Joshua Marvel

Shortly after the death of Mr. Taylor the Old Sailor came to see the children. He did not know of the loss they had sustained; and when he heard that both father and mother were dead, he was much grieved. The news so disconcerted him that he rose to go three or four times, and each time sat down again, as if he had something on his mind he wished to get rid of first. As a proof that he was mentally disturbed, he dabbed his face more frequently than usual with his blue-cotton pocket-handkerchief, folding it up carefully before he put it in the breast of his shirt, as if he were folding up his secret in it, and afterwards taking it out and unfolding it, as if he had made up his mind at last to disclose what that secret was. When he found courage to speak, Dan learned that the bullfinches which Joshua and he had presented to the Old Sailor were dead.

"Died yesterday morning, my lad," said the Old Sailor; "died just as we were beginning to understand each other. Sailor birds they were, and they could climb ropes as well as any bird in the service."

"I am sorry they are dead, sir," said Dan; "but I can give you another pair."

"No, Dan, no. I'll not have any more; they wouldn't be safe."

"Not safe?"

"There was a mutineer in the crew, my lad," said the Old Sailor, dropping his voice. "It comes awkward for me to tell you; but you ought to know-and duty before every thing. The pretty birds were poisoned."

"Who could have been so cruel as to poison the innocent creatures?" asked Dan sorrowfully.

"That damned copper-colored eon of a thief who cooked for me!" replied the Old Sailor excitedly. "You saw him when you were on my ship. He had rings in his ears."

"I remember. He was a Lascar, you told us."

"The treacherous dog!" exclaimed the Old Sailor wrathfully, dabbing his face. "But I did what was right to him. I flogged him with a rope's end till he couldn't stand."

"He knew that Joshua gave you the birds, sir?"

"Ay, he knew it. To tell you the truth, my lad, I christened the birds Josh and Dan, and used to call them by their names. They were as sensible as human beings, and I gave them decent burial. I sewed them in canvas, and weighted it with shot, and slipped it off a plank. I'll not have any more of them, Dan. That lubberly thief would crawl on board one night and murder them too. No, no, my lad; no more birds for me."

"Well, then, I'll tell you what we'll do," said Dan. "I will give you another pair of birds, and I will keep them for you, and you will come here sometimes and see how they are getting along. That's a good idea, isn't it, sir?"

The Old Sailor admitted that it was, and thus it fell out that he became a visitor to the house. Dan bought a toy ship, with sails and masts and slender ropes all complete, and taught the birds to climb the ropes and masts, which they did deftly, although not in sailor fashion, hand-over-hand; and his thoughtful conceit filled the Old Sailor with infinite delight.

It was Susan's good fortune not to meet the Lascar for many months after the eventful occurrence in which Joshua had played so prominent a part. But one evening, when she and Ellen were returning home, she met him face to face.

"Stop!" cried the Lascar, noticing Susan's agitation with secret pleasure. "You don't forget me, do you?"

Ellen, raising her eyes, saw and recognized the Lascar, and was recognized by him at the same moment.

"Ah!" he said, "I remember you. You came one day with a lame boy and that young thief Joshua Marvel-curse him! – to see Mr. Meddler's boat."

Ellen tried to hurry Susan along, but the Lascar stood directly in their path.

"Not yet, my beauty. You are about the prettiest girl I've ever seen. What's your name?"

Ellen was not so overcome with fear as to entirely lose her self-possession. Had she been alone, she would have run away. But Susan was clinging to her, almost fainting with terror. On the opposite side of the road she saw a man walking towards them.

"Help!" she cried; but she could have bitten her lip with vexation when she found that it was Solomon Fewster who responded to her appeal. However, there Solomon Fewster was, ready to grapple with the enemy and to die in Ellen's defence. The occasion for a display of heroism was as good as he could have desired.

"Where is he?" he cried valiantly; "where's the villain who has dared to frighten my pretty Ellen?"

He said this with such a presumptuous air of being her defender by natural right, that Ellen was annoyed and displeased. But she could not be uncivil to him. She thanked him for coming to their help, and he asked to be allowed to see them home. But Ellen refused, and although he pleaded hard, she was firm.

She was especially angry because of his calling her his pretty Ellen. Glad as she would have been of a protector, she rightly thought that it would be giving Mr. Fewster encouragement if she allowed him to assume that office. So, with many distressingly-tender protestations, he took his departure, congratulating himself upon the adventure, and Susan and Ellen walked homewards.

Ellen was very anxious to know all about the Lascar, and why Susan was frightened at him. Susan told her all, and Ellen's face glowed with delight at Joshua's courage.

"Brave Joshua!" she exclaimed. "Isn't he a hero, Susan?"

Notwithstanding that she had not recovered from her fright at meeting the Lascar, Susan could not help smiling at Ellen's enthusiasm.

"He was to be away a year," said Ellen, "and it is now two years and four months."

"And how many weeks, and how many days, and how many hours?" interrupted Susan, half gayly. "You could tell, I dare say. Ellen, couldn't you, if you were put to it?" Ellen looked shyly at Susan. "What a change he will find in you, my dear!" Susan continued tenderly. "In the place of a plain little girl he will find a very pretty woman."

"O Susey! calling me a woman!"

"Well, you are, dear, or you will be when he comes back. I wonder" -

But Susan did not say what it was she wondered at, but stopped, most unaccountably, in the middle of the street and kissed Ellen in a motherly kind of way. The caress set Ellen a-blushing, and she fell into a state of happy musing. They were very near home when a voice at their side said, -

"You thought you had escaped me, eh?"

It was the voice of the Lascar, who had dogged them until he found an opportunity of speaking to them without attracting attention. Their hearts beat fast, but they did not turn their heads.

"Don't say a word," whispered Ellen, "don't speak, don't stop, don't look! We shall be home directly."

"So Joshua Marvel hasn't come back yet," he said with bitter emphasis. "He is a long time gone; but wait till he comes. I go every day to see the cross I put against him, and it grows brighter and brighter. I curse him every night. Perhaps he thinks that I forget. He shall see if I do." He gasped this at intervals, for the girls were now almost running in their terror. "Tell him," hissed the Lascar, "when he comes that that I poisoned at old thief's birds because Joshua gave them to him, and because the old thief used to call one of them by his name. Curse him! And you!" he exclaimed savagely, touching Susan's arm. "See you-remember! My shadow follows you from this day, you damned witch! for it was because of you that he came across me. Oh, you live there, do you? Dream of my shadow, you cat, to-night. It shall stand at your bedside. Blot it out if you can."

He had worked himself into a horrible rage; his passion made a madman of him; yet he did not attempt to stop them as they darted in at the door, but stood aside and looked at the house, and marked it and lingered about it for half an hour afterwards. In the mean time Ellen and Susan had run into their bedroom and locked the door. It was a long time before they recovered from their agitation. Susan was in an agony of terror; all her old fears came with stronger force upon her. She pressed her fingers upon her eyes and threw herself upon the ground, shuddering and moaning.

"Do you see his shadow, Ellen?" she moaned. "Do you see it?"

"There is nothing in the room but you and me, dear Susey," said Ellen, smoothing Susan's hair, and striving by every means to soothe her. "Why, I am braver than you, and I am ever so much younger. What have we to be afraid of? A drunken man! You stupid Susey! And as for shadows, who believes in them?"

"I do. I have seen them and felt them. I have heard them creeping after me in the dark, and I have been frightened to turn. I have felt their breath upon my face-and it is like death-like death!"

All Ellen's efforts to tranquillize her were unavailing. Susan did not leave her room again that evening, and during the night that followed she awoke a dozen times, and her fevered imagination conjured up the shadow of the Lascar standing at her bedside, pointing to a cross of blood which shone with cruel distinctness in the midst of the darkness.

CHAPTER XV

SOLOMON FEWSTER GIVES THE LASCAR A FLOWER

Early in the new year letters from Joshua reached home. With what joy they were read! In one of them he wrote: "I remember saying that I should be home in twelve months; but that time has passed, and another twelve months, and nearly another, and still there is no talk of returning. If I stay away much longer you won't know me when you see me. Upon my word, I think if I were to open the door now and walk in suddenly, you would be puzzled to know whether I was really myself or somebody else."

When they read this they all raised their heads and looked towards the door, wishing that Joshua would turn the handle and walk into the room.

The evening of the day on which the letters arrived was spent in grand state in Dan's house. Every member of the Marvel family was there, and the Old Sailor, and Solomon Fewster as well; so that the little parlor was quite full, and all the chairs had to be brought from the bedroom and the kitchen to provide seats for the company. The letters were read aloud, and commented upon and rejoiced over.

"It isn't as good as Joshua's being here," said Dan, looking round with a happy face; "but it is next door to it. I tell you what pleases me almost as much as any thing in the letters-it is that Jo's a favorite with the men. Hear what he says: 'I play to them on my accordion two or three times a week, and according to them I am a splendid musician-which I am not, you know, for I only play simple tunes. Last week the captain sent for me and told me that some passengers who were on board wanted to dance, and wished me to play for them. Of course I fetched the accordion at once. You should have seen us! I played for them twice after that night; and yesterday when we arrived at Sydney-Oh, Dan such a lovely place, with such a bay! – they gave me a sovereign, which I put into Ellen's purse. Tell Ellen that!'"

A blush came into Ellen's face, and her heart beat more quickly, when she heard that Joshua was so careful of the purse she had worked for him.

Filled with such like matter, the letters could not fail to be a source of delight. Dan was commissioned to give Joshua's love to Ellen, and Ellen was asked to pay a visit to the Old Sailor, and to tell him that Joshua was doing hie duty. Susan received messages for Basil and Minnie, and was to tell Minnie that Joshua would bring her some beautiful shells-"shells in which Minnie can hear the waves singing to each other in whispers," Joshua wrote, almost poetically.

Minnie, sitting in her corner, scarcely spoke a word; she was thinking of the sailor-lad who had been so kind to her, and she was looking with the eyes of her mind upon the picture which Dan had painted of Joshua, with his handsome face and free waving hair, standing on the deck, and laughingly shaking the spray from his eyes.

The Old Sailor nodded approval as the letters were read, and then traced Joshua's course on a map which he had brought with him, stopping many times to tell the eager on-lookers of the wonders and the glories of the beautiful South Pacific. The map was spread on the table, and it was not an unattractive picture to see them all clustered round the Old Sailor, peeping over his shoulders and under his arms, as with his great forefinger he followed the ship from port to port. Mrs. Marvel, who had taken to spectacles, found them of but little use to her on this occasion, for the obstinate tears came into her eyes and dropped into the ocean which the Old Sailor's forefinger was ploughing. Minnie leaned over Dan's shoulder, and the table was so small that she had to put her arm round Dan's neck and to put her face close to his, so that she might see. A strange feeling of happiness came upon Dan as her cheek nestled close to his; a feeling of happiness so exquisite that all his senses were merged in it. The common parlor, the eager faces peering at the map, the pleasant voice of the Old Sailor explaining the route, all faded from before him, and he was conscious of nothing but Minnie's presence. He felt the warm contact of a soft hand; it was Minnie's hand, which in her eager abstraction she had placed on his. He folded it in his, and she allowed it to rest there. It was like a dream. He feared to move and held his breath lest he should awake. A sudden murmur of voices-voices that sounded for a moment as if they came from afar off-aroused him; he looked into Minnie's face, and saw it lighted up with a happiness that seemed to be a reflex of his own; and as she turned her eyes to his, so luminous a beauty dwelt in them that he could have fallen at her feet and worshipped her. But the dream was at an end-the blissful silence which had encompassed him was invaded. Minnie had returned to her corner, and his friends were speaking together, and laughing and appealing to him upon some point which he had not heard. Dan still felt the warm pressure of Minnie's hand and the soft contact of her cheek; and unobserved he rested his lips upon the palm which had clasped hers, and kissed it softly and wonderingly.

There was only one person in the party who did not feel happy. That one was Solomon Fewster. Directly he entered the room he had been greeted with the joyful tidings; and understanding that he was expected to share in the general excitement of pleasure, he professed a delight which he did not experience. That afternoon he had purchased a rare flower, which it was his intention to present to Ellen. He had brooded over the idea for several days, and had decided that it would be a good thing to do. As he entered the room with the flower in the button-hole of his coat, he was already primed with a few complimentary words which he had learned by heart to say to Ellen, when he presented his gift. Ellen had never before looked so pretty, he thought. Her eyes were brighter, and there was a more joyous animation than usual in her manner. She greeted him with a smile so much more gracious than he was accustomed to receive from her, that he congratulated himself upon the purchase of the flower. She gave him her hand with more than her usual warmth, and when he ventured gently to press it, she did not resent the liberty. The fact was, she did not notice it. She was full of joy, and, as is the case with all amiable natures, she dispensed gleams of her happiness to all with whom she came in contact. Unless we are too much engrossed in our own special cares, we sometimes meet with such like happy faces in the streets-faces which seem to say, "We are happy; be happy with us" – faces which, although quite strange to us, which we have never seen before and may never see again, will kindle with a smile of welcome upon the smallest encouragement.

But Solomon Fewster was terribly discomfited when he learned the reason of her cheerfulness and animation; it was because letters had been received from Joshua. He determined not to present his flower just then, for he read something in Ellen's blushes that sorely galled him. He could not help thinking that the fuss they were making about a common sailor-boy, and the laughing and the crying they indulged in over Joshua's stupid letters, were utterly ridiculous, and in a sort of way derogatory to himself, Dan's best patron.

As the night wore on, his anger and uneasiness increased; and yet he lingered until the last moment, torturing himself with all kinds of speculations as to what was the nature of the feeling that Ellen entertained for Joshua. Every expression of gladness that fell from her lips concerning Joshua and Joshua's career was painful to him, and it was with a bitter heart that he left the house, with the flower still in his coat. He was hot and feverish as he closed the street-door behind him, and he was not sorry to find that a heavy rain was falling. He took off his hat and bared his head to the rain. Within the house he had been compelled to repress expression of his feelings; it was a relief to him now to feel that no one was by, and that he could speak out at last. And the first words he uttered, as he smoothed his wet hair and put on his hat, were, "Damn Joshua Marvel! I would give money to drown him!" As he spoke the words aloud, he was conscious of a slouching figure at his side. Although it was raining, the night was not quite dark there was enough light for him to notice that the man who had approached him was in rags-most probably a beggar. Muttering that he had nothing to give, Solomon Fewster walked on. But the man was not to be so easily shaken off, and Mr. Fewster being in an eminently quarrelsome mood turned upon him, and repeated in no civil tone that he had nothing to give.

"I have not asked you for any thing," said the man, surlily, "though if I had, you might speak to me more civilly, Mr. Fewster."

They were passing a lamp-post, and, attracted by the utterance of his name, Mr. Fewster stopped and said, -

"How do you know my name?"

"I know it; that is enough," was the answer.

"Ah!" said Mr. Fewster, regarding the Lascar with curiosity and recognizing him, "I have seen you before, my man."

"That is not saying much against me, master," said the Lascar, rather sneeringly. "I have seen you before; so we're equal.

"And whenever I have seen you, it has been in this street," continued Mr. Fewster.

"And pretty well whenever I have seen you, it has been in this street," retorted the Lascar; "you seem to be as fond of it as I am."

"And generally of a night."

"The same to you master; and what then? The street is free to me as it is to you. Look you. I know more than you are aware of. If it comes to that, why do you go so often to that house?" The sudden look of discomposure that flashed into Mr. Fewster's face was not lost upon the Lascar, who had seen him walking by Ellen's side more than once, and who had stealthily followed them on every occasion. "Look you, master. What one man does for love, another man does for hate."

"Hate of whom? What do you mean?"

"The people in that house have received letters from Joshua Marvel to-day."

"Well, what of that?"

"What of that!" cried the Lascar, in a voice of suppressed passion, and yet with a cunning watchfulness of Mr. Fewster's face, as if he were watching for a cue to speak more plainly. "Well, nothing much, master; except that I should like to know when the cub is coming home."

Mr. Fewster could not help an expression of satisfaction passing into his eyes as he heard Joshua spoken of as a cub, and the Lascar saw it and took his cue from it.

"What do you want to know for? What is Joshua Marvel to you?"

"He is this to me," cried the Lascar, the dark blood rushing into his face and making it darker; "that if I had him here, I would stamp upon him with my feet, and spoil his beauty for him! He is this to me, that if I could twist his heart-strings I would do it, and laugh in his face the while! See me now, master; look at me well. I did not ask you for money, for I know you, and I know you don't give nothing for nothing. But I might have asked you, and with reason, for I want it. Look at my feet" (Mr. Fewster noticed, for the first time, that the Lascar's feet were bare); "Look at my clothes-rags. That old thief, Praiseworthy Meddler, kicked me off his barge where I've lived and slept this many a year. And every blow he struck at me went down to Joshua Marvel's account, and makes it heavier against him. See you; the Lascar dog never forgets. I've sworn an oath, and I'll keep it. I've put a cross against him, and he shall see it when he is dying."

Solomon Fewster looked at the wretch before him, quivering with passion and shivering with cold, and deliberately cracked his fingers one after another. When the operation was concluded, he said, lightly, as taking no interest in what the Lascar had said, -

"That is your business, my friend; not mine. I will tell you as far as I know about this young gentleman who has served you so well. He is not coming home yet a while, I believe-not before the end of the year, perhaps. I dare say you'll manage to see him when he does come home."

"Yes, I'll manage to see him then," said the Lascar, with a sudden quietude of manner and with a furtive rook at Mr. Fewster's face-a look which said, "You are trying to deceive me, master; let us see who is the more cunning-you or I." Then aloud, "Thank you for answering my question. You say it is not your business, this hate of mine for Joshua Marvel. Yet there may be something in common between us for I've seen you walking with the girl who worships Joshua Marvel."

"How do you know that she worships him?" demanded Mr. Fewster, thrown off his guard, his heart beating loud and fast.

"Because I am not blind. I know that as well as I know that you have as much cause to hate him as I have. I am like a cat; I watch and watch. You are too young, my master, to mask your face; and I have seen that in it that you wouldn't like to speak."

"Mind what you are saying," said Mr. Fewster, with his knuckles at his teeth; "you are on dangerous ground."

"Why should I mind?" questioned the Lascar, with a curious mixture of fierceness and humility in his voice. "My tongue's my own. I have nothing to lose: judge you if you have any thing to gain. Mind you, I stop at nothing. I am not squeamish. You are a gentleman; I am a vagabond. I can do what you daren't. I can help you to what you want, perhaps; and you can help me."

The cunning of the Lascar was too deep for Mr. Fewster. The Lascar saw as clearly as if he had been told that Solomon Fewster loved Ellen Taylor, and he seized instinctively upon Ellen's love for Joshua as the lever by which he was to gain power over Mr. Fewster. In the present conversation the men were not evenly matched; the Lascar had all the advantage on his side. Subtle as Mr. Fewster was, his love blinded his judgment, and his hate led him to consider that this man might be useful to him.

"I can help you, you tell me," he said. "How?"

"I am cold to the bone," said the shivering wretch. "Treat me to some rum."

They walked until they reached a public-house; then Mr. Fewster gave the Lascar money.

"Go in and drink, but don't get drunk."

"Ain't you coming in, master?"

"No," said Mr. Fewster, with a look of contempt at the Lascar's tatters. "You can buy a bottle of rum, and bring it out with you. And mind, when you come out, don't walk by my side; follow me."

Five minutes afterwards they were walking in single file towards Mr. Fewster's place of business, where he lived. When they arrived at the door, Mr. Fewster hesitated. He wanted to talk to the Lascar, to get out of him all he knew about Ellen and Joshua; yet, looking at the Lascar, he hesitated. The man divined what was in his mind, and said, -

"There is a policeman coming along on the other side of the way. Go to him and say, 'Look at this man; I have occasion to speak to him on a matter of business; but he is a disreputable dog, and I want you to watch the house. Knock in an hour, and if I don't answer, or if you hear any noise, force open the door.' Say that to him, or something like it, and give him a pint of beer, and you will be all right."

"Come along," said Mr. Fewster, stung by the Lascar's quiet sneer; "I am not frightened of you."

"You have no need to be, master. You can use me like a dog, if you give me to eat and drink."

"Like a dog!" echoed Mr. Fewster, with a laugh. "Well, suppose I regard you in that light; it may be useful."

Mr. Fewster struck a light in the shop, in which there were at least a score of coffins-respectable coffins, solemnly black as coffins should be, with respectable nails to match.