Part 7 (1/2)
The hint was taken, and some of the oldsters pulling out theirs got them filled likewise, supposing that it was the custom of the country for the guests to carry off the remains of a feast. Coffee was brought in, and a stroll through the grounds was then proposed. The object of the young gentlemen's visit to the sh.o.r.e came out in the course of the evening.
”You must stay here, then, till the time you have appointed, and I will show you a much shorter cut to the sh.o.r.e than by the high road,” said mine host.
Higson gladly accepted his offer. Tea and further refreshments were found on the table on their return from the garden, and then one of the younger ladies went to the piano, and another took a harp, and a third a guitar, and the young officers who could sing were asked to do so, which of course they did, Paddy Desmond especially having a capital voice.
Thus the evening pa.s.sed pleasantly away, till it was nearly ten o'clock.
”I had no idea there were such capital houses of public entertainment as yours in the island,” said Higson, highly pleased with mine host, who had been very attentive to him. ”Whatever Englishmen undertake, however, they always beat the natives hollow, and now just tell me what's to pay?”
”I am amply repaid by having had the pleasure of entertaining you,”
answered mine host, laughing. ”I must not let you go away under a mistake. The ladies you have seen are my mother and wife, and our sisters and two cousins staying with us. You may have heard my name as one of the princ.i.p.al s.h.i.+ppers from the island, and when you come across my brand in the old country you will be able to say a good word for it.”
”That I will, sir; but I must beg ten thousand pardons for my stupidity, and that of my s.h.i.+pmates. We ought to have found you out at first-- couldn't understand it, I confess.”
Mr--soon set Higson and the rest at their ease, and thanks and farewells being uttered, under the guidance of the former they commenced their journey through orange groves and vineyards down the hill.
Senhora Lobo's was.h.i.+ng establishment was soon reached, and there stood before her house a long line of bags and bundles, the former containing clothes, the latter tablecloths, sheets, and towels, each weighing twenty or thirty pounds. As time would be lost by sending to the boat for men the young gentlemen agreed to carry their property between them.
Their new friend at once declared his intention of a.s.sisting. How to fist the bundles was the question. One could be easily carried on the back; but on counting them it was found that each person must carry two.
After due discussion it was decided that the only way to do this was to fasten the bags or bundles two and two together, by the strings of the bags or the corners of the bundles, and to sling them thus over their shoulders, one hanging before and one behind. The two younger mids.h.i.+pmen got the lightest for their share, old Higson manfully taking the largest, and saying that he would bring up the rear. Their new friend led to show them the way. There was a high gate near the bottom of the path, but that was sure to be open. Off started the strange procession amid shouts of laughter, to which Senhora Lobo and her hand-maidens added their share. ”Adios, adios, senh.o.r.es!” they shrieked, clapping their hands and bending almost double in their ecstasies. The shouts of the merry damsels could be heard long after they had been lost to sight, as the not less jovial young gentlemen descended the hill. At first the path was tolerably even, but gradually it became steeper and steeper, and the bundles seemed to grow heavier and heavier, and the night darker and darker. They could see that they were pa.s.sing though a vineyard, formed on terraces, built upon the hillside. The a.s.sistant surgeon, who followed next their friend, had slackened his speed, allowing the latter to get ahead of him. Suddenly the medico lost sight of his guide, when stumbling he let his bags slip off his shoulders, and was obliged to stop a minute to adjust them, bringing everybody else behind him to a halt. Then to make up for lost time he pushed on at greater speed than before. He heard their guide cry out something, but what it was he could not tell. ”Make haste you in the rear,” he exclaimed, but scarcely were the words out of his mouth than he found himself going headforemost from the top of a high wall, when he began to roll over and over, down a steep declivity. He was not alone, for one after the other came his companions, the darkness preventing those behind from discovering what had happened, Higson being the last, till the whole party were rolling away down the hill, struggling and kicking with the bags round their necks, some well-nigh strangled by the cords which held them together.
”Och, it's kilt I am entirely!” exclaimed Paddy Desmond, who was the first to find his voice. ”Where are we after going to? Is the say below us, does any one know?”
”Can't some of you fellows ahead stop yourselves?” sung out Higson, who came thundering along with his big bundles about his neck; but the ground had just been cleared, not a root or branch offered a holdfast, and his weight giving a fresh impetus to the rest away they all went again over another terrace wall, shrieks and shouts and groans proceeding from those whose throats were not too tightly pressed by the cords to allow them utterance. Their cries quickly brought their friend to their a.s.sistance, when a level spot having fortunately been reached, with his aid, after some hauling and twisting, they were at length got on their legs, and their bundles and bags being replaced on their shoulders they proceeded in the same order as before. One or two groaned, occasionally, from the weight of their burdens or from the pain of their bruises, but most of the party trudged on, laughing heartily at their adventure.
”Hillo, why the gate is locked--never knew that before!” they heard their guide exclaim. ”Never mind, we can easily climb it.” Saying this he threw his bags over, and climbing to the top safely dropped down on the other side. The rest of the party, with one exception, followed his example. When Higson came to the gate it looked so contemptibly easy that he determined to climb it with his bundles on his back. Telling Tom, who was next him, to go on, he mounted to the top, when just as he had got over his foot slipped, and down he came, having his body on the outer side and his huge bundles still on the inner, his neck being held fast by the cord which fastened them together. A deep groan escaped him. It might have been the last he would ever have uttered, but fortunately Tom heard it, and turning back discovered what had happened.
”Help! help!” he shouted; ”here's old Higson hanging himself.”
His shout brought the rest to the rescue, accompanied by d.i.c.k Needham, who had come up from the boat to see after them. While a couple of the oldsters climbed to the top of the gate d.i.c.k raised the old mate with his shoulders, and after much pulling and hauling his neck was cleared from the noose, when he would have fallen to the ground had not d.i.c.k caught him.
”I'm much afeered Mr Higson's gone,” exclaimed d.i.c.k, as he placed his burden gently down.
”Dead! why he was kicking tremendously just now,” cried Tom, much concerned, for he had a real regard for his messmate.
”I'm afeered so,” repeated d.i.c.k, with a sigh.
”Let me see,” said McTavish, the a.s.sistant-surgeon, and stooping down he undid Higson's handkerchief and rubbed away at his throat, feeling carefully round it. ”Neck not dislocated, as I feared; he's all right, and will come round presently,” he said, the announcement giving infinite relief to those who stood around.
As McTavish had predicted, Higson soon recovered; and as d.i.c.k was there to carry his bundles the adventurers were once more _en route_ to the boat. All hands were warm in their expressions of thanks to their hospitable entertainer.
”You'll not forget 'mine host' of the country venda,” he said, laughing, as he shook hands for the last time. They gave him three cheers, as the boat shoved off and pulled away for the frigate.
Higson had been silent, while the rest were talking, as if brooding over something; at length he exclaimed, ”I say, Rogers, I'll not have you call me old Higson--they were the last words I heard.”
”Then you didn't hear me call the other fellows to your a.s.sistance,”
answered Tom promptly. ”If I hadn't you wouldn't have been sitting up and talking now. It wouldn't have been pleasant for your friends to have seen a paragraph in the papers, 'John Higson, mate of HMS _Plantagenet_, was hung on the --'”
”Avast there,” cried Higson, ”or I'll break your head, you--”