Mr. Midshipman Easy by Frederick Marryat (reading tree .TXT) đź“–
- Author: Frederick Marryat
- Performer: -
Book online «Mr. Midshipman Easy by Frederick Marryat (reading tree .TXT) 📖». Author Frederick Marryat
“Dead! Don Silvio dead! well, Mesty, we are eternally obliged to you, for there was no safety for my father while he was living. Let him go on.”
“So when I put de knife through his body, I lie down by him as if noting had happened, for ten minutes, and den I take de bag of dollars from under him head, and den I feel him all over, and I find him pistols and him purse, which I hab here, all gold. So I take them and I look-all asleep, and I crawl back to de tree. Den I stay to tink a little; de man on watch come up and look at me, but he tink all right and he go away again. Lucky ting, by de power, dat I go back to tree. I wait again, and den I crawl and crawl till I clear of all, and den I take to my heel and run for urn life, till daylight come, and den I so tired I lie down in bush; I stay in bush all day, and den I set off again back here, for I find road and know my way. I not eat den for one day and one night, and come to house where I put my head in and find woman there. I not able to speak, so I help myself, and not show my face. She not like dat and make a bobbery, but I lift up my cloak and show my black face and white teeth, and den she tink me de debil. She run out of de house and I help myself very quick, and den set off and come close here yesterday morning. I hide myself all day and come in at night, and now, Massa Easy, you ab haf de whole truth and you ab your tousand dollars-and you ab got rid of de rascal friar and de d-n galley-slave, Don Silvio.”
“Tell them all this, Ned,” said Jack, who, whilst Gascoigne was so employed, talked with Mesty.
“I was very much frightened for you, Mesty,” said Jack; “but still I thought you quite as cunning as the friar, and so it has turned out; but the thousand dollars ought to be yours.”
“No, sar,” replied Mesty, “the dollars not none; but I hab plenty of gold in Don Silvio’s purse-plenty, plenty of gold. I keep my property, Massa Easy, and you keep yours.”
“I’m afraid that this affair may be found out, Mesty; the woman will spread the report of having been attacked by a black friar, and that will lead to suspicion, as the other friars of the convent knew that you left with Friar Thomaso.”
“So I tink dat, but when a man starve, he quite forget his thought.”
“I don’t blame you; but now I must talk to Don Philip.”
“Suppose you no objection, while you talk I eat something from the table then, Massa Easy, for I hungry enough to eat de friar, mule and all.”
“Eat, my good fellow, and drink as much as you please.” The consultation between our two midshipmen and Don Philip was not long: they perceived the immediate necessity for the departure of Mesty, and the suspicion which would attach to themselves. Don Philip and Agnes left them, to go to Don Rebiera, and make him acquainted with what had passed, and to ask his advice.
When they went into the room, Don Rebiera immediately accosted his son.
“Have you heard, Philip, that Friar Thomaso has returned at last?-so the servants tell me.”
“The report may be fortunate,” replied Don Philip; “but I have another story to tell you.”
He then sat down and imparted to Don Rebiera all the adventures of Mesty. Don Rebiera was for some time in deep thought; at last he replied,-
“That Don Silvio is no more is fortunate, and the negro would be entitled to reward for his destruction-but for the friar, that is a bad business. The negro might remain and tell the whole story, and the facts might be proved by the evidence of Signor Easy, and the letters; but what then? we should raise the whole host of the clergy against our house, and we have suffered too much from them already; the best plan would be the immediate departure, not only of the negro but of our two young friends. The supposition of Friar Thomaso being here, and their departure with the negro servant to rejoin their ship, will remove much suspicion and destroy all inquiry. They must be off immediately. Go to them, Philip, and point out to them the absolute necessity of this measure, and tell our young friend that I rigidly adhere to my promise, and as soon as he has his father’s sanction I will bestow upon him my daughter. In the meantime I will send down and see if a vessel can be chartered for Malta.”
Our hero and Gascoigne fully admitted the wisdom of this measure, and prepared for their departure; indeed, now that Don Rebiera’s resolution had been made known to our hero, he cared more for obtaining his father’s consent than he did for remaining to enjoy himself at Palermo; and before noon of the next day all was ready, the vessel had been procured, Jack took his leave of Agnes and her mother, and, accompanied by Don Rebiera and Don Phillip (for Don Martin was on duty a few miles from Palermo), went down to the beach, and, having bid them farewell, embarked with Gascoigne and Mesty on board of the two-masted lateen which had been engaged, and before sunset not a steeple of Palermo was to be seen.
“What are you thinking of, Jack?” said Gascoigne, after our hero had been silent half an hour.
“I have been thinking, Ned, that we are well out of it.”
“So do I,” replied Gascoigne; and here the conversation dropped for a time.
“What are you thinking of now, Jack?” said Gascoigne, after a long pause.
“I’ve been thinking that I’ve a good story for the old Governor.”
“Very true,” replied Gascoigne; and both were again silent forsome time.
“What are you thinking of now, Jack?” said Gascoigne, after another long interval.
“I’ve been thinking that I shall leave the service,” replied Jack.
“I wish you would take me with you,” replied Gascoigne, with a sigh; and again they were both in deep contemplation.
“What are you thinking of now, Jack?” said Gascoigne again.
“Of Agnes,” replied our hero.
“Well, if that’s the case, I’ll call you when supper’s ready. In the meantime I’ll go and talk with Mesty.”
Jack leaves the service, in which he had no business, and goes home to mind his own business.
ON THE FOURTH DAY they arrived at Malta, and our two midshipmen, as soon as they had settled with the padrone of the vessel, went up to the government house. They found the Governor in the veranda, who held out both his hands, one to each.
“Glad to see you, my lads. Well, Jack, how’s the leg-all right? don’t limp? And your arm, Gascoigne?”
“All right, sir, and as sound as ever it was,” replied they both.
“Then you’re in luck, and have made more haste than you deserve, after your mad pranks: but now sit down, and I suppose, my friend Jack, you have a story to tell me.”
“O yes, Sir Thomas, and a very long one.”
“Then I won’t have it now, for I expect people on business; we’ll have it after dinner. Get your things up and take possession o your rooms. The Aurora sailed four days ago. You’ve had a wonderful recovery.”
“Wonderful, sir!” replied our hero; “all Palermo rings with it.”
“Well you may go now-I shall see you at dinner. Wilson will be delighted when he hears that you have got round again, for he was low-spirited about it, I can tell you, which is more than you deserve.”
“He’s right there,” said our hero to Gascoigne, as they walked away.
When dinner was over, Jack narrated to the Governor the adventures of Mesty, with which he was much interested; but when they were quite alone in the evening, the Governor called our two midshipmen into the veranda, and said
“Now my lads, I’m not going to preach, as the saying is, but I’ve been long enough in the world to know that a compound fracture of the leg is not cured in fourteen or sixteen days. I ask you to tell me the truth. Did not you deceive Captain Wilson on this point?”
“I am ashamed to say that we did, sir,” replied Easy.
“How did you manage that, and why?”
Jack then went into further details relative to himself and his amour, stating his wish to be left behind, and all that had passed.
“Well, there’s some excuse for you, but none for the surgeons. If any surgeon here had played such a trick, I would have hung him, as sure as I’m Governor. This affair of yours has become serious. Mr Easy, we must have some conversation on the matter tomorrow morning.”
The next morning the packet from England was reported off the harbour’s mouth. After breakfast the letters were brought on shore, and the Governor sent for our hero.
“Mr Easy, here are two letters for you; I am sorry to say, with black seals. I trust that they do not bring the intelligence of the death of any very near relative.”
Jack bowed without speaking, took the letters, and went to his room. The first he opened was from his father.
“MY DEAR JOHN,-YOU will be much grieved to hear that your poor mother, after sitting in the corner for nearly two years waiting for the millennium, appeared to pine away; whether from disappointment or not I do not know; but at last, in spite of all Dr Middleton could do, she departed this life; and, as the millennium would not come to her as she expected, it is to be hoped she is gone to the millennium. She was a good wife, and I always let her have her own way. Dr Middleton does not appear to be satisfied as to the cause of her death, and has wished to examine; but I said no, for I am a philosopher, and it is no use looking for causes after effects; but I have done since her death what she never would permit me to do during her life. I have had her head shaved, and examined it very carefully as a phrenologist, and most curiously has she proved the truth of the sublime science. I will give you the result. Determination, very prominent; Benevolence, small; Caution, extreme; Veneration, not very great; Philo-progenitiveness, strange to say, is very large, considering she has but one child; Imagination, very strong: you know, my dear boy, she was always imagining some nonsense or another. Her other organs were all moderate. Poor dear creature! she is gone, and we may well wail, for a better mother or a better wife never existed. And now, my dear boy, I must request that you call for your discharge, and come home as soon as possible. I cannot exist without you, and I require your assistance in the grand work I have in contemplation. The time is at hand, the cause of equality will soon triumph; the abject slaves now hold up their heads; I have electrified them with my speeches, but I am getting old and feeble; I require my son to leave my mantle to, as one prophet did to another, and then I will, like him, ascend in glory. “Your affectionate Father, “NICODEMUS EASY.
From this it would appear, thought Jack, that my mother is dead, and that my father is mad. For some time our hero remained in
Comments (0)