University of Virginia Library

8. CHAPTER VIII.
THE GENEROUS NOBLEMAN AND HIS BOATMAN.

As Bonfield ended his narration, which
we have embodied into, and made a part
of our Romance of the Sea and Shore,
he stood before the nobleman with his manacled arms folded upon his chest and
his bearing at once bold and respectful.

The Earl had listened to his narration
with the deepest attention, and with the
strongest interest manifested in the changing
expression of his countenance. There
was a silence of a few minutes, which
was broken only by the low gurgle of the
waters under the rudder of the vessel. At
length the Earl spoke:

`I have listened to your recital, Captaid
Bonfield, with no little attention. It
has deeply interested me and also led me
to think better of you. It also bears upon
its face throughout the air of truth. It
corroborates what I had, in part, already
heard, and which led me to seek the interview
with you. I am sorry you are a
prisoner, and that you should have been
captured under the circumstances you
have just stated. But it will, doubtless,
result to your advantage, and that of the
young person in whom you have taken
so deep an interest.'

`In that case, my lord,' answered Captain
Bonfield, `I am glad I have been
taken; and if it will benefit Flora I would
be willing to wear heavier chains than
these. I know well, my lord, that that
child came of no ordinary parentage.
This is clear from the fact that the First
Lord of the Admiralty interested himself
to have me employed in the affair of spiriting
her away from the island, and in
that so great a nobleman as the Marquis
of Ross should have come on board in
person, and delivered the infant into my
hands. It is also evident from the large
sum, four thousand pounds, paid me for
my services, and the annual amount
drawn by Oakford for their maintenance.
Who the parents of the child are, I have
no positive opinion; but I believe that it
is an illegitimate daughter of the Earl of
Ross himself, for I could scarcely go
higher unless I went to one of the royal
Dukes themselves. She bears, my lord,
the impress of high birth upon her features.
She looks every inch a lady; a
princess, for that matter. I wish the lord
Ross could see her now. England would
be proud of her.

`I hope England will see her yet, my
worthy Captain,' said the Earl with
warmth. `I have no doubt, too, that the

lord of Ross may yet behold her, also.
Now, Captain Bonfield, it remains to
learn whether she is alive and can be
found.'

`She was alive four months ago, my
lord, and well, for at Smyrna I had letters
from her step-father, the old man,
Harry's father. She wrote to me every
three months regularly. But, my lord,
you have not informed me why you came
to see me to-night. I should like to know
the cause which induced you to come,
and how it is you heard anything about
this matter.'

`I will let you know all this fully tomorrow,
Captain; for it is my intention
to have you a guest at my mansion to
breakfast with me. There I wish you
to see me or two others who are interested
in the affair, and there you will receive
such instructions as may be prepared
for you in reference to the young
person whom you have been so faithful
to. It is already very late; and as the
storm seems to have lulled I will leave
you, first giving orders to the lieutenant
in command to remove your irons. I
will send a boat for you early in the
morning.'

`I shall be happy to wait upon your
lordship,' answered Bonfield.

The Earl then opened the companion-door
and spoke to the officer in charge;
and as he did so, Bonfield saw through
the opening that the cloud had broken
away and stars were glittering in the deep
blue vault across which fleecy clouds
were swiftly driven by the wind.

`Lieutenant Duff,' said the Earl to the
bluff British sailor, `I beg your pardon for
so long holding possession of your quarters
here; but I had particular business
with your prisoner. You will, if you
please, remove his irons, and give him
full liberty of the deck. Early in the
morning I shall send on board for him to
come on shore when you will also ac
company him. You will find a carriage
at the water-stairs, which you will get
into with the prisoner, and you will be
driven to my hotel.'

`You shall be obeyed, my lord,' answered
the officer, touching his storm-cap,
and partly raising it from his forehead
with respect

`Good night, Captain Bonfield,' said
the Earl, in a familiar manner.

`Good night, my lord,' responded the
smuggler, as the Earl left the cabin
wrapped in his cloak, and went upon
deck.

Here he found Martin the boatman,
who had been passing the two hours
his lord Percival had spent in the cabin
in listening, under the lee of the long
boat, to the long yarns of two old tars
who were recounting their exploits and
escapes, and strange adventures in out-landish
seas and countries. To these interesting
narratives of the experienced
old seamen the simple boatman of the
Thames listened with such deep interest
that he was quite unaware how rapidly
the time was flying. The roar of the
storm about their sheltered nook only
made the stories more worth the hearing,
and by no means lessened the animation
of those telling them. At the first call of
the officer of the deck for the `Wherryman,
ahoy! Bear ahand with your oars
for shore,' he sprung to his feet and hastened
to the side.

`Well, my brave fellow,' said the earl,
`I have kept you full long, but you shall
not go unrewarded. I am now ready.'

`And so am I, sir,' answered Martin,
jumping into his boat, which he had already
drawn up from the stern along side,
and into which he now sprung. The
nobleman stepped in and took his seat,
waving his hand to the lieutenant in adieu.
Martin bent his body to his light oars
and the little skiff shot rapidly away from

the dark looking vessel towards the
shores of the silent town.

`We have a better time, boatman, returning,'
said the earl, as the boat danced
rapidly along.

`Yes, sir,' answered Martin, who was
not sure that his passenger was a nobleman,
though he suspected it, and therefore
did not address him as `my lord';
`the river is almost quiet again, and the
storm has blown down towards the channel.
The stars shine out between the
broken sky-drift as if they were glad to
look down upon their faces, shining in
the rivers and seas again. There is
more wind in the clouds than on the land
now, sir. This is a sign of a long spell
of fair weather. But we did have a perilous
time going on board, sir. I should
have turned back more than once, but
when I saw you so fearless, I was
ashamed, a boatman as I was, to be out-done
by a gentleman on my own element.
I have a pride, sir, in my profession.'

`That is praiseworthy. Every man
should feel a proper ambition in his pursuit,
however humble it is. It is the sign
of a well-regulated mind, and stability of
character. How much do you earn in a
week, by your oars?' inquired the earl,
who was inclined to beguile the passage
by conversing with the brave young
boatman, who, as he pulled at his oars
with steady stroke and his face towards
him, was able to talk and hear both.

`About twenty shillings when the season
is good, sir. But some weeks I do
well to take thirteen shillings. Do you
know, sir, that your coming off to-night
has been of the greatest service to me;
for I feel so grateful that I can't help
telling you, sir. But what I get for this
service is to make me and all my family
happy. I was sad enough just before
you came to my door.'

`Indeed! So small a trifle. I am
glad, then, for your sake, I had business
on the schooner. But how is it you, with
a good boat, health, and a strong pair of
arms and industrious, are in such case as
to need a guinea so much that your happiness
is secured by its possession?'

`I will tell you, sir. My wife's father,
who was a stocking weaver, and an honest
thrifty old man, in his old days got
involved by going surety for a friend for
fifty pounds. This friend died before he
could pay it, and the creditor sold for
thirty pounds all his goods, and cast him
into prison till he should pay the other
twenty. In prison he took the fever and
would have died there, if I had not seen
the creditor and bound myself to him to
pay the money within sixty days. On
this bond, which I secured by a mortgage
to him of all I had to the Sunday clothes
of my wife and myself, he set my father-in-law
at liberty, and we took him home
to our humble dwelling and made him as
comfortable as we could, and he soon
began to recover.'

`Did your chattels amount to more
than the debt?' asked the earl.

`No, sir. They fell, as he rated them,
at three pounds five shillings under; but
he well knew I was an honest man and
would pay every penny, so he let me
give my bond for the rest. But a few
days afterwards, he came and said he
must have further security, and so I gave
him in writing authority to take possession
of my wherry and oars at the end of
the sixty days, if the whole twenty pounds
were not paid punctually down. Twenty
pounds, sir, though a trifle to you, perhaps,
was a large sum for a boatman to
get altogether in two months, and have
all the time to pay his own rent and support
his wife and her invalid father. But
I undertook it cheerfully; yet somehow
the season seems to have been the worst
I have had for a long time. Still, by eating
but one meal a day, and that light,

by stinting ourselves in coal and other
ways, and Martha being diligent with her
needle besides, we had made up the sum
to within eleven shillings to-night, when
you came; and how the rest was to be
got, I could not see, though Martha bade
me trust in Providence, for, sir, she is
one of those who acts precisely as if she
was God's child, and believed he would
provide for her a great deal sooner and
better than an earthly father.'

`When are the sixty days up?'

`To-morrow, or rather to-day, sir, for
I just hear the old St. Giles striking the
first hour after midnight. Well, sir, as
I was desponding, for I had been to Mr.
Harrell and asked him if we could not
get the whole of the money if he would
take a part, but he had said nothing would
be received but the utmost penny; and
if it was not paid our poor father should
be sent back to prison. I begged him to
take me instead; but he, seeing it would
favor me, refused, demanding either the
money or my father's body at the time
appointed.'

`What did you say was the name of
this creditor?' asked the Earl, as the
skiff passed close under the stern of a
large ship.

`Harrell, sir.'

`Is he a brewer?'

`He was, sir, but now is a landlord.—
He lives opposite here, nearly, and I
have often ferried him over, till he put
the old man in prison, since when he always
takes some other wherryman.'

`I know the man. What time to-morrow
are you to pay him?'

`At six o'clock, sir. And I am thankful
as I said to you, sir, that I can by this
night's work, have more than enough.—
I shall always trust in Providence after
this, as Martha says.'

The boat now came near the stairs,
and Martin, trailing his oars which were
secured in the rowlocks by iron pivots,
sprung forward to fend off and fasten the
skiff. He then with his boat-hook brought
the stern round, and offering his arm assisted
his passenger to alight upon the
steps.

The Earl looked round for his valet,
and discovering the faint glimmer of a
light under a coal shed, he pointed it out
to Martin, who opened the door and saw
the lacquey fast asleep, with the lantern
hugged in his arms.

`Come, Paul Layton,' cried Martin,
giving him a shake, at which the sleeper
sprung to his feet. `Here is your master.
A fine watchman you are to show
us the pier-stairs with you lantern. But
we fortunately did'nt need it, as the stars
are out bright enough.'

`I beg pardon, my lord.'

`No matter. Go before with the lantern,'
said the Earl. `Proceed directly
to the house of the boatman, as I shall
stop there an instant. Have you pen and
ink, good Martin?'

`I have, your Lordship,' answered
Martin, who now saw from Paul's words,
who had been his passenger.

`I wish to write a line. Hasten and
get it for me.'

Paul ran forward, and finding his door
fast, called, `Martha, Martha. Open
quickly. I am returned in safety.'

`Thank God,' answered his young wife,
throwing herself fairly into his arms, and
kissing him on both cheeks with joy at
seeing him. `I trembled, but I knew
you would come back.'

`Here is his lordship close by. He
wants pen and paper, dear wife,' said
Martin. `Don't let him wait.'

`Not a moment,' she answered hastening
to a desk and opening it.

At the same moment the Earl came in,
and addressing Martin, said:

`My brave fellow, here is your reward
for the services you have done me tonight,'
and as he spoke he placed in his
hands a bank-note.

`My Lord, you are mistaken. It is
for fifty pounds. Besides, you have given
me a guinea, and you promised me only
two.'

`I know the value of the note I have
given you, my honest fellow,' replied the
Earl. `It is none too much for your
merit. Take it, and make yourself and
your family more comfortable.'

`My good, generous, noble benefactor,'
cried Martin, with emotion. `See, Martha.
Here is a gift of fifty pounds. Let
us thank his Lordship on our knees.'

`No, my good fellow, no. If you speak
more about it, you will offend me. Take
and use it. I know you will use it well.
Have you the ink and pen, good mistress?'

`It is here, your Lordship,' answered
the happy, bewildered Martha, placing a
chair at a small table, on which she had
neatly spread pen, ink and paper.

The Earl sat down and wrote for a
few moments, during which time Martin
and his wife were whispering, smiling together
behind him, and looking the very
picture of happiness and gratitude.

In the door of the inner room was visible,
the venerable form of the father,
gazing with surprise upon the scene; and
upon the hearth was Paul, in his stout
weather-coat, and with the lantern in his
hand, looking as if he participated in the
happiness of the waterman and his wife.
Martha seeing her father, ran softly to
him, so as not to interrupt the generous
nobleman, and displayed to him the guinea
and fifty pound note. The old man looked
at them with surprise, rubbing his
eyes, as if to make sure that he saw
rightly. And when she whispered as
she embraced him—`They are ours,
dear father; you are free and we are all
to be happy together,' he clasped his
hands and raised his eyes in thankful
adoration to Heaven.

`There, honest Martin. When six o'clock
to-morrow comes, remain you at
home here, quietly. This creditor, finding
you are not at his house, will not be
long in coming here, hoping, no doubt,
to have the satisfaction of again throwing
your father into prison; for he would
rather do this than have the money. I
know Mr. Harrell well. He would never
have consented to his release, if he had
not hoped to have you in his power also.
He is a hard man, and delights in the
exercise of a cruel disposition. He would
rather extract a scene of tears from a
poor man's eyes, than so many pearls
from his purse. The man hoped by temporarily
surrendering one victim, to get
three. Keep this paper. To-morrow
when he comes, just simply present it to
him. It will be all sufficient. You will
see its effects.'

Thus speaking, Lord Percival, who had
so truthfully given proof of his claim to be
called a nobleman, placed the paper in
Martin's hand, and then nodding to his
servant to precede him, bade them all a
kind good night and left the house. Martin
followed him with his eyes till he saw
the lantern disappear at the corner of a
street, when closing his door he turned
towards Martha and said fervently,

`God bless that good nobleman, Martha!'

`Amen to that as often as you will say
it, dear Martin;” answered his wife
warmly. `I can scarcely realize it!—
Fifty pounds!'

`And a guinea,' added Martin.

`What have you done to earn it?—
But you never could have earned it.'

`No; it was a free gift, Martha.
Somehow I got to telling his lordship about
my business, and then I told him what
happiness he had brought to us by his
coming to call for the boat and paying so
largely; and so when he put questions to
me I told him all about your father's imprisonment,
and what we have to pay to-morrow.
So he has presented us, in the

benevolence of his noble heart, with this
large sum.'

`It was God put it into his heart, Martin,
and don't let us forget to thank him
for this wonderful providence and care
over us.'

`That I will not. But will it be any
harm to read what his lordship has written?'

`No; it isn't sealed, Martin,' said his
wife. `Look, it isn't even folded. He
meant we should read it.'

`Then I will read it,' he answered,
approaching the light, while Martha leaned
over his shoulder, and their father,
resting on his staff, bent his white head
forward to listen, with his best ear turned
towards Martin. The boatman then read
aloud as follows:

`Was there ever!' exclaimed Martha,
raising both hands in amazement and
gratitude. `How wonderfully things do
turn out!'

`It is very extraordinary,' cried Martin.

`That man is in Lord Percival's power,'
said the old man. `Perhaps his lordship
has given him business, which it would
ruin him if he should take it from him.'

`No matter, father—no matter how it
be,' said Martin with a thick voice and a
full heart; `we are blessed, and I see the
finger of Providence in it.'

`I am glad to hear you confess a Providence
at last, Martin,' said his young
wife.

`I should be a heathen not to do it!
But this blessing comes of your faith, and
I share in it when I should have been punished
for my unbelief. But I will never
despair again!'

`It makes me as happy as the fifty
pounds and the guinea to hear you say
that, Martin,' said Martha joyfully. `Now
let us not retire this night without giving
thanks to the source of every good gift.'

It was a grateful sacrifice that ascended
from around that humble hearth-stone.
It was an offering of gratitude and praise
from hearts overflowing with peace and
joy. The trembling words of the venerable
father as he lifted up his voice in
thanksgiving, and acknowledged the dependence
of all creatures upon his Divine
Bounty, were living with faith and piety.
The instrument which God had made use
of—the noble lord—to bless them, was
not forgotten. Blessings without number
were invoked upon his head.

The next day how cheerfully Martin
went to his labors upon the water. His
wherry seemed to partake of the bounding
joy of his heart, and literally to fly
over the surface of the river. Every fellow
craftsman was distanced that day;
and louder and more cheerry than any
other's was Martin's oar-song.

At six o'clock that day he was at home
and sat down to his supper. He had
earned but five shillings during the day,
so that he saw, with tearful gratitude as
he thought of Lord Percival's gift, that
but for him he would have been unable
to have made up the twenty pounds.

He had half got through supper, each
one listening with beating hearts—beating
with joy not with fear—for the least

sound! Suddenly the door was thrown
open and the creditor, a small, thin man,
with a sharp nose and little whity blue
eyes, a cruel and avaricious visage, entered.
He was closely followed by an
officer.

`Well, Master Martin, no money, hey!
Come then old man!' and he proceeded
to lay his hand upon the shoulder of his
late victim.