Charles Lever - Confessions Of Con Cregan, the Irish Gil Blas

“‘What’s that?’ cried the lieutenant.

“‘Felborg, sir, mate of the watch,’ said I, standing fast where I was. ‘It’s shoaling fast ahead, sir.’

“‘D – n!’ said he, ‘what a coast!’

“‘Could n’t you say a bit of something better than that?’ said I, getting nearer to him slowly.

“‘What do you mean?’ said he, jumping up angrily; but he was scarce on his legs when he was down again at his full length on the plank, with a bullet through his brain, never to move again!”

“There, there, avast with that tale; you’ve told it to me every night that my heart was heavy this twelvemonth past. But I ‘ve hit on a way to save the lad, – will you help me?”

“Ay, if my help does n’t bring bad luck on him; it always has on every one I befriended since – since – ”

“Never mind that. There ‘s no risk here, nor much room for luck, good or bad.” He paused a second or two, then added, —

“I ‘m thinking we can’t do better than shove him ashore on the island yonder.”

“On Anticosti!” said Felborg, with a shudder.

“Ay, why not? There’s always a store of biscuit and fresh water in the log-houses, and the cruisers touch there every six or seven weeks to take people off. He has but to hoist the flag to show he ‘s there.”

“There’s no one there now,” said the Dane.

“No. I saw the flag-staff bare yesterday; but what does that matter? A few days or a few weeks alone are better than what’s in store for him here.”

“I don’t think so. No! Beym alia Deyvelm! I ‘d stand the bullet at three paces, but I ‘d not meet that negro chap alone.”

“Oh, he’s dead and gone this many a year,” said Halkett. “When the ‘Rodney’ transport was wrecked there, two years last fall, they searched the island from end to end, and could n’t find a trace of him. They were seven weeks there, and it’s pretty clear if he were alive – ”

“Ay, just so, – if he were alive!”

“Nonsense, man! You don’t believe those yarns they get up to frighten the boys in the cook’s galley?”

“It’s scarce mercy, to my reckoning,” said Felborg, “to take the lad from a quick and short fate, and leave him yonder; but if you need my help, you shall have it.”

“That’s enough,” said Halkett; “go on deck, and look after the boat. None of our fellows will betray us; and in the morning we ‘ll tell Sir Dudley that he threw himself overboard in the night, in a fit of frenzy. He’ll care little whether it’s true or false.”

“I say, Con – Con, my lad,” said Halkett, as soon as the other had mounted the ladder. “Wake up, my boy; I’ve something to tell you.”

“I know it,” said I, wishing to spare time, which I thought might be precious; “I’ve been dreaming all about it.”

“Poor fellow, his mind is wandering,” muttered Halkett to himself. “Come, my lad, try and put on your clothes, – here’s your jacket;” and with that he lifted me from my hammock, and began to help me to dress.

“I was dreaming, Halkett,” said I, “that Sir Dudley sent me adrift in the punt, and fired at me with the swivel, but that you rowed out and saved me.”

“That’s just it!” said Halkett, with an energy that showed how the supposed dream imposed upon him.

“You put me ashore on Anticosti, Halkett,” said I; “but wasn’t that cruel! – the Black Boatswain is there.”

“Never fear the Black Boatswain, my lad, he ‘s dead years ago; and it strikes me you ‘ll steer a course in life where old wives’ tales never laid down the soundings.”

“I can always be brave when I want it, Halkett,” said I, letting out a bit of my peculiar philosophy; but I saw he didn’t understand my speech, and I went on with my dressing in silence.

Halkett meanwhile continued to give me advice about the island, and the log-houses, and the signal-ensign; in fact, about all that could possibly concern my safety and speedy escape, concluding with a warning to me, never to divulge that anything but a mere accident had been the occasion of my being cast away. “This for your own sake and for mine too, Con,” said he; “for one day or other he,” – he pointed to the after-cabin, – “he’d know it, and then it would fare badly with some of us.”

“Why not come too, Halkett?” said I; “this life is as hateful to you as to myself.”

“Hush, boy; no more of that,” said he, with a degree of emotion which I had never witnessed in him before. “Make yourself warm and snug, for you mustn’t take any spare clothes, or you ‘d be suspected by whoever takes you off the island; here’s my brandy-flask and a tinder-box; that’s a small bag of biscuit, – for you ‘ll take six or seven hours to reach the log-house, – and here is a pistol, with some powder and ball. Come along, now, or shall I carry you up the ladder?”

“No, I’m able enough now,” said I, making an effort to seem free from pain while I stepped up on deck.

I was not prepared for the affectionate leave-taking which met me here; each of the crew shook my hand twice or thrice over, and there was not one did not press upon me some little gift in token of remembrance.

At last the boat was lowered, and Halkett and three others, descending noiselessly, motioned to me to follow. I stepped boldly over the side, and, waving a last good-bye to those above, sat down in the stern to steer, as I was directed.

It was a calm night, with nothing of a sea, save that rolling heave ever present in the Gulf-stream; and now the men stretched to their oars, and we darted swiftly on, not a word breaking the deep stillness.

Although the island lay within six miles, we could see nothing of it against the sky, for the highest point is little more than twelve feet above the water-level.

I have said that nothing was spoken as we rowed along over the dark and swelling water; but this silence did not impress me till I saw ahead of us the long low outline of the dreary island shutting out the horizon; then a sensation of sickening despair came over me. Was I to linger out a few short hours of life on that melancholy spot, and die at last exhausted and broken-hearted? “Was this to be the end of the brilliant dream I had so often revelled in?” “Ah, Con!” said I, “to play the game of life, a man must have capital to stand its losses, – its runs of evil fortune; but you are ruined with one bad deal!”

“Run her in here, in this creek!” cried Halkett to the men; and the boat glided into a little bay of still water under the lee of the land, and then, after about twenty minutes’ stout rowing, her keel grated on the rugged, shingly shore of Anticosti.

“We cannot land you dry-shod, Con,” said Halkett; “it shoals for some distance here.”

“No matter,” said I, trying to affect an easy, jocular air, my choking throat and swelling heart made far from easy; “for me to think of wet feet would be like the felon at the drop blowing the froth off the porter because it was unwholesome!”

“I ‘ve better hopes of you than that comes to, lad!” said he; “but good-bye! good-bye!” He shook my hand with a grasp like a vice, and sat down with his back towards me; the others took a kind farewell of me; and then, shouldering my little bag of biscuit, I pressed my cap down over my eyes, and stepped into the surf. It was scarcely more than over mid-leg, but the clay-like, spongy bottom made it tiresome walking. I had only gone a few hundred yards, when a loud cheer struck me; I turned: it was the boat’s crew, giving me a parting salute. I tried to answer it, but my voice failed me; the next moment they had turned the point, and I saw them no more!

I now plodded wearily on, and in about half an hour reached the land; and whether from weariness, or some strange instinct of security on touching shore, I know not, but I threw myself heavily down upon the shingly stones, and slept soundly, – ay, and dreamed too! dreamed of fair lands far away, such as I have often read of in books of travels, where bright flowers and delicious fruits were growing, and where birds and insects of gaudiest colors floated past with a sweet murmuring song that made the air tremble.