"How was that, sir?"
"On my way down here, a few days since, the steamer touched at Greenock.
I was standing on the quay when a poor fellow, a pa.s.senger in a vessel just arrived, fell from the gangway, and was taken up insensible. I immediately bled him; and, seeing that he appeared to be seriously injured, I determined, as I had no other particular call upon my time, to remain beside him till he recovered. I had him carried to a small lodging in the neighbourhood, where he soon partially recovered; and, having prescribed for him, I left him, desiring that I might be sent for if any change took place. During the night he had a violent attack of fever. I was sent for; when I arrived, I found him delirious; he was raving about Cuba, and ships, and pirates, and fifty other things that immediately recalled you to my remembrance. When he came to his senses again--
""Doctor! tell me the truth," said he: "am I not dying?"
""No," replied I; "your present symptoms are favourable; everything depends upon your keeping your mind and body quiet."
""Quiet mind!" muttered he, with a bitter smile on his countenance. "It is not that I fear death, doctor; I think I could willingly depart in peace, if I had but been allowed time to find the person whom I came to Scotland in search of."
""And who is that?"
""A fisherman at Rothesay."
"He mentioned the name; but at this moment I forget it. Let me see--it was--ay, it was Ponsonby--Charles Ponsonby."
Douglas started, and turned pale.
"Ponsonby!" exclaimed he; "that was _my_ name, my father"s name! Who can he be? Perhaps some old shipmate of poor Harry"s. I will go directly and see him." And he turned as if to depart.
"Gently, gently, my friend," said I, detaining him; "I must go with you. When I left the poor fellow under the charge of a medical man at Greenock, he was greatly better; but he had received some severe internal injury, and he cannot live long. A sudden surprise might hasten his death. I must go with you to prevent accidents."
We went on board the next steamer that started, and in two hours we landed at Greenock. I led the way to the small lodging in which I had left my patient; and leaving Douglas at the door, went in to inquire into the state of the sufferer"s health, and to prepare him for his visitor. I found him asleep; but his was not the slumber that refreshes--the restless and unquiet spirit within was disturbing the rest of the fevered and fatigued body. His flushed cheek lay upon one arm, while his other was every now and then convulsively raised above his head, and his lips moved with indistinct mutterings.
"He is asleep," said I to Douglas; "we must wait till he awakens."
"Oh, let me look at him," said he; "it can do no harm. He must be an old shipmate of poor Harry"s; perhaps he has some memento of him for me."
"Very well," said I; "you may come in; but make as little noise as possible."
We walked up gently to the bed; Douglas looked earnestly at the sleeper, and, suddenly raising his clasped hands, he exclaimed--
"Merciful heaven! it is Henry himself!"
The poor patient started with a wild and fevered look.
"Who called me? I thought I heard Charles" voice! Where am I? Give way in the boat!--oh, spare me, spare me, Charles!--Fire!--Down with them!
Hurra!"--And, waving his hands above his head, he sunk down again on has bed, exhausted.
He soon fell into a deep slumber, which lasted for some hours. I was sitting by his bedside when he awoke.
"How do you feel now?" said I.
"O doctor! I am dying. I have been dreaming: I thought I heard the voice of one I have deeply injured--nay, I dreamt I _saw_ him; but changed, how changed!--and I--I have been the cause of it."
Here he was interrupted by the smothered sobs of poor Douglas, or Charles, as I now must call him.
"Who is that? there is somebody else in the room," said he; and, drawing the curtain aside, he saw his brother. "Then it was no dream! O Charles!" and, turning round, he buried his face in the pillow. Douglas sprang forward, and, throwing himself on the bed, gave way to a violent burst of emotion.
"Henry! dear Henry! look at me--it _is_ your brother, Henry!"
The dying man groaned. "I cannot look you in the face, Charles," said he, "till you say you have forgiven me."
"Forgiven you!" replied the other; "bless you! bless you, Henry! if you did but know the load of remorse that the sight of you has relieved me from! Thank heaven I was _not_ your murderer!"
"And can you forget the past, Charles?" said Henry. "Do not my ears deceive me? Do you really forgive me?"
"Freely, fully, from my heart!" was the reply; "the joy of meeting you again, even thus, repays me for all I have suffered."
"O Charles!" again e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Henry, "you were always generous and forgiving; but this is more than I expected from you."
I was now going to leave the room; but my patient, noticing my intention, begged me to remain.
"Stay, doctor, and listen to my confession; concealment is no longer necessary, for I feel that the hand of death is upon me, and that, in a few short hours, my career of sin, and shame, and sorrow, will be at an end."
"My poor fellow," said I, "I have heard the first part of your story from your brother; you had better defer the remainder till you have recovered from your present agitation; I will come again to-morrow."
"To-morrow, sir!" said he; "where may I be before to-morrow? Oh, let me speak now, while time and strength are allowed. It will do me good, sir; it will relieve my mind, and be a comfort to my troubled spirit."
Feeling that he was right, I seated myself, while he thus commenced his tale:--
"You remember, Charles, our last sad parting--when we stood"----
"Mention it not, Harry!" groaned his brother--"there is agony in the recollection. Poor Julia!"
"When I left you, I was maddened with sorrow and remorse; all night long I wandered about in a state of distraction, and, when morning dawned, I fell down by the roadside, overcome with fatigue and misery. How long I lay I know not; when I awoke, the sun was high in the heaven; and, during one brief moment of forgetfulness, I rejoiced in his brightness.
Alas! it was but for a moment; my guilty love, my treachery, my loss, all flashed upon my mind at once, and I started to my feet, and hurried madly onwards, as if I hoped, by the rapidity of my movements, to escape from my own thoughts. Hunger at last compelled me to enter a small public-house, where I fell in with a poor sailor, who was on his way to Liverpool in search of a ship. The sight of this man turned my thoughts into another channel. "Double-dyed traitor that I am," muttered I, "England is no longer a home for me. She for whose love I broke a father"s heart and betrayed a brother"s confidence, has been torn from me; and what more have I to live for here?" My mind was made up.
""My lad," said I to the sailor, "if you have no objection, we will travel together; I am bound to Liverpool myself."
""With all my heart," said he; "I like to sail in company."
"I engaged to work my pa.s.sage out before the mast, in a ship bound to Jamaica, intending to turn my education to some account there if possible, or, at all events, to remain there as long as my money lasted.
When I saw the sh.o.r.es of my native land sink in the distance, I felt that I was a forlorn and miserable outcast--that the last link was severed that bound me to existence. A dark change came over me; a spirit of desperation and reckless indifference; a longing wish to end my miseries at once. I strove against the evil spirit; and for a while succeeded. On our arrival at Kingston, I endeavoured in vain to obtain employment; my stock of money was fast decreasing; and when that was gone, where was I to turn for more? Poverty and wretchedness threatened me from without; remorse was busy within. "Why should I bear this weary load of life?" said I, as I madly paced the sh.o.r.e, "when one bold plunge would bury it for ever?"
"I threw myself headlong into the water; and, though an excellent swimmer, I resolutely kept my face beneath the surface; yes, with desperate determination, I strove to _force_ myself into the presence of that dread Being whom I had so grievously offended. When I came to my senses again, I was lying on a part of the beach I was unacquainted with; a tall, handsome, dark-featured young man, was bending over me, and, within a few yards of where I lay, a small light boat was drawn up on the sh.o.r.e.
""So you have opened your eyes at last, my friend," said the man; "you have had a narrow squeak for it. When I dragged you out of the water, like a drowned rat, I thought all was over with you. Have you as many lives as a cat that you can afford to throw away _one_ in such a foolish manner?"
""Life! I am sick of it," answered I.
""Well," said he, "if that is the case, why not throw it away like a man, among men? Come with me, and I will furnish you with active employment to drive the devil out of your mind. But here, before we start, take some of the cordial to cheer you."
"I was chilled and exhausted, and took a hearty draught. I felt its warmth steal through my frame--it mounted to my brain--I laughed aloud; I felt that I was equal to any act of desperation. Alas! I little knew the snare I was falling into. We launched the boat and sprang into it; and my companion, seizing the oars, pulled rapidly along the beach.
After rowing some distance, we saw a light glimmering amid the bushes; it was now nearly dusk; my companion lay on his oars, and gave a long, low, peculiar whistle, which was immediately answered. He then ran the boat ash.o.r.e; two men sprang in, who relieved him at the oars; and we again held on our way. There was a great deal of conversation carried on in a low tone; and from what I heard of it, half tipsy as I was, I inferred that my companion, whom the other men addressed with great respect, was a naval officer on some secret duty. Just as we were crossing the mouth of a narrow creek, a light four-oared gig dashed out after us, a voice hailed us in English to lie on our oars, and, when we still held on our course, a musket ball whizzed over us, to enforce obedience.
""The piratical rascals!" exclaimed the young man; "if they lay hold of us, we are all dead men." "Here!" continued he, seizing a musket, which lay in the stern sheets, and giving me another, "fire for your life!"