Part 7 (1/2)
You would have been moved by poor old Abdool Jemaalee's solemn benediction when I took leave to-day. He accompanied it with a gross of oranges and lemons.
LETTER XV
Capetown, Thursday, May 8th.
AT last, after no end of 'casus' and 'discrimina rerum', I shall sail on Sat.u.r.day the 10th, per s.h.i.+p _Camperdown_, for East India Docks.
These weary six weeks have cost no end of money and temper. I have been eating my heart out at the delay, but it was utterly impossible to go by any of the Indian s.h.i.+ps. They say there have never been so few s.h.i.+ps sailing from the Cape as this year, yet crowds were expected on account of the Exhibition. The Attorney-General goes by our s.h.i.+p, so we are sure of good usage; and I hear he is very agreeable. I have the best cabin next to the stern cabin, in both senses of _next_. S- has come back from the s.h.i.+p, where she has spent the day with the carpenter; and I am to go on board to-morrow. Will you ask R- to cause inquiries to be made among the Mollahs of Cairo for a Hadji, by name Abdool Rachman, the son of Abdool Jemaalee, of Capetown, and, if possible, to get the inclosed letter sent him? The poor people are in sad anxiety for their son, of whom they have not heard for four months, and that from an old letter.
Henry will thus have a part of all the blessings which were solemnly invoked on me by poor old Abdool, who is getting very infirm, but toddled up and cracked his old fingers over my head, and invoked the protection of Allah with all form; besides that Betsy sent me twelve dozen oranges and lemons. Abdool Rachman is about twenty-six, a Malay of Capetown, speaks Dutch and English, and is supposed to be studying theology at Cairo. The letter is written by the prettiest Malay girl in Capetown.
I won't enter upon my longings to be home again, and to see you all. I must now see to my last commissions and things, and send this to go by next mail.
G.o.d bless you all, and kiss my darlings, all three.
LETTER XVI
Friday, May 16th.
On board the good s.h.i.+p _Camperdown_, 500 miles North-west of Table-Bay.
I EMBARKED this day week, and found a good airy cabin, and all very comfortable. Next day I got the carpenter's services, by being on board before all the rest, and relashed and cleeted everything, which the 'Timmerman', of course, had left so as to get adrift the first breeze.
At two o'clock the Attorney-General, Mr. Porter, came on board, escorted by bands of music and all the volunteers of Capetown, _quorum pars maxima fuit_; i.e. Colonel. It was quite what the Yankees call an 'ovation'.
The s.h.i.+p was all decked with flags, and altogether there was _le diable a quatre_. The consequence was, that three signals went adrift in the scuffle; and when a Frenchman signalled us, we had to pa.s.s for _brutaux Anglais_, because we could not reply. I found means to supply the deficiency by the lining of that very ancient anonymous cloak, which did the red, while a bandanna handkerchief of the Captain's furnished the yellow, to the sailmaker's immense amus.e.m.e.nt. On him I bestowed the blue outside of the cloak for a pair of dungaree trowsers, and in signalling now it is, 'up go 2.41, and my lady's cloak, which is 7.'
We have had lovely weather, and on Sunday such a glorious farewell sight of Table Mountain and my dear old Hottentot Hills, and of Kaap Goed Hoop itself. There was little enough wind till yesterday, when a fair southerly breeze sprang up, and we are rolling along merrily; and the fat old _Camperdown does_ roll like an honest old 'wholesome' tub as she is.
It is quite a _bonne fortune_ for me to have been forced to wait for her, for we have had a wonderful spell of fine weather, and the s.h.i.+p is the _ne plus ultra_ of comfort. We are only twelve first-cla.s.s upper-deck pa.s.sengers. The captain is a delightful fellow, with a very charming young wife. There is only one child (a great comfort), a capital cook, and universal civility and quietness. It is like a private house compared to a railway hotel. Six of the pa.s.sengers are invalids, more or less. Mr. Porter, over-worked, going home for health to Ireland; two men, both with delicate chests, and one poor young fellow from Capetown in a consumption, who, I fear, will not outlive the voyage. The doctor is very civil, and very kind to the sick; but I stick to the cook, and am quite greedy over the good fare, after the atrocious food of the Cape.