One more addition was made to our party.
My brother-in-law, Tom Shirley, came to me one morning with a serious face--serious at least, for him. "Will," he said, "I have been thinking about my own concerns, that is, my wife has been thinking about them for me. It is a great advantage for a man to give over that part of his business to his wife."
"Well, Tom?"
"She says, if I remember right, because she has been saying a good deal, that so long as I am content to play first fiddle at the Dog and Duck for thirty shillings a week it matters not, as we shall never get on, and shall have to live in the Rules all our life. Well, Will, I would as lief live in the Rules as out of them. There is very good company in the Rules, almost as good as in the King"s Bench itself."
"She is not content that you should always play the fiddle at that place, and you are. Is that so?"
"For the patronage of aristocracy and the esteem of an audience of taste there is no equal to the Dog and Duck," he replied gravely, as if he meant what he said of the dirty disreputable haunt of "prentices and their kind. "But I confess, Will, that there are times when I consider my musical compositions and when I long for a wider popularity. I think that I should like an opportunity to get my name better known. At the Dog and Duck the n.o.ble audience doth not ask the name of the composer."
"You would leave the Rules if you could, and go live at Westminster, where there are concerts and rich patrons? Well, Tom, we are now rich.
We might manage that for you I believe."
He shook his head. "No. Best not waste good money. I should only get back here again in a month or two. My dear Will, if you only knew how difficult it is to refuse when things are offered on credit. Now, in the Rules no one has any credit, so that we save all our money."
I never heard of Tom"s saving any money. However, I asked him what he would have.
He would go with me. But did they want music in Virginia?
"Perhaps not now. Wait, however, till they have heard and seen me. I believe there is no musical composer, yet, in the Province. I will be the first Virginian musician. I will be the Handel of Virginia."
"Well, Tom, why not?" The knowledge of my great income made me yielding.
Was there not enough for a dozen Toms? "I dare say we could pay out your detaining creditors with no great difficulty."
"Not for the world, my dear brother-in-law. Even from you I could not accept such a favour. Pay me out? Why, it would be no favour: it would be a crime. Do you know that my only detaining creditor is an attorney?
Pay an attorney? Never. Remember Probus. Surely you have had enough of attorneys."
"Indeed I am not likely to forget Probus as long as I live. But then, if you are not paid out, Tom, how will you get out?"
"I shall walk out, Mr. William Halliday. If you let us go out with you I shall send the wife on board with Alice and I shall then walk out with my violin in one hand and a bundle of music in the other on the evening before the ship sails. I shall go on board. When my creditor finds out that I have taken my departure, which may take weeks--or it may take months--that honest attorney will be pained no doubt, for he is of a revengeful spirit. He will then do exactly what he pleases. But I believe he will not venture out to Virginia. If he should dare that attempt I will give him to friendly Indians in order to be--carbonadoed, as I believe you Americans call it. That attorney, Will, shall be carbonadoed over a slow fire."
Tom, then, was to come with us. So with Jenny, her maid, and her man: Tom Shirley and his wife: Alice, the boy and myself we should make up as pleasant a family party as ever sailed across the Atlantic.
The time approached when we were to go on board. The ship was to drop down with the ebb on Sat.u.r.day morning at nine with the turn of the tide.
Everything was on board; on the forecastle on deck my live stock was gathered: sheep, pigs, turkeys (all of which died in the Channel) geese and poultry: our furniture, books and music were stowed away in the hold: our wine and liquors were laid in bunks around the cabin: the Captain and the mate were to take meals with us: they were also so obliging as to drink up our rum and our wine. We had no leavetakings: on Friday afternoon Alice and her sister-in-law went on board. Tom joined them after sundown. At eight o"clock or thereabouts I was to bring Jenny and her party on board. Lord Brockenhurst had expressed his desire to say farewell to her on the quarterdeck.
A little after seven I repaired to the Gaol. At the gates I saw waiting three large waggons which the people were filling with boxes and bundles tied up in sacking and canvas. I thought nothing of these waggons at the moment: they did not concern me, and I entered the Lodge. There was waiting for me Jenny herself, dressed in splendour as if for a wedding.
Surely no prisoner sentenced to transportation ever went on board ship in such a guise. She was taking an affectionate leave of the Governor, who was moved almost to tears by her departure.
"Indeed, Sir," she said, "I am grieved to have put you to so much trouble." So she shook hands, smiling sweetly: then she turned to the turnkeys. "I am also very much in your debt, my friends," and walked along the whole line distributing guineas. "G.o.d bless your Ladyship!"
they uttered fervently. "We shall never see the likes of your Ladyship here again."
Indeed I am sure that they never will.
She mounted the steps of the coach which waited outside, she was followed by the girl, by myself, and by the lad called Jack.
"I am glad," she said, "that this child goes out with me to Virginia."
The child--she looked little more--took Jenny"s hand and kissed it. "She is an affectionate little fool," said Jenny, "and loves me much. And to think what they were going to do with her! Oh! Fools! Fools!" she cried. "Oh! monstrous Fools!"
We were now rolling slowly along Ludgate Hill. There was a rumbling after us which continued. I looked out. They were the three waggons I had observed at the Gate.
"What are those waggons?" I asked.
"They contain my baggage. Did you think I was going abroad with nothing?"
"But in those waggons you must have the whole wardrobe of Drury Lane."
She laughed. "Will, you understand nothing. Did I not tell you that I would have all those turnkeys at my feet in a day or two? Well, I succeeded."
"But what has that got to do with your baggage?"
"Why, you see, the officers that went to search my house for stolen property began with the garrets. And there they stopped. Now when my mother agreed to give evidence it was on conditions as I told you. I gave her money for compensation and I bought the whole of her stock of stolen property. It had been stored in the stone vaults under the Black Jack. They carried it over to the cellars of my house, and when there was no room left there, they used the garrets."
"Oh! They took the garrets first."
"Where there was very little to see. Now you understand why there was such a paltry show. Could a woman in my position brave such a fate for things so miserable?"
"Jenny! Jenny! You are wonderful."
"No, Will, only I have my wits about me."
"You have actually converted Newgate--Newgate Prison--into a Receiving House for stolen property."
"Five guineas apiece for the turnkeys was what it cost. I thought it the safest and the simplest plan, Will."
"Safest and simplest!"
Before I recovered the surprise of this information we reached the stairs. On the Quarter deck was Alice with the boy.
"You dear good woman," Jenny cried. "You are come to see the last of the transported convict: the end of the Orange Girl!"
Yet beside my wife in her homely dress, Jenny looked like a Countess.
Alice kissed her. "We are not going to leave you, Jenny. We are going with you, your servants as long as we live."
CHAPTER XXVI
THE LAST TEMPTATION
"We are waiting," said the Captain, "for our pa.s.sengers."
While he spoke there came alongside the ship a dozen boats or more laden with the pa.s.sengers for whose sake the good ship was about to cross the Atlantic. There were, I remember--it is not possible for me to forget anything that happened on this voyage--one hundred and eight of them who came on board, men and women. They were brought down from Blackfriars Stairs in a closed lighter.
"Jenny," I said, "go into the cabin. Do not look at them."