The Lonely Island: The Refuge of the Mutineers by R. M. Ballantyne (10 ebook reader .txt) 📖

“Yes, of course,” said the poor girl, blushing crimson at the thought of having been led almost to betray her friend’s confidences.

“Well, then,” continued Dan, “Charlie and Sall bein’ so fond o’ one another—”

“I did not say that Sally was fond of Charlie,” interrupted Sarah, quickly.

“Oh dear no!” said Dan, with deep solemnity; “of course you didn’t; nevertheless I know it, and it wouldn’t surprise me much if something came of it—a wedding, for instance.”

Sarah, being afraid to commit herself in some way if she opened her lips, said nothing, but gazed intently at the ground as they walked slowly among the sweet-scented shrubs.

“But there’s one o’ the boys that wants to marry you, Sarah Quintal, and it is for him I want to put in a good word to-day.”

A flutter of surprise, mingled with dismay at her heart, tended still further to confuse the poor girl. Not knowing what to say, she stammered, “Indeed! Who can it—it—” and stopped short.

“They sometimes call him Dan,” said the youth, suddenly grasping Sarah’s hand and passing an arm round her waist, “but his full name is Daniel McCoy.”

Sarah Quintal became as suddenly pale now as she had formerly become red, and struggled to get free.

“Oh, Dan, Dan, don’t!” she cried, earnestly; “do let me go, if you love me!”

“Well, I will, if you say I may speak to Father Adams about it.”

Sarah’s answer was quite inaudible to ordinary ears, but it caused Dan to loosen his hold; and the girl, bounding away like a frightened gazelle, disappeared among the palm-groves.

“Well,” exclaimed Dan, thrusting both hands into his trousers-pockets as he walked smartly down the hill, “you are the dearest girl in all the world. There can’t be two opinions on that point.”

Dan’s world was a remarkably small one, as worlds go, but it was quite large enough to fill his heart to overflowing at that time.

In turning into another path he almost ran against Charlie Christian.

“Well?” exclaimed Charlie, with a brilliant smile. “Well?” repeated Dan, with a beaming countenance.

“All right,” said Charlie.

“Ditto,” said Dan, as he took his friend’s arm, and hastened to the abode of John Adams, the great referee in all important matters.

They found him seated at his table, with the big Bible open before him.

“Well, my lads,” he said, with a kindly smile as they entered, “you find me meditatin’ over a verse that seems to me full o’ suggestive thoughts.”

“Yes, father, what is it?” asked Dan.

“‘A prudent wife is from the Lord.’ You’ll find it in the nineteenth chapter o’ Proverbs.”

The youths looked at each other in great surprise. “It is very strange,” said Charlie, “that you should hit upon that text to-day.”

“Why so, Charlie?”

“Because—because—we came to—that is to say, we want to—”

“Get spliced, Charlie; out with it, man. You keep shuffling about the edge like a timid boy goin’ to dive into deep water for the first time.”

“Well, and so it is deep water,” replied Charlie; “so deep that we can’t fathom it easily; and this is the first time too.”

“The fact is, you’ve come to tell me,” said Adams, looking at Charlie, “that you want to marry Otaheitan Sally, and that Dan there wants to marry Sarah Quintal. Is it not so?”

“I think, father, you must be a wizard,” said Dan, with a surprised look. “How did you come to guess it?”

“I didn’t guess it, lad; I saw it as plain as the nose on your own face. Anybody could see it with half an eye. Why, I’ve seen it for years past; but that’s not the point. The first question is, Are you able to feed your wives without requirin’ them to work too hard in the fields?”

“Yes, father,” answered Dan, promptly. “Charlie helped me, and I helped him, and so we’ve both got enough of land enclosed and stocked to keep our—our—wives comfortably,” (even Dan looked modest here!) “without requiring them to work at all, for a long time at least.”

“Well. I don’t want ’em not to work at all—that’s good for neither man, nor woman, nor beast. Even child’n work hard, poor things, while playin’ at pretendin’ to work. However, I’m glad to hear you are ready. Of course I knew what you were up to all along. Now, you’ll want to borrow a few odds an’ ends from the general stock, therefore go an’ make out lists of what you require, and I’ll see about it. Is it long since you arranged it wi’ the girls?”

“About half-an-hour,” returned Dan.

“H’m! sharp practice. You’ll be the better of meditation for a week or two. Now, get along with you, lads, and think of the word I have given you from God’s book about marriage. I’ll not keep you waitin’ longer than I think right.”

So Dan and Charlie left the presence-chamber of their nautical ruler, quite content to wait for a couple of weeks, having plenty to keep them employed, body and mind, in labouring in their gardens, perfecting the arrangements of their respective cottages, and making out lists of the various things they required to borrow. In all of which operations they were lovingly assisted by their intended wives, with a matter-of-fact gravity that would have been quite touching if it had not been half ridiculous.

The list of things to be borrowed was made out in accordance with a system of barter, exchange, and loan, which had begun in necessity, and was afterwards conducted on regular principles by Adams, who kept a systematic journal and record of accounts, in which he entered the nature and quantity of work performed by each family, what each had received, and what each was due on account. The exchanges also were made in a systematic manner. Thus, when one family had too many salt fish, and another had too much fruit or vegetables, a fair exchange restored the equilibrium to the satisfaction of both parties; and when the stores of one family were exhausted, a fresh supply was raised for it from the general possessions of all the rest, to be repaid, however, in exact measure when the suffering family should be again in affluence, through good harvests and hard work. All details were minutely noted down by Adams, so that injustice to individuals or to the community at large was avoided.

It is interesting to trace, in this well-conducted colony, the great root-principles on which the colossal system of the world’s commerce and trade has been reared, and to recognise in John Adams the germs of those principles of equity and method which have raised England to her high commercial position. But still more interesting is it to recognise in him that good seed, the love of God and His truth, spiritual, intellectual, and material, which, originated by the Holy Spirit, and founded in Jesus Christ, produces the “righteousness that exalteth a nation.”

When the short period of probation was past, Charlie Christian became the happy husband of the girl whom he had all but worshipped from the earliest rememberable days of infancy, and Dan McCoy was united to Sarah Quintal. As in the first case of marriage, Otaheitan Sall was older than her husband; but in her case the difference was so slight as scarcely to be worth mentioning. As to appearance, tall, serious, strapping Charlie looked old enough to have been Sally’s father.

The wedding-day was a day of great rejoicing, considerable solemnity, and not a little fun; for the religion of the Pitcairners, being drawn direct from the inspired Word, was the reverse of dolorous. Indeed, the simplicity of their faith was extreme, for it consisted in merely asking the question, “What does God wish me to do?” and doing it.

Of course the simplicity of this rule was, in Pitcairn as elsewhere, unrecognised by ignorance, or rendered hazy and involved by stupidity. Adams had his own difficulties in combating the effects of evil in the hearts of his children, for, as we have said before, they were by no means perfect, though unusually good.

For instance, one day one of those boys who was passing into the hobbledehoy stage of life, came with a perplexed air, and said—

“Didn’t you tell us in school yesterday, father, that if we were good Jesus would save us?”

“No, Jack Mills, I told you just the reverse. I told you that if Jesus saved you you would be good.”

“Then why doesn’t He save me and make me good?” asked Jack, anxious to cast the blame of his indecision about his salvation off his own shoulders.

“Because you refuse to be saved,” said Adams, pointedly.

Jack Mills felt and looked somewhat hurt at this. He was one of the steadiest boys at the school, always learned his tasks well, and was generally pretty well behaved; but there was in him an ugly, half-hidden root of selfishness, which he did not himself perceive.

“Do you remember going to the shore yesterday?” asked Adams, replying to the look,—for the boy did not speak.

“Yes, father.”

“And you remember that two little boys had just got into a canoe, and were pushing off to enjoy themselves, when you ran down, turned them out, and took the canoe to yourself?”

Jack did not reply; but his flushed face told that he had not forgotten the incident.

“That’s right, dear boy,” continued Adam, “Your blood tells the truth for you, and your tongue don’t contradict it. So long’s you keep the unruly member straight you’ll get along. Well, now, Jack, that was a sin of unkindness, and a sort of robbery, too, for the canoe belonged to the boys while they had possession. Did you want to be saved from that sin, my boy?”

Jack was still silent. He knew that he had not wished to be saved at the time, because, if he had, he would have at once returned to the shore and restored the canoe, with an apology for having taken it by force.

“But I was sorry afterwards, father,” pleaded the boy.

“I know you were, Jack, and your guilty conscience longed for forgiveness. But Jesus did not come to this world to forgive us. He came to save us—to save this people from their sins; His people,—forgiven people, my boy,—from their sins. If you had looked to Jesus, He would have sent His Spirit into you, and brought His Word to your mind, ‘Be ye kind one to another,’ or, ‘Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them:’ or in some way or other He would have turned you back and saved you from sin, but you did not look to Jesus; in short, you refused to be saved just then, and thought to make up for it by being sorry afterwards. Isn’t that the way of it, Jack?”

“Yes, father,” said Jack, with downcast but no longer hurt looks, for Adams’s tone and manner were very kind.

“Then you know now, Jack Mills, why you’re not yet saved, and you can’t be good till you are saved, any more than you can fly till you’ve got wings. But don’t be cast down, my lad; He will save you yet. All you’ve got to do is to cease your opposition, and let Him take you in hand.”

Thus, or in some such way, did this God-appointed pastor lead his little flock from day to day and year to year.

But to return from this digression.

We have said that the double wedding-day was one of mingled rejoicing, solemnity, and fun. If you insist on further explanation, good reader, and want to know something more about the rejoicing, we can only direct you to yonder clump of blossoming plants in the shade of the palm-grove. There you will find Charlie Christian looking timidly down into the gorgeous orbs of Otaheitan Sally as they hold sweet converse of things past, present, and to come. They have been so trained in ways of righteousness, that the omission of the world-to-come from their love-making, (not flirtation, observe), would be as ridiculous as the absence of reference to the wedding-day.

On the other side of the