off his wet clothes, and substitute them. She would return to him as soon as he had put them on, and see that they were put tidy and right.
Smallbones retired behind one of the rocks, and soon shifted his clothes, he put everything on the hind part before, and Nancy had to alter them when she came. She adjusted the shawl, and then led him into the cave where he found Mistress Alice, and some of the women who were not busy with the cargo.
"Here's the poor lad who was thrown overboard, madam," said Nancy, retaining her gravity. "All his clothes were torn off his back, and I have been obliged to give him these to put on."
Lady Barclay could hardly repress a smile. Smallbones' appearance was that of a tall gaunt creature, pale enough, and smooth enough to be a woman certainly, but cutting a most ridiculous figure. His long thin arms were bare, his neck was like a crane's, and the petticoats were so short as to reach almost above his knees. Shoes and stockings he had none. His long hair was platted and matted with the salt water, and one side of his head was shaved, and exhibited a monstrous half-healed scar.
Lady Barclay asked him a few questions, and then desired Nancy to give him some refreshment, and find him something to lie down upon in the division of the cave which was used as a kitchen.
But we must now leave Smallbones to entertain the inhabitants of the cave with the history of his adventures, which he did at intervals, during his stay there. He retained his women's clothes, for Nancy would not let him wear any other, and was a source of great amusement not only to the smugglers' wives, but also to little Lilly, who would listen to his conversation and remarks which were almost as naive and unsophisticated as her own.
Chapter XLIV
In which Mr Vanslyperken meets with a double defeat
It was late in the evening of the day after Smallbones had been so satisfactorily disposed of that the cutter arrived at Portsmouth; but from daylight until the time that the cutter anchored, there was no small confusion and bustle on board of the Yungfrau. When Vanslyperken's cabin door was found to be locked, it was determined that Smallbones should not appear as a supernatural visitant that night, but wait till the one following; consequently the parties retired to bed, and Smallbones, who found the heat between decks very oppressive, had crept up the ladder and taken a berth in the small boat that he might sleep cool and comfortable, intending to be down below again long before Mr Vanslyperken was up; but, as the reader knows, Mr Vanslyperken was up before him, and the consequence was that Smallbones went down into the sea instead of the lower deck as he had intended.
The next morning it was soon ascertained that Smallbones was not to be found, and the ship's company were in a state of dismay. The boat, as soon as Smallbones had been turned out, had resumed her upright position, and one of the men when busy washing the decks, had made fast the gripe again, which he supposed had been cast off by accident when the ropes had been coiled up for washing, Smallbones not being at that time missed. When, therefore, the decks had been searched everywhere and the lad was discovered not to be in the ship, the suspicion was very great. No one had seen him go aft to sleep in the boat. The man who was at the wheel stated that Mr Vanslyperken had sent him down for a glass of grog, and had taken the helm for the time; but this proved nothing. His disappearance was a mystery not to be unravelled. An appeal to Mr Vanslyperken was, of course, impossible, for he did not know that the lad was on board. The whole day was spent in surmises and suppositions; but things all ended in the simple fact, that somehow or another Smallbones had fallen overboard, and there was an end of the poor fellow.
So soon as the cutter was at anchor, Mr Vanslyperken hastened to perform his official duties, and anxious to learn how Smallbones had contrived to escape the clutches of his mother, bent his steps towards the half-way houses. He arrived at the door of his mother's room, and knocked as usual, but there was no reply. It was now the latter end of July, and although it was past seven o'clock it was full daylight. Vanslyperken knocked again and again. His mother must be out, he thought; and if so, she always took the key with her. He had nothing to do but to wait for her return. The passage and staircase was dark, but there was a broad light in the room from the casement, and this light streamed from under the door of the room. A shade crossing the light attracted Vanslyperken's attention, and to while away the tediousness of waiting he was curious to see what it was; he knelt down, looked under the door, and perceived the key which Smallbones had placed there; he inserted his finger and drew it forth, imagining that his mother had slid it beneath till her return.
He fitted it to the lock and opened the door, when his olfactory nerves were offended with a dreadful stench, which surprised him the more as the casement was open. Vanslyperken surveyed the room, he perceived that the blood had been washed from the floor and sand strewed over it. Had he not known that Smallbones had been on board of the cutter the day before, he would have thought that it had been the smell of the dead body not yet removed. This thought crossing his imagination, immediately made the truth flash upon him, and, as if instinctively, he went up to the bed and pulled down the clothes, when he recoiled back with horror at uncovering the face of his mother, now of a livid blue and in the last stage of putrefaction.
Overcome with the horrid sight, and the dreadful stench which accompanied it, he reeled to the casement and gasped for breath. A sickness came over him, and for some time he was incapable of acting and barely capable of reflection.
"She is gone then," thought he at last, and he shuddered when he asked himself where. "She must have fallen by the hands of the lad," continued he, and immediately the whole that had happened appeared to be revealed to him. "Yes, yes, he has recovered from the blow–killed her and locked the door–all is clear now, but I have revenged her death."
Vanslyperken, who had now recovered himself, went softly to the door, took out the key and locked himself in. He had been debating in his mind whether he should call in the neighbours; but, on reflection, as no one had seen him enter, he determined that he would not. He would take his gold and leave the door locked and the key under it, as he found it before her death was discovered: it would be supposed that she died a natural death, for the state of the body would render it impossible to prove the contrary. But there was one act necessary to be performed at which Vanslyperken's heart recoiled. The key of the oak chest was about his mother's person and he must obtain it, he must search for it in corruption and death, amongst creeping worms and noisome stench. It was half an hour before he could make up his mind to the task! but what will avarice not accomplish!
He covered up the face, and with a trembling hand turned over the bedclothes. But we must not disgust our readers, it will suffice to say, that the key was obtained, and the chest opened.
Vanslyperken found all his own gold, and much more than he had ever expected belonging to his mother. There were other articles belonging to him, but he thought it prudent not to touch them. He loaded himself with the treasure, and when he felt that it was all secure, for he was obliged to divide it in different parcels and stow it in various manners about his person, he relocked the chest, placed the key in the cupboard, and quitting the room made fast the door, and like a dutiful son, left the remains of his mother to be inhumed at the expense of the parish.
As he left the house without being observed, and gained the town of Portsmouth, never was Mr Vanslyperken's body so heavily loaded, or his heart lighter. He had got rid of Smallbones and of his mother, both in a way perfectly satisfactory to himself.
He had recovered his own gold, and had also been enriched beyond his hopes by his mother's savings. He felt not the weight which he carried about his person, he wished it had been heavier. All he felt was, very anxious to be on board and have his property secured. His boat waited for him, and one of the men informed him his presence was required at the admiral's immediately; but Mr Vanslyperken first went on board, and having safely locked up all his treasures, then complied with the admiral's wishes. They were to sail immediately, for the intelligence of the Duke of Gloucester's death had just arrived with the despatches, announcing the same to be taken to King William, who was still at the Hague. Vanslyperken sent the boat on board with orders to Short, to heave short and loose sails, and then hastened up to the house of Lazarus, the Jew, aware that the cutter would, in all probability, be despatched immediately to the Hague. The Jew had the letters for Ramsay all prepared. Vanslyperken once more touched his liberal fee, and, in an hour, he was again under way for the Texel.
During the passage, which was very quick, Mr Vanslyperken amused himself as usual, in copying the letters to Ramsay, which contained the most important intelligence of the projects of the Jacobites, and, from the various communications between Ramsay and the conspirators, Vanslyperken had also been made acquainted with the circumstance hitherto unknown to him, of the existence of the caves above the cove, where he had been taken to by the informer, as mentioned in the early part of this work, and also of the names of the parties who visited it.
Of this intelligence Vanslyperken determined to avail himself by-and-bye. It was evident that there were only women in the cave, and Mr Vanslyperken counted his gold, patted the head of Snarleyyow, and indulged in anticipations of further wealth, and the hand of the widow Vandersloosh.
All dreams! Mr Vanslyperken.
The cutter arrived, and he landed with his despatches for the government; and his letters to Ramsay being all delivered, Vanslyperken hastened to the widow's, who, as usual, received him, all smiles. He now confided to her the death of his mother, and astonished her by representing the amount of his wealth, which he had the precaution to state, that the major part of it was left him by his mother.
"Where have you put it all, Mr Vanslyperken?" inquired the widow. And Vanslyperken replied that he had come to ask her advice on the subject, as it was at present all on board of the cutter. The widow, who was not indifferent to money, was more gracious than ever. She had a scheme in her head of persuading him to leave the money under her charge; but Vanslyperken was anxious to go on board again, for he discovered that the key was not in his pocket, and he was fearful that he might have left it on the cabin table; so he quitted rather abruptly, and the widow had not time to bring the battery to bear. As soon as Mr Vanslyperken arrived on board, Corporal Van Spitter, without asking leave, for he felt it was not necessary, went on shore, and was soon in the arms of his enamoured widow Vandersloosh. In the meantime, Mr Vanslyperken discovered the key in the pocket of the waistcoat he had thrown off, and having locked his door, he again opened his drawer, and delighted himself for an hour or two in re-arranging his treasure; after which, feeling himself in want of occupation, it occurred to him, that he might as well dedicate a little more time to the widow, so he manned his boat and went on shore again.
It is all very well to have a morning and afternoon lover if ladies are so inclined, just as they have a morning and afternoon dress, but they should be worn separately. Now, as it never entered the head of Mr Vanslyperken that the corporal was playing him false, so did it never enter the idea of the widow, that Mr Vanslyperken would make his appearance in the evening, and leave the cutter and Snarleyyow, without the corporal being on board to watch over them.
But Mr Vanslyperken did leave the cutter and Snarleyyow, did come on shore, did walk to the widow's house, and did most unexpectedly enter it, and what was the consequence?–that he was not perceived when he entered it, and the door of the parlour as well as the front door being open to admit the air, for the widow and the corporal found that making love in the dog days was rather warm work for people of their calibre–to his mortification and rage the lieutenant beheld the corporal seated in his berth, on the little fubsy sofa, with one arm round the widow's waist, his other hand joined in hers, and, proh pudor! sucking at her dewy lips like some huge carp under the water-lilies on a midsummer's afternoon.
Mr Vanslyperken was transfixed–the parties were too busy with their amorous interchange to perceive his presence; at last the corporal thought that his lips required moistening with a little of the beer of the widow's own brewing, for the honey of her lips had rather glued them together–he turned towards the table to take up his tumbler, and he beheld Mr Vanslyperken.
The corporal, for a moment, was equally transfixed, but on these occasions people act mechanically because they don't know what to do. The corporal had been well drilled, he rose from the sofa, held himself perfectly upright, and raised the back of his right hand to his forehead, there he stood like a statue saluting at the presence of his superior officer.
The widow had also perceived the presence of Vanslyperken almost as soon as the corporal, but a woman's wits are more at their command on these occasions than a man's. She felt that all concealment was now useless, and she prepared for action. At the same time, although ready to discharge a volley of abuse upon Vanslyperken, she paused, to ascertain how she should proceed. Assuming an indifferent air, she said–"Well, Mr Vanslyperken?"
"Well!" exclaimed Vanslyperken, but he could not speak for passion.
"Eaves-dropping, as usual, Mr Vanslyperken?"
"May the roof of this house drop on you, you infernal–."
"No indelicate language, if you please, sir," interrupted the widow, "I won't put up with it in my house, I can tell you–ho, ho, Mr Vanslyperken," continued the widow, working herself into a rage, "that won't do here, Mr Vanslyperken."
"Why, you audacious–you double-faced–"
"Double-faced!–it's a pity you wer'n't double-faced, as you call it, with that snivelling nose and crooked chin of yours. Double-faced, heh!–oh! oh! Mr Vanslyperken–we shall see–wait a little–we shall see who's double-faced. Yes, yes, Mr Vanslyperken–that for you, Mr Vanslyperken–I can hang you when I please, Mr Vanslyperken. Corporal, how many guineas did you see counted out to him at the house opposite?"
During all this the corporal remained fixed and immovable with his hand up to the salute; but on being questioned by his mistress, he replied, remaining in the same respectful attitude.
"Fifty golden guineas, Mistress Vandersloosh."
"A lie! an infamous lie!" cried Vanslyperken, drawing his sword. "Traitor, that you are," continued he to the corporal, "take your reward." This was a very critical moment. The corporal did not attempt the defensive, but remained in the same attitude, and Vanslyperken's rage at the falsehood of the widow, and the discovery of his treason was so great, that he had lost all command of himself. Had not a third party come in just as Vanslyperken drew his sword, it might have gone hard with the corporal; but fortunately Babette came in from the yard, and perceiving the sword fly out of the scabbard, she put her hand behind the door, and snatched two long-handled brooms, one of which she put into the hands of her mistress, and retained the other herself.