The Lady of Lynn

"My lord," said the captain, "this is one of my ward's ships, and there is the mate of the ship, Mr. Pentecrosse, at your service."

"At your service, sir," said my lord, from his superior height, and with that cold condescension which I should try in vain to imitate and cannot attempt to set down in words. It is not the voice of authority – every skipper knows what that is and every sailor. It is a manner which is never found except among people of rank. However, I pulled off my hat and bowed low. His lordship took no further notice of me for awhile, but looked about him curiously.

"A strange place," he said. "I have never before been on a ship. Tell me more about this ship, captain."

"She is called The Lady of Lynn. She is three hundred and eighty tons burden, and she is in the Lisbon trade."

"In the Lisbon trade? Captain, neither the amount of her tons nor the nature of her occupation enlightens me in the least."

"She sails from here to Lisbon and back again. She takes out for the Portuguese things that they want – iron, lead, instruments of all kinds, wool, and a great many other things – and she brings back what we want – the wine of the country. She comes laden with port wine, Sack, Malmsey, Canary, Teneriffe, Lisbon, Bacellas, Mountain – in a word, all the wines of Spain and Portugal. My ward is an export and import merchant as well as a shipowner; she fills her ships with wine. The country round Lynn is a thirsty country; the gentlemen of Norfolk, Lincoln, and the Fen countries, not to speak of the University of Cambridge, all drink the wines of Spain and Portugal, and a great deal of it. We send our wine in barges up the river and in waggons across the country; we send our wine to Newcastle and Hull by ships. The trade of Lynn Regis in Spanish and Portuguese wine is very considerable, and most of it is in the hands of my ward."

"This is the Lisbon trade. I begin to understand. And what may such a ship as this be worth?"

"To build her, to rig her, to fit her for sea, to provision her, would cost a matter of £1,500 or £2,000."

"And I suppose she earns something by her voyages?"

The captain smiled.

"She makes two voyages every year; sometimes five in two years. She must first pay her captain and the ship's company; then she must pay for repairs – a woman and a ship, they say, are always wanting repairs – then she must pay for provisions for the crew; there are customs dues and harbour dues at both ends. When all is paid the ship will bring to her owners a profit of £500 or £600. It is a bad year when she does not bring in £600."

His lordship's eyebrows lifted. "How many ships did you say are owned by this fortunate young lady?"

"She has eight. They are not all in the Lisbon trade. Some sail to Norway; some to the Baltic – that is, to Revel and Dantzig – and bring home what you saw on the quay, the turpentine, deal, skins, fur, and so forth."

"Eight ships and a bad year when every single ship does not bring in a profit of £600. Then, Captain Crowle, we may take it that your ward has an income of £4,800 a year."

The captain smiled again. "If it were only that I should not be so anxious about her future. But consider, my lord. For eighteen years she has lived with me – she and her mother – we live in a plain and homely way, according to our station. We are respectable, but not gentle-folk. We live on about £150 a year. The rest is money saved. Some of it is laid out in land. My ward has a good bit of land, here and there, chiefly in marshland, which is fat and fertile; some of it is laid out in houses – a good part of Lynn belongs to her – some of it is lent on mortgage. Since your lordship hath kindly promised to give me your advice on the matter, it is proper to tell you the truth. The girl, therefore, will have an income of over £12,000 a year."

A strange and sudden flush rose to his lordship's cheek; for a few moments he did not reply. Then in a harsh and constrained voice he said: "It is a very large income, captain. Many members of the Upper House have much less. You must be very careful. At six per cent. it is actually £200,000 or thereabouts. You must be very careful."

"I have been, and shall be, very careful. With such a fortune, my lord, may not my girl look high?"

"She may look very high. There are some families which would not admit, even for so great a fortune, a mésalliance, but they are few. There are the jewels, too, of which she wore so many last night. What may they be worth?"

"I do not know. They have been lying in a chest for fifty years and more. They were brought from India by Molly's grandfather, who sailed there, and made the acquaintance of an Indian prince, to whom he rendered some service. They were too grand for him and his wife; and they were too grand for Molly's mother, who is but a homely body. Therefore they have been locked up all this time. Nobody has ever worn them until Molly put them on last night."

"I am a poor judge of such things, but, captain, I believe that what the lady wore last night must be worth a very large sum – a very large sum indeed."

"It may be so. It may be so," said the captain. "There are as many in the box as we took out of it. Well, my lord, will her diamonds add to her attractions?"

"Captain Crowle, no one knows or can understand the extraordinary beauty of a woman who is worth £200,000 and has, besides, diamonds and pearls fit for a duchess. You must, indeed, be very careful."

I who stood beside him humbly, hat in hand, wondered within myself as to what his lordship would say if the captain should suddenly or inadvertently reveal his secret ambitions. Indeed, he looked so commanding and so noble that these ambitions appeared to me ridiculous. I felt happier in thinking that they were ridiculous.

How, indeed, should our girl, who must appear homely to one who knew courts and the charms and splendour of great ladies, attract this cold and fastidious nobleman?

He turned suddenly upon me. "This," he said, "is one of your crew?"

I was dressed in my workaday frieze and shag, and looked, I dare say, to unpractised eyes, more like a fo'k'sle hand than the chief officer.

"It is our mate. I told your lordship before. He is second in command."

"Oh! sir," he said, bowing, a gesture which politeness demanded and difference of rank allowed to be a slight inclination only, "I beg your pardon. The strangeness of this place made me forget. Stay, is not this the – the gentleman who attempted a minuet last night with the fair Miss Molly?"

The question threw me into confusion. The captain answered for me.

"Gad! He did it rarely."

"Rarely, indeed. Well, sir, you are lucky. You dance with the lady; you are in the service of the lady; by faithful service you help to make her rich. What greater marks of favour can Providence bestow upon you?"

I made no answer, because, indeed, I knew not what to reply.

"And now, sir, if you will show me your ship, I shall be obliged to you. Teach me the economy of a merchant man."

I obeyed. We left the captain on deck, and I took him over the whole of the ship. He wanted to see everything; he inspected the two carronades on the quarter-deck and the stand of small arms. I showed him the binnacle and explained how we steered and kept her in her course. I took him below and showed him the lower deck, and let him peer into the hole. He saw the galley and the fo'k'sle, and everything.

I observed that he was extremely curious about all he saw. He wanted to know the value of things; the wages; the cost of provisioning the ship; the purchase and the sale of the cargo. It was wonderful to find a man of his rank so curious as to every point.

"I suppose," he said, "that the old man states the mere facts as to these ships – and the lands – and – and the rest of it."

"No man knows better than the captain," I replied. "He has worked for nearly twenty years for his ward."

"And for himself, as well, I doubt not."

"No, my lord, not for himself. All for his ward. He has taken nothing for himself, though he might have done so. It has been all for his ward."

"A virtuous guardian, truly. Young man, he should be an example to you. Would that there were many guardians so prudent and so careful!"

Then I invited him into the cabin, and showed him how the log is kept, and the ship's course set down day by day. There was nothing which he did not wish to understand.

"I never knew before," he said, "that ships could mean money. Pray, Captain Crowle, could a ship, such as this, be sold and converted into ready money like a forest of oak or a plantation of cedars, or an estate of land?"

"Assuredly, my lord. If I put up The Lady of Lynn for sale to-morrow there would be a score of bids for her here in this town. If I sold her in London she would command a higher price."

"Your ward could, therefore, sell her whole fleet if she chose."

"Her fleet and her business as a merchant, and her lands and her houses and her jewels – she could sell them all."

It seems trifling to set down this conversation, but you will understand in due course the meaning of these questions, and what was in the mind – the corrupt and evil mind – of this deceiver.

"But," he went on, "the ship may be cast away."

"Ay! She may be cast away. Then this lad and the whole of the ship's crew would be drowned. That happens to many tall ships. We sailors take our chance."

"The crew might be drowned. I was thinking, however, of the cargo and the ship."

"Oh! as to them, the underwriters would pay. Underwriters, my lord, are a class of people who, between them, take the risk of ships for a percentage."

"Then under no circumstances, not even that of ship-wreck, or of fire, or of pirates, can the owner lose."

"The underwriters would pay. But look you, my lord, there are risks in every kind of business. There is the cargo. The owner of this ship is also a merchant. She loads a cargo of wine on her own ship; unloads it on her own quay, and sends it about the country to the inn-keepers and the merchants of the towns. They may not want her wine – but they always do. They may not be willing to pay so much as usual, but they generally do. These are our risks. But it is a safe business on the whole – eh, Jack?"

"We have never lost much yet, to my knowledge, captain."

Lord Fylingdale sat down carelessly on the cabin table dangling his leg.

"I have had a most instructive visit, captain. I do not mind the tar on my hands or that on my small clothes, which are ruined. I have learned a great deal. Captain," he added solemnly, "Miss Molly has, beside the charms of her person and her conversation – out of so fine a mouth pearls only – pearls as fine as those around her neck would drop – twelve thousand charms a year. I do not know her equal in London at this moment. The daughter of a retired tallow chandler was spoken of, some time ago – said to have fifty thousand pounds – with a squint. No, sir, Miss Molly in London would take the town by storm."

He paused and fell into a short meditation.

"Jack," said the captain, "there is, I am sure, a bottle in the locker. His lordship must not leave the ship without tasting some of the cargo."

I produced a bottle and glasses.

"Your very best, Jack?"

"The king himself has no better," I replied stoutly, "because no better wine is made."

"I give you a toast, captain," said his lordship. "The fair Miss Molly!"

We drank it with enthusiasm.

"I have this morning learned a great deal. For one who, like myself, proposes to serve his country, all kinds of knowledge are useful – even the smallest details may be important. I have a good memory, and I shall not readily forget the things which you have taught me. We of the Upper House, perhaps, keep too much aloof from the trading interests of the country."

"Your lordship," said the captain, "should present an example of the better way."

"I shall endeavour to do so." He put on his hat and stood up. "Before leaving the ship, Mr. Pentecrosse – you seem to have an honest face – I would exhort you to persevere in faithful service and to deserve the confidence of your employer. I wish you, sir, a successful voyage and many of them." He took a step towards the cabin door, but stopped and turned again to me. "Mr. Pentecrosse, let me add another word of advice. Do not again attempt to enact the part of a fine gentleman. Believe me, sir, the part requires practice and study, unless one is born and brought up a gentleman. Stick to your quarter-deck, friend, and to your ship's log, and leave, for the future, minuets, heiresses, and polite assemblies to your betters."

So saying he walked out of the cabin and climbed down the ladder, followed by the captain. As for me, I stood gaping at the open door, looking, as they say, like a stuck pig, being both ashamed and angry.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE WITCH

All that day I remained in a state of gloom. I was ashamed to think that I had brought ridicule upon Molly by my clumsy dancing, and I was gloomy because I understood that Molly must certainly marry some great man, and that there would be an end of her so far as I was concerned. I was her servant; I was her faithful servant; what could I want more? I was never again to attempt the part of a fine gentleman – and she would live wholly among fine gentlemen. I know now that it was more than the common gloom of humiliation. That I should have thrown off with ease. It was the terror of something evil – the consciousness which seizes the soul without any cause that can be ascertained, and fills it with trembling and with terror. Certain words – harmless words – kept recurring to my mind; words uttered by Lord Fylingdale – "Can a ship be sold like a farm?" or words to that effect. Why did these simple words disturb me? The captain had no thought of selling any of the ships. And why, when I thought of these words, did I also remember the curious change that came over his face when he understood the great wealth of this young heiress? I seemed to see again the strange flush of his pale, cold cheek; I seemed to see a strange smile upon his unbending lips and a strange light in his eyes. There was never, surely, any gentleman with a face so cold and calm as that of my Lord Fylingdale. It was as if a perpetual peace reigned in his mind; as if he was disturbed by none of the passions and emotions of ordinary men. Therefore the smile and the strange look must have been in my imagination only.

Was it possible that the captain's secret prayers were to be granted? They were ambitious prayers. I have heard it said that the Lord sometimes grants to men the thing they most desire in order that they may learn how much better it would have been for them had their prayers been refused. You shall learn how this lesson was driven into my mind – line upon line – precept upon precept. For my own part, while I honestly desired for Molly the best of husbands, the thought of her marrying this cold, stately, proud young nobleman filled me with pity.

And I must tell you, moreover, of a strange thing. It happened some three or four years before these events, but I have never forgotten it.

It is connected with Molly's black woman whom we called Nigra. Like all black women she was esteemed a witch. In earlier times she would have been burned at the stake for her magic and sorcery. Yet she was only a white witch, as they call them; it was very well known that she worked no mischief and cast no spells. Nobody was afraid of her. If a child fell into fits the mother, so far from thinking Nigra to be the cause, brought her to the black woman to be cured. Nobody could look at her kindly, wrinkled old face, which was always smiling through her white teeth; nobody could see those smiles upon her face, which shone in the sun as if it was of burnished metal; nobody could talk with her, I say, and believe that she was of the malignant stuff that makes the witch of the village. She had a great reputation for telling fortunes; she could show girls their future husbands; she could find out lucky days for them, and tell them how to avoid unlucky days; she could make charms to be hung round the necks of infants which would keep them from croup, fits, and convulsions, and carry them safely through measels and whooping cough. She had sovereign remedies against toothache, chilblains, earache, growing pains, agues, fevers, and all the diseases of boys and girls, and with the ailments which fall upon the maids, such as megrims, headache, swoonings, giddiness, vapours, and melancholy. It was believed that even Dr. Worship himself could not compare with this black woman from the Guinea coast.

One evening, long before the events that I am relating, I surprised her while she was engaged in her harmless spells and magic rites. It was in the kitchen, where she sat alone at a table before the fire. There was no candle, and the red light of the blazing coal made her face shine like copper and her eyes like two flames, and transformed her red cloth turban into rich crimson velvet. She had on the table before her a string of shells, a monkey's skull – but it looked like the skull of a baby – a thick round stick, painted with lines of red and blue, two or three rags of cloth, a cocoanut shell cut in two to make a cup, and many other tools or instruments which I forget; and, indeed, it matters nothing, because no one would be any the wiser if I set down the whole furniture of this old sorceress.

She was bending over the table, arranging in some kind of order these mysterious means for learning the future, and murmuring the while gibberish of the kind which serves these poor blacks for their language. She was so busy that she did not hear my footsteps, till I stole behind her and clapped both my hands over her eyes.

Then she jumped up with a shriek, letting her magical tools drop, and turned round. "Shoo!" she cried, bursting into a laugh. "Shoo! It's Massa Jack. I thought it was de debble come to look on." This was the way she talked. I believe that if you take a negro as a baby and bring him up with Christians, so that he hears no word of his own gibberish, in the end he will always speak in this way. It is part of his nature; it is one of the things which belong to his race – wool instead of hair; black skin instead of white; thick speech instead of clear; the shin rounded instead of the calf; a projecting heel, and a big jaw with white, strong teeth.

"Does the devil often come here, Nigra?"

"Massa Jack," she replied, with as much solemnity as she could command, "don't you nebber ask if the debble comes here."

"What is he like, Nigra?"

She sat down and began to laugh. She laughed till her mouth nearly reached her ears; she laughed till her turban nodded and shook, and her shoulders shook, and she shook all over. She laughed, I know not why. "What he like? Ho! Ho! Ho! Massa Jack – what he like?"

"Well, but, Nigra, tell me how you know him when you see him."

"Massa Jack," she became serious as suddenly as she had fallen into her fit of laughter. "Look ye here. When you see de debble – then you know de debble." So saying, she turned to the table again and began to gather up her unholy possessions.

"Well, but Nigra, I am not the devil, and so you may as well tell me whose fortune you are telling."

"Missy's fortune."

"What is it?"

She shook her head. "Can't tell you, Massa Jack. Mustn't tell you."

"Why not? Come, Nigra, you know that I desire the very best fortune for her that can be given to any one."

She hesitated. Then she laid her hand on mine. "Massa Jack," she said, "I tell her fortune your people's way, by the cards, and my people's way, by the gri-gri and the skull. It's always the same fortune."

"What is it?"

"Always the same. They say – trouble for Missy – great big trouble – she dunno yet what trouble is. Bimeby she find out, and then all de trouble go – like as if de sun come out and de rain leave off. All the same fortune."

"I don't understand it at all, Nigra. Why should trouble come to Miss Molly?"

"Cards don' tell that. Sometimes, Jack, de head" – she laid her hand on the skull of the monkey, or was it the skull of a child? – "de head tells me things. Befo' you come in de head was talking fine. He say, 'Lose to gain; lose to gain. Him no good. Bimeby bery fine man come along.' Dat's what de head said to-night."

"Nonsense, Nigra – a fleshless skull cannot speak."

"Dat's what de head say to me dis night," she replied, doggedly.

I looked at the skull, but it remained silent, grinning with the dreadful mockery of the death's head.

"Bimeby – bery fine man come along," Nigra repeated.

I laughed incredulous. Then she laid her hand upon my eyes for a moment – only for a moment. "Listen, then."

It was like a voice far away. I opened my eyes again. Before me sat, or stood unsupported, the skull, and nothing else. The room had vanished, Nigra and her tools and everything. The eyes of the skull were filled with a bright light, and the teeth moved, and the thing spoke. It said: "Lose to gain! Lose to gain! By and by a better man will come."

I shivered and shook. I shut my eyes for the brightness of the light. I opened them again immediately. Everything was as before; the old black woman beside me at the table; the skull and the rest of the things; the red light of the fire.

"Nigra," I cried, "what have you done? You are a witch."

"What did de skull say, Massa Jack?"

"How did you do it? What does it mean?" To this day I know not how she contrived this witchcraft.

She would talk no more, however. I suppose she read the signs and tokens according to the rules of her witchcraft, and knew no more. I am not one of those who believe that these black women can penetrate the clouds of the future and can foresee, that is, see clearly, before they happen, the things that are coming. It would be too much to expect of a mere black. Why should Providence, who has manifestly created the black man to be the slave of the white, confer upon the black woman so great a gift as that of prophecy? It is not credible.

All that day, after Lord Fylingdale climbed down by the rope ladder, I kept hearing over again the words of the black woman, which came back to me, though I had long forgotten them, "By and by. By and by, a better man will come."

Some there are who laugh at these things, which they call superstitions. I have heard my father and the vicar arguing learnedly that the time for witchcraft has passed away, with that of miracles, demoniac possessions, and the casting out of devils. Well, it is not for me to speak of things that belong to the landsman. There may be no such thing as witchcraft; there may be no overlooking; the moon and the planets cannot, perhaps, strike children. But as for what the sailor believes – why, he knows. All the Greek and all the Hebrew in the world will not shake out of his mind what he knows. He learns new knowledge with every voyage, and new experience with every gale, and when those words of poor old Nigra came back to me, and would not leave me, keeping up a continual sing-song in my head, I knew very well, indeed, that some trouble was brewing – and that the trouble had to do with Molly.

CHAPTER XIX

A TRUE FRIEND

When Molly came out of church after morning prayers she stood in the porch to see the company pass out. It was a fashionable company, consisting entirely of ladies who came from the pump room to hear the Reverend Benjamin Purdon, locum tenens for the curate of St. Nicholas, read the prayers of the morning service. This he did with an impressiveness quite overwhelming, having a deep and musical voice, which he would roll up and down like the swelling notes of an organ, insomuch that some ladies wept every morning, while he pronounced the absolution with so much weight that every sinner present rose from her knees in the comfortable faith that her sins were absolved and washed away, and that she could now begin a new series of sins upon a clean slate. Happy condition, when without penance, which the papists enforce; and without repentance, which is demanded by the Protestant faith, a sinner can every morning wipe off the sins of the last twenty-four hours and so begin another day with a robe as white as snow, no sins upon their conscience, and a sure and certain hope. "Let us accept," said this reverend divine, "with gratitude and joy all that Holy Church gives us; above all, her absolution. We have not the sins of yesterday to weigh us down together with the sins of to-day. Madam, your silk apron becomes you highly, pink silk with silver matches the colour of your cheeks. It is the colour of Venus herself, I vow. Ah! there are moments when I could wish I was not an ecclesiastic!"