Part 15 (1/2)

”They've turned me to door!” she moaned. ”My dear, they've turned me to door!”

She was tramping home to her cousins in St. Day parish. Not another night would she sleep at Vellingey--to be trampled on. Of course she accused the ”foreign woman ”: but I, it seemed, had started the quarrel this time; or, rather, it started over the preparations for my home-coming--some trifling matter of cookery. Selina knew my tastes.

Margit professed to know them better. Such are women.

I own that as I sent the poor soul on her way, with a promise that the gig should carry back her boxes from Vellingey and a secret resolve that she should return to us within a week, I could not avoid a foolish pleasure in the thought that Margit deemed my coming of such importance.

Then it occurred to me that her position now as a single woman alone at Vellingey lay open to scandal. The sooner I tested my growing hopes, the better.

I did so, the second evening, after supper. Obed had stepped out to make the round of the farm buildings and lock up. Margit had removed the white cloth, and was setting the bra.s.s candlesticks and tobacco jar on the uncovered table.

”What is going to happen about Selina?” I asked, from my chair.

Margit set down a candlestick. ”Selina has gone,” she said quietly.

”But people will talk, if you stay here alone with us, or with Obed.

You mustn't mind my saying this.”

”Oh, no. I suppose they will talk.”

I stood up. ”I take it,” said I, ”you cannot be quite blind to my feelings, Margit. I came home on purpose to speak to you: but perhaps, if it had not been for this, I might have put off speaking for some days. If you care for me at all, though, I think you can answer.

My dear, if you will marry me it will make me a happy man.”

She was fingering the candle-base, just touching the bra.s.s with her finger-tips and withdrawing them gently. She looked up. ”I rather thought,” she said, ”you would have spoken last night. Obed asked me this morning--he gave you that chance: and I have promised to marry him.”

”Good Lord! but this is a question of loving a man!”

”I have never said that I like you better. I shall make Obed a very good wife.”

Less than a minute later, Obed came into the room, after slamming the back-door loudly. He did not look at our faces: but I am sure that he knew exactly what had happened.

They were married in April, a fortnight after my leaving England on another voyage. We parted the best of friends; and in the course of the next seven years I spent most of my holidays with them. No married life could well be smoother than was Obed's and Margit's in all this time.

He wors.h.i.+pped her to fondness; and she, without the least parade of affection, seemed to make his comfort and well-being the business of her life. It hardly needs to be said that my unfortunate proposal was ignored by all of us as a thing that had never happened.

In October, 1802, I reached the height of my ambition, being appointed to the command of the Company's s.h.i.+p _Macartney_, engaged in the China traffic. I call her the _Macartney_: but the reader will presently see that I have reasons for not wis.h.i.+ng to make public the actual name of this vessel, which, however, will be sufficiently familiar to all who knew me at that time and who have therefore what I may call a private interest in this narrative. For the same reason I shall say no more of her than that she was a new s.h.i.+p, Thames-built, and more than commonly fast; and that I commanded her from October 1802 to June 1806.

She carried pa.s.sengers, of course: and in the autumn of 1805 it surprised and delighted me to hear from Obed that he and Margit had determined on a sea voyage, and wished to book their pa.s.sages to the Canton River and back in the _Macartney_. I had often given this invitation in jest: but such voyages merely for health and pleasure were then far from common. Yet there was no single impediment to their going. They had no children: they were well-to-do: they had now a hind, or steward (one Stephens), to whose care they might comfortably leave the farm. To be short, they sailed with me.

On the 2nd of May 1806, the _Macartney_ dropped anchor in the Canton River after a fast and prosperous voyage. The events I have now to relate will appear least extraordinary to the reader who best understands under what conditions the English carry on their trade with China. Let me say, then, that in its jealousy of us foreign barbarians the Chinese government confines our s.h.i.+ps to the one port of Canton and reserves the right of nominating such persons as shall be permitted to trade with us. These Hong merchants (in number less than a dozen) are each and all responsible to the Emperor for any disturbance that may be committed by a person belonging to a foreign s.h.i.+p: and they in turn look for compensation to the European factors. So that, a Chinese mob being the most insolent in the world, and the spirit of British seamen proverbial, these factors often find themselves in situations of great delicacy, and sometimes of more than a little danger.

It happened that on the next day after our arrival a small party of us-- Margit and Obed, the second officer, Mr. Tomlinson, and I--had taken a short stroll ash.o.r.e and were returning to the boat, which lay ready by the landing, manned by six seamen. The c.o.xswain brought the boat alongside: and I, on the lowest step of the landing-stage, stooped to hold her steady while Margit embarked. She and Obed waited on the step next above, with Mr. Tomlinson close behind. A small crowd had followed us: and just then one dirty Chinaman reached forward and with a word or two (no doubt indecent) laid his open palm on the back of Margit's neck.

Quick as thought, she lifted a hand and dealt him a rousing box in the ear. I sprang up and pushed him back as he recovered. He slipped on the green ooze of the steps and fell: this was all I saw, for the crowd made a rush and closed. Obed and Mr. Tomlinson had hurried Margit into the boat: I leapt after them: and we pushed off under a brisk shower of dirt and stones. We were soon out of range, and reached the s.h.i.+p without mishap.

Knowing the nature of a Chinese rabble, I felt glad enough that the affair had proved no worse; and thought little more of it until early next morning, when Mr. Findlater, the first officer, came with a puzzled face and reported that during the night someone had attached a boat, with a dead Chinaman in it, to the chain of our small bower anchor.

I went on deck at once. A good look at the corpse relieved me: for as far as my recollection served, it bore no resemblance to the man I had pushed on the landing. I told off two of the rowers of the previous day--the two whose position in the bows had given them the best view of the scuffle--to cut the thing adrift. They did so and came back with the report that they had never seen the dead man before in their lives.

So I tried to feel easy.

But soon after breakfast, and almost in the full heat of the day, there came off a galley with two of the Hong merchants and no less a person than Mr. '--', the Chief of the H.E.I.C.'s factory. He brought serious news. The boat had drifted up the river and had been recovered by a crowd of Chinese, who took out the dead man and laid him on the doorstep of the factory, clamouring that he had been killed, the day before, by an Englishwoman; and threatening, unless she were given up, to seize the first supercargo that came out and carry him off to be strangled.

I answered, describing the scuffle and declaring my readiness to swear that the body bore no resemblance to the fellow whose ear Margit had boxed. But I knew how little this testimony would avail in a Chinese court. The two Hong merchants a.s.sured me that their brother, the _Macartney's_ guarantor, was already in the hands of the magistrates, who had handcuffed him and were threatening him with the bamboo: that an interdiction lay on the _Macartney's_ cargo, and Mr. '--' himself ran no small risk of imprisonment.