Part 27 (1/2)
”When is the time it is harvested and fit to be carried round?” inquired I.
”It is now turning fast,” said she; ”all that you see hanging in the drying sheds has been already drawn; in three or four weeks it will be housed, and then we begin to pack: in about two months from this the sloop will take it round.”
”But is it not expensive keeping a sloop on purpose, with men to have her in charge?” inquired I, to hear what she would say.
”The sloop lies at anchor, without a soul on board,” said she. ”No one ever comes up this river. I believe Captain Smith, who made the settlement, did so once. There is another river, about twenty miles further down, which is occasionally frequented by buccaneers, I am told--indeed, I know it, for my husband had more to do with them than perhaps was good for his soul, but this little river is never visited.”
”Then your servants take her round?”
”Yes; I leave one in charge, and take two with me.”
”But you have but two.”
”Not till you came--one died; but now I have three,” and she smiled at me again.
If I had not been so afraid of affronting her, I certainly would have said to her, ”Do anything, I beg, but smile.”
I said no more on that point. She called Jeykell, who was in the tobacco-shed, and desired him to kill a couple of chickens, and bring them in. We then entered the cabin, and she observed--”I don't doubt but you are tired with so much fatigue; you look so; go and sleep on one of their beds; you shall have one for yourself by night.”
I was not sorry to do as she proposed, for I was tired out. I lay down, and I did not wake till she called me and told me that dinner was ready.
I was quite ready for that also, and I sat down with her, but the two convict servants did not. She ate in proportion to her size, and that is saying enough. After dinner she left me, and went with her two men on her farming avocations, and I was for a long while cogitating on what had pa.s.sed. I perceived that I was completely in her power, and that it was only by obtaining her good-will that I had any chance of getting away, and I made up my mind to act accordingly. I found a comfortable bed, of the husks of Indian corn, prepared for me at night, in an ante-room where the two servant-men slept. It was a luxury that I had not enjoyed for a long while. For several days I remained very quiet, and apparently very contented. My mistress gave me no hard work, chiefly sending me on messages or taking me out with her. She made the distinction between me and the convicts that I always took my meals with her and they did not. In short, I was treated as a friend and visitor more than anything else, and had I not been so anxious about going to England, I certainly had no reason to complain except of my detention, and this, it was evident, it was not in her power to prevent, as, until the sloop went away with the tobacco, she had no means of sending me away. One day, however, as I was walking past the tobacco-shed, I heard my name mentioned by the two convicts, and stopping I heard James say:
”Depend upon it, that's what she's after, Jeykell; and he is to be our master, whether he likes it or not.”
”Well, I shouldn't wonder,” replied the other; ”she does make pure love to him, that's certain.”
”Very true; everything's fierce with her--even love--and so he'll find it if he don't fancy her.”
”Yes, indeed:--well, I'd rather serve another ten years than she should fall in love with me.”
”And if I had my choice, whether to be her husband or to swing, I should take the cord in preference.”
”Well, I pity him from my heart; for he is a good youth and a fair-spoken and a handsome, too; and I'm sure that he has no idea of his unfortunate situation.”
”No idea, indeed,” said I to myself, as I walked away. ”Merciful Heaven! Is it possible!” And when I thought over her conduct, and what had pa.s.sed between us, I perceived not only that the convicts were right in their supposition, but that I had, by wis.h.i.+ng to make myself agreeable to her, even a.s.sisted in bringing affairs to this crisis.
That very day she had said to me: ”I was very young when I married, only fourteen, and I lived with my husband nine years. He is dead more than a year now.”
When she said that, which she did at dinner, while she was clawing the flesh off a wild turkey, there was something so ridiculous in that feminine confession, coming from such a masculine mouth, that I felt very much inclined to laugh, but I replied:
”You are a young widow, and ought to think of another husband.”
Again, when she said, ”If ever I marry again, it shall not be a man who has been burnt on the hand. No, no, my husband shall be able to open both hands and show them.”
I replied, ”You are right there. I would never disgrace myself by marrying a convict.”
When I thought of these and many other conversations which had pa.s.sed between us, I had no doubt, in my own mind, but that the convicts were correct in their suppositions, and I was disgusted at my own blindness.
”At all events,” said I to myself, after a long cogitation, ”if she wants to marry me, she must go to James Town for a parson, and if I once get there, I will contrive, as soon as extra constables are sworn in, to break off the match.” But, seriously, I was in an awkward plight.