There is no doubt he spoke the truth, for the extraordinary alarm with which he looked at Martin as he paused upon his knees before the chest, in the act of unlocking it, to say these words, sufficiently confirmed him.
"I ask your forgiveness a thousand times, my dear fellow," said Martin.
"I couldn"t have helped it, if death had been the penalty."
"Ask my forgiveness!" said Mark, with his accustomed cheerfulness, as he proceeded to unpack the chest. "The head partner a-asking forgiveness of Co., eh? There must be something wrong in the firm when that happens. I must have the books inspected and the accounts gone over immediate. Here we are. Everything in its proper place. Here"s the salt pork. Here"s the biscuit. Here"s the whiskey. Uncommon good it smells too. Here"s the tin pot. This tin pot"s a small fortun" in itself! Here"s the blankets.
Here"s the axe. Who says we ain"t got a first-rate fit out? I feel as if I was a cadet gone out to Indy, and my n.o.ble father was chairman of the Board of Directors. Now, when I"ve got some water from the stream afore the door and mixed the grog," cried Mark, running out to suit the action to the word, "there"s a supper ready, comprising every delicacy of the season. Here we are, sir, all complete. For what we are going to receive, et cetrer. Lord bless you, sir, it"s very like a gipsy party!"
It was impossible not to take heart, in the company of such a man as this. Martin sat upon the ground beside the box; took out his knife; and ate and drank st.u.r.dily.
"Now you see," said Mark, when they had made a hearty meal; "with your knife and mine, I sticks this blanket right afore the door. Or where, in a state of high civilization, the door would be. And very neat it looks.
Then I stops the aperture below, by putting the chest agin it. And very neat THAT looks. Then there"s your blanket, sir. Then here"s mine. And what"s to hinder our pa.s.sing a good night?"
For all his light-hearted speaking, it was long before he slept himself.
He wrapped his blanket round him, put the axe ready to his hand, and lay across the threshold of the door; too anxious and too watchful to close his eyes. The novelty of their dreary situation, the dread of some rapacious animal or human enemy, the terrible uncertainty of their means of subsistence, the apprehension of death, the immense distance and the hosts of obstacles between themselves and England, were fruitful sources of disquiet in the deep silence of the night. Though Martin would have had him think otherwise, Mark felt that he was waking also, and a prey to the same reflections. This was almost worse than all, for if he began to brood over their miseries instead of trying to make head against them there could be little doubt that such a state of mind would powerfully a.s.sist the influence of the pestilent climate. Never had the light of day been half so welcome to his eyes, as when awaking from a fitful doze, Mark saw it shining through the blanket in the doorway.
He stole out gently, for his companion was sleeping now; and having refreshed himself by washing in the river, where it snowed before the door, took a rough survey of the settlement. There were not above a score of cabins in the whole; half of these appeared untenanted; all were rotten and decayed. The most tottering, abject, and forlorn among them was called, with great propriety, the Bank, and National Credit Office. It had some feeble props about it, but was settling deep down in the mud, past all recovery.
Here and there an effort had been made to clear the land, and something like a field had been marked out, where, among the stumps and ashes of burnt trees, a scanty crop of Indian corn was growing. In some quarters, a snake or zigzag fence had been begun, but in no instance had it been completed; and the felled logs, half hidden in the soil, lay mouldering away. Three or four meagre dogs, wasted and vexed with hunger; some long-legged pigs, wandering away into the woods in search of food; some children, nearly naked, gazing at him from the huts; were all the living things he saw. A fetid vapour, hot and sickening as the breath of an oven, rose up from the earth, and hung on everything around; and as his foot-prints sunk into the marshy ground, a black ooze started forth to blot them out.
Their own land was mere forest. The trees had grown so think and close that they shouldered one another out of their places, and the weakest, forced into shapes of strange distortion, languished like cripples.
The best were stunted, from the pressure and the want of room; and high about the stems of all grew long rank gra.s.s, dank weeds, and frowsy underwood; not divisible into their separate kinds, but tangled all together in a heap; a jungle deep and dark, with neither earth nor water at its roots, but putrid matter, formed of the pulpy offal of the two, and of their own corruption.
He went down to the landing-place where they had left their goods last night; and there he found some half-dozen men--wan and forlorn to look at, but ready enough to a.s.sist--who helped him to carry them to the log-house. They shook their heads in speaking of the settlement, and had no comfort to give him. Those who had the means of going away had all deserted it. They who were left had lost their wives, their children, friends, or brothers there, and suffered much themselves. Most of them were ill then; none were the men they had been once. They frankly offered their a.s.sistance and advice, and, leaving him for that time, went sadly off upon their several tasks.
Martin was by this time stirring; but he had greatly changed, even in one night. He was very pale and languid; he spoke of pains and weakness in his limbs, and complained that his sight was dim, and his voice feeble. Increasing in his own briskness as the prospect grew more and more dismal, Mark brought away a door from one of the deserted houses, and fitted it to their own habitation; then went back again for a rude bench he had observed, with which he presently returned in triumph; and having put this piece of furniture outside the house, arranged the notable tin pot and other such movables upon it, that it might represent a dresser or a sideboard. Greatly satisfied with this arrangement, he next rolled their cask of flour into the house and set it up on end in one corner, where it served for a side-table. No better dining-table could be required than the chest, which he solemnly devoted to that useful service thenceforth. Their blankets, clothes, and the like, he hung on pegs and nails. And lastly, he brought forth a great placard (which Martin in the exultation of his heart had prepared with his own hands at the National Hotel) bearing the inscription, CHUZZLEWIT & CO., ARCHITECTS AND SURVEYORS, which he displayed upon the most conspicuous part of the premises, with as much gravity as if the thriving city of Eden had a real existence, and they expected to be overwhelmed with business.
"These here tools," said Mark, bringing forward Martin"s case of instruments and sticking the compa.s.ses upright in a stump before the door, "shall be set out in the open air to show that we come provided.
And now, if any gentleman wants a house built, he"d better give his orders, afore we"re other ways bespoke."
Considering the intense heat of the weather, this was not a bad morning"s work; but without pausing for a moment, though he was streaming at every pore, Mark vanished into the house again, and presently reappeared with a hatchet; intent on performing some impossibilities with that implement.
"Here"s ugly old tree in the way, sir," he observed, "which"ll be all the better down. We can build the oven in the afternoon. There never was such a handy spot for clay as Eden is. That"s convenient, anyhow."
But Martin gave him no answer. He had sat the whole time with his head upon his hands, gazing at the current as it rolled swiftly by; thinking, perhaps, how fast it moved towards the open sea, the high road to the home he never would behold again.
Not even the vigorous strokes which Mark dealt at the tree awoke him from his mournful meditation. Finding all his endeavours to rouse him of no use, Mark stopped in his work and came towards him.
"Don"t give in, sir," said Mr Tapley.
"Oh, Mark," returned his friend, "what have I done in all my life that has deserved this heavy fate?"
"Why, sir," returned Mark, "for the matter of that, everybody as is here might say the same thing; many of "em with better reason p"raps than you or me. Hold up, sir. Do something. Couldn"t you ease your mind, now, don"t you think, by making some personal obserwations in a letter to Scadder?"
"No," said Martin, shaking his head sorrowfully: "I am past that."
"But if you"re past that already," returned Mark, "you must be ill, and ought to be attended to."
"Don"t mind me," said Martin. "Do the best you can for yourself. You"ll soon have only yourself to consider. And then G.o.d speed you home, and forgive me for bringing you here! I am destined to die in this place. I felt it the instant I set foot upon the sh.o.r.e. Sleeping or waking, Mark, I dreamed it all last night."
"I said you must be ill," returned Mark, tenderly, "and now I"m sure of it. A touch of fever and ague caught on these rivers, I dare say; but bless you, THAT"S nothing. It"s only a seasoning, and we must all be seasoned, one way or another. That"s religion that is, you know," said Mark.
He only sighed and shook his head.
"Wait half a minute," said Mark cheerily, "till I run up to one of our neighbours and ask what"s best to be took, and borrow a little of it to give you; and to-morrow you"ll find yourself as strong as ever again. I won"t be gone a minute. Don"t give in while I"m away, whatever you do!"
Throwing down his hatchet, he sped away immediately, but stopped when he had got a little distance, and looked back; then hurried on again.
"Now, Mr Tapley," said Mark, giving himself a tremendous blow in the chest by way of reviver, "just you attend to what I"ve got to say.
Things is looking about as bad as they CAN look, young man. You"ll not have such another opportunity for showing your jolly disposition, my fine fellow, as long as you live. And therefore, Tapley, Now"s your time to come out strong; or Never!"
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
REPORTS PROGRESS IN CERTAIN HOMELY MATTERS OF LOVE, HATRED, JEALOUSY, AND REVENGE
"Hallo, Pecksniff!" cried Mr Jonas from the parlour. "Isn"t somebody a-going to open that precious old door of yours?"
"Immediately, Mr Jonas. Immediately."
"Ecod," muttered the orphan, "not before it"s time neither. Whoever it is, has knocked three times, and each one loud enough to wake the--" he had such a repugnance to the idea of waking the Dead, that he stopped even then with the words upon his tongue, and said, instead, "the Seven Sleepers."
"Immediately, Mr Jonas; immediately," repeated Pecksniff. "Thomas Pinch"--he couldn"t make up his mind, in his great agitation, whether to call Tom his dear friend or a villain, so he shook his fist at him PRO TEM--"go up to my daughters" room, and tell them who is here. Say, Silence. Silence! Do you hear me, sir?
"Directly, sir!" cried Tom, departing, in a state of much amazement, on his errand.
"You"ll--ha, ha, ha!--you"ll excuse me, Mr Jonas, if I close this door a moment, will you?" said Pecksniff. "This may be a professional call.
Indeed I am pretty sure it is. Thank you." Then Mr Pecksniff, gently warbling a rustic stave, put on his garden hat, seized a spade, and opened the street door; calmly appearing on the threshold, as if he thought he had, from his vineyard, heard a modest rap, but was not quite certain.
Seeing a gentleman and lady before him, he started back in as much confusion as a good man with a crystal conscience might betray in mere surprise. Recognition came upon him the next moment, and he cried:
"Mr Chuzzlewit! Can I believe my eyes! My dear sir; my good sir! A joyful hour, a happy hour indeed. Pray, my dear sir, walk in. You find me in my garden-dress. You will excuse it, I know. It is an ancient pursuit, gardening. Primitive, my dear sir. Or, if I am not mistaken, Adam was the first of our calling. MY Eve, I grieve to say is no more, sir; but"--here he pointed to his spade, and shook his head as if he were not cheerful without an effort--"but I do a little bit of Adam still."
He had by this time got them into the best parlour, where the portrait by Spiller, and the bust by Spoker, were.
"My daughters," said Mr Pecksniff, "will be overjoyed. If I could feel weary upon such a theme, I should have been worn out long ago, my dear sir, by their constant antic.i.p.ation of this happiness and their repeated allusions to our meeting at Mrs Todgers"s. Their fair young friend, too," said Mr Pecksniff, "whom they so desire to know and love--indeed to know her, is to love--I hope I see her well. I hope in saying, "Welcome to my humble roof!" I find some echo in her own sentiments.
If features are an index to the heart, I have no fears of that. An extremely engaging expression of countenance, Mr Chuzzlewit, my dear sir--very much so!"
"Mary," said the old man, "Mr Pecksniff flatters you. But flattery from him is worth the having. He is not a dealer in it, and it comes from his heart. We thought Mr--"
"Pinch," said Mary.
"Mr Pinch would have arrived before us, Pecksniff."
"He did arrive before you, my dear sir," retorted Pecksniff, raising his voice for the edification of Tom upon the stairs, "and was about, I dare say, to tell me of your coming, when I begged him first to knock at my daughters" chamber, and inquire after Charity, my dear child, who is not so well as I could wish. No," said Mr Pecksniff, answering their looks, "I am sorry to say, she is not. It is merely an hysterical affection; nothing more, I am not uneasy. Mr Pinch! Thomas!" exclaimed Pecksniff, in his kindest accents. "Pray come in. I shall make no stranger of you.
Thomas is a friend of mine, of rather long-standing, Mr Chuzzlewit, you must know."