Читать книгу Her Assigned Husband - Ambrose Pratt - Страница 7

Table of Contents

Sir Harry Blessington rode at Mrs. Sherwin's right hand, John Morcan at her left. Behind them straggled a large ungainly coach, filled with serving women and drawn by four stout cobs; three carts loaded with impedimenta, and some fifteen horsemen, of whom four were laborers and the remainder convict probationers.

Not a face but was smiling or pleasantly excited as they left the confines of the town. Mrs. Sherwin was conscious of a deep elation, a feeling of unbounded pride to be the captain of a rare adventure, the mistress of so many destinies. Her maid-servants were thrilled by the novelty of their situation, charmed by the brightness of the morning, and deliciously expectant of discovering romance in the unknown about to be explored. The men-servants, one and all, tingled with the knowledge that they had just entered a service which was to be requited with a wage beyond experience. They were persons of good character, selected, and recommended to Mrs. Sherwin by the Governor, and each carried a contract in his pocket that promised to make him eventually a man of substance provided he fulfilled its terms. Sir Harry Blessington felt joyous because his cousin had been more kind to him that morning than since the Vansittart left England, and she seemed disposed to continue being kind.

And finally, John Morcan was glad because he had got up before daylight to witness the execution of a criminal, and the wretch had screamed his way to the scaffold, and had struggled madly on the drop. A most reputable man was John Morcan, and the Governor, in giving him to Mrs. Sherwin, could not easily have furnished stronger proof of his consideration for her interests. Born at Trinidad, and educated in Jamaica, John Morcan had spent his youth superintending a great cotton plantation in Virginia, where he developed a fair talent for handling and controlling slaves. Subsequently he had actively embarked his fortunes in the slave trade, but fate had proved unkind, and he had been picked up off the African coast, the sole survivor of a wreck, by the frigate which had carried his Excellency to Australia. In Sydney he had entered the Government service as overseer at a Convict sheep farm, and, to the astonishment of all concerned, he had made the State undertaking a pronounced success, where it had previously been a dismal failure and a drain upon the revenue. On learning his history, Mrs. Sherwin conceived a vague notion of attracting the man to her employ, but as soon as she saw his face, her negligent intention matured into a fixed resolve. The Governor had resisted her pleading for a full week, being most unwilling to lose a careful officer, and one in whom he placed implicit trust; but Mrs. Sherwin was not a woman easy to deny when she had set her heart upon a thing, and eventually she got her way. Her first difficulty was the only one. John Morcan assented to the transfer immediately he heard that she desired to make him responsible for the comfort and conduct of the many convict labourers in her employ. Strange to say, the high salary she offered had tempted him less than the fact that he would hold a position of narrow but supreme authority in her domain. In the Government service there had been too many superiors overlooking him to suit his autocratic disposition. A born autocrat was John Morcan, but to the casual eye he did not look it. His appearance, indeed, suggested rather the courtier than the king, as he rode beside his mistress in the sunlight, and a running fire of eloquence that yet was always deferential interpreted to her the country they were traversing. Let us listen to him for a moment.

"No, madam, those are only sandstone ridges yonder; we shall see no hills until we cross the coastal area. You say rightly, this land is poor and hungry. Mark the shrunken stature of the gums, and see how ragged is the underbrush. Those trees, madam? Surely they are flattered by the kindly designation. Melileuca they are called, and seldom do they reach a proper size in ironstone soil like this, though I have seen them tower in swampy land, and shipwrights find a use for them I'm told, in laying keels. Your humble pardon, madam; I followed badly the direction of your glance. Yes, those are trees, indeed; they must be nurtured from a spring or creek we cannot see. The country dips in line with their advance, as, no doubt, you already have perceived. They are a sort of box, and where they cluster one may find a pool, and when they straggle in procession one may hope to come upon a watercourse."

"My man, you are a perfect mine of information," put in Sir Harry lightly.

Morcan bowed courteously. "Why, sir, it is my trade to learn the tricks and wiles of Lady Nature. But I must freely own that in this land she often does deceive me and confound my penetration. One needs must be a stubborn student here to probe her secrets and deduce her laws, and I am over age to be a patient scholar."

"What age are you, Morcan?" asked Mrs. Sherwin.

"Eight and forty, madam," bending low. "You had not thought it, haply, for I enjoy a habit of light sleeping which has kept me younger than my years."

"Light sleeping? You have given us a paradox. Explain!" commanded the baronet.

"Why, Sir Harry, it has saved me free from maims and wounds. There is nothing like an unexpected maim received at night to stoop the spirit of a man and frost his hair—if he recovers. Madam, I am sure there is a tree will please you. Has it not a tender shape, a green and gracious presence? There is a mystery about that tree I cannot master. It grows as well upon a meagre slope like yon as on a fertile plain, and the dryest summer season will hardly mar its foliage. The natives call it currajong, and I am warned it is a useful fodder, failing else, to feed to famished stock. But, I pray that we shall never have occasion to experiment its virtue, for it grows rarely in this latitude."

In this manner, for an hour or more, Morcan beguiled the road to his companions, never hesitating for a phrase, never lacking a theme of comment, and outpouring information as copiously as a tap discharges water from a well-stocked reservoir. Chance approved him as good a man of action as a talker. He had just begun to teach Mrs. Sherwin how to distinguish between certain eucalypti, when a chorus of female screams gave token of an accident. Sure enough, the coach containing the maids had slipped one forewheel in a deep crevice, and the startled horses tugging madly at their traces, threatened to play havoc with the abruptly stopped and dangerously tilted vehicle. Morcan promptly wheeled his horse and took the track back at a gallop. Reaching the scene of turmoil, he flung himself to the ground and rushed to the heads of the plunging leaders, to bring them, as by magic, under government. One heard his orders, then, rapped out savagely, but tense and to the purpose. It was wonderful to see the serving men's agility to second his intentions, to note the eagerness of their obedience. Already they had recognised a master mind.

Mrs. Sherwin and Sir Harry overlooked the spectacle with interest. The horses were immediately removed from the vehicle and the maids assisted to the road. In a twinkling, axes were in requisition and a stout sapling was selected, felled, and stripped in the scrub beside the path. The pole thus produced was inserted under the fallen axle and used as a lever to lift up the sunken wheel. The entire business occupied perhaps a quarter of an hour—no more. By that time the coach was ready for the road again, the horses re-harnessed, and the maids re-seated.

"Stap me!" exclaimed Sir Harry, "but your foreman shines in an emergency, my dear Elizabeth."

Mrs. Sherwin nodded. "A treasure, a perfect treasure," she declared. "But for what is he waiting now?"

"He's rating the driver of the coach," explained Sir Harry. "I wish we could hear him. See how the fellow cowers under the admonishment, and look! God bless my soul, the girls are shrinking too."

Mrs. Sherwin smiled. "They do not lack spirit either," she remarked. "Yet they are all as still as mice and shrinking, as you say."

Sir Harry shook his head. "Humph!" he said. "A man of parts, 'tis evident. I begin to mistrust the soft speech he employs to us."

"Why should you, Harry? It is his duty, surely, to be courteous to us."

Sir Harry shrugged and frowned. "The contrast is too violent, my dear. Sycophancy nearly always masks a tyrant heart. There is a little of the monster in your Morcan."

"I fancied he had pleased you."

"Don't mistake me, Bess; he does. I like the man. All the same I have a doubt of him. I ask myself this question: Que diable fait-il en cet galere? He is a savant, to judge him by his conversation, and from his appearance he might be an Italian prince. And you are paying him two hundred pounds a year! Read me the riddle, cousin!"

"The coach starts," said Mrs. Sherwin.

"But he is staying with the convicts. Will he rate them, too? By God, look there!"

John Morcan's whip had fallen across the shoulders of a man who was too leisurely preparing to mount his horse. The man showed no resentment; he merely quickened his action, and a moment later the whole cavalcade was on the march.

"Will you brook that sort of discipline?" asked Sir Harry, bluntly—turning to his cousin. Mrs. Sherwin met his glance composedly, but her face had gone a trifle pale.

"We are not in England," was all she said.

Sir Harry shrugged again and both rode on. Morcan soon joined them.

"I ask your pardon, madam, for chastising a lazy rascal in your presence," he said quietly. "But the fact is, I dared not let his offence pass unrebuked in the only language these fellows understand. If we are to live in peace at Camberwell it is essential that justice always should be swift and sure. There is only one form of government that convicts will respect, and it is their inveterate habit to encroach on leniency."

Mrs. Sherwin sighed. "I forgive you freely, sir; but, I would have wished the incident had not occurred."

"And I too, madam. But I have so acted simply that it may not speedily occur again. Had I followed the promptings of an indulgent disposition (Morcan's face at the moment was infinitely sad) and permitted the fellow to be insolent unpunished, we should, I fear—indeed I know—have brought a company to Camberwell already ripe to question your authority."

"You have had much experience with convicts," suggested Sir Harry.

"Convicts and their kind," said John Morcan.

"It has taught you the need to be firm with them, I see."

"To be just, rather," corrected Morcan. "Justice implies firmness, but extends the principle. One may be firm without being just, and that would never do with convicts. They are primitive beings, Sir Harry; and their prison training has reduced them almost to the level of brutes. When they trespass, they consciously and wilfully incur a certain penalty. Should the penalty they expect be not forthcoming, they reason on the instant that their master is a fool, and suspect, as well, he is afraid of them. Suffer them to entertain and feed this reasoning, and they will very quickly set you at defiance. One may rule convicts very easily, as long as they are given no occasion either to rebel against excessive punishment or to hope that they may trespass with impunity. The secret of success is to accord to them unfailingly, the exact punishment which they have risked, which they expect, and which they believe they deserve. Did you observe the conduct of the man I disciplined? I gave him a single lash. He expected it. He had challenged it. He knew he deserved it. Justice was done. He gave me complete and prompt obedience, and for some time to come I will vouch for his exemplary behaviour. I will venture a further prophecy. Until we reach Camberwell we shall have no more trouble in the ranks. One punishes a rebel not only to mend his conduct, Sir Harry, but—pour encourager les autres—to create an atmosphere."

Sir Harry nodded. "And suppose you had given that particular rebel two strokes of your whip, or three?"

Morcan shook his head. "In that case the fellow would have borne me a lasting grudge, and his companions would have set me down a savage despot. It is probable, moreover, that some day in the near future my dead body would be picked up in the fields. A foreman of convicts who would live long, Sir Harry, must needs wear chain mail under his garments, if he have a cruel heart."

"I think your heart is very kind," said Mrs. Sherwin, suddenly.

Morcan bowed to his saddle bow.

"And very just," she added as an afterthought.

He bowed again.

Sir Harry glanced at Mrs. Sherwin, and was puzzled at her curious expression. She gazed straight before her horse, and was at once frowning and smiling.

Sir Harry glanced at Morcan and was more puzzled still. The man's face wore a high color, and he studied Mrs. Sherwin with a look of something very like dismay.

"I can assure you, madam, I wear no armor!" he cried earnestly.

Mrs. Sherwin turned to him with a wholly gracious smile, her frown all gone. "You are much too brave for that," she said sincerely.

Morcan for a third time bent to his saddle bow, but his face had gone as pale as death. Mumbling some excuse, he fell back and returned at a canter to the main body of the cavalcade.

Mrs. Sherwin, for her part, pricked her horse into a trot, but she went forward. Sir Harry followed her, eager for an explanation. "Stap me, Bess!" he spluttered, as he overtook her, "you treat your foreman very forwardly, I think. After all, he is a servant, though a savant." Sir Harry's countenance was black with jealousy.

Mrs. Sherwin's laughter tinkled like a silver bell. "Oh! my poor Harry," she said presently. "Haven't you the wit to know that a woman does not praise her servant for a tender purpose, to the ears of others? Now, for my part, I thought Morcan disliked my little compliments. Did I err? Oblige me, and consult your memory."

"You disconcerted him," Sir Harry growled, "and no wonder."

"You consider him, perhaps, unused to praise?"

"Tut-tut! All men love praise, although unused to it."

"But Morcan fled."

"You did not praise him, Bess. You flattered him."

"Too brazenly?"

"You flattered him," the baronet repeated doggedly.

"So he ran away."

"And so would any modest man in his position."

"Ah, well," sighed Mrs. Sherwin. "Another time I'll be more careful. I'll remember he is modest, and restrain my transports. But, Harry——"

"Yes."

"You ought not to blame me too much, cousin dear."

Sir Harry's face softened instantly, but he pretended to be adamant. "Oh, and why?" he demanded gruffly.

"Because you'd rather ride alone with me to Camberwell than share my company with Morcan—or am I flattering myself?"

Sir Harry surrendered at discretion. "You know I would," he cried.

Mrs. Sherwin smiled. "You'll have your wish," she said. "You'll find that Morcan will not bother us again upon this road. He is a very, very modest man."

Sir Harry refused to credit his cousin's prophecy, but it came true, none the less.