Run to Earth by Mary Elizabeth Braddon (ready player one ebook TXT) 📕

under the owner of the “Vixen.”

They met accidentally in one of the streets about Wapping. Joseph

Buncombe was delighted to encounter a seafaring friend, and insisted

on taking George Jernam down to River View Cottage to eat what he

called a homely bit of dinner.

The homely bit of dinner turned out to be a very excellent repast; for

Mrs. Mugby prided herself upon her powers as a cook and housekeeper,

and to produce a good dinner at a short notice was a triumph she much

enjoyed.

Susan Trott waited at table in her prettiest cotton gown and smartest

cap.

Rosamond Duncombe sat by her father’s side during the meal; and after

dinner, when the curtains were drawn, and the lamp lighted, the captain

of the “Vixen” set himself to brew a jorum of punch in a large old

Japanese china bowl, the composition of which punch was his strong

point.

Altogether that little dinner and cheerful evening entertainment seemed

the perfection of home comfort. George Jernam had been too long a

stranger to home and home pleasures not to feel the cheerful influence

of that hospitable abode.

For Joseph Duncombe the companionship of his old friend was delightful.

The society of the sailor was as invigorating to the nostrils of a

seaman as the fresh breeze of ocean after a long residence inland.

“You don’t know what a treat it is to me to have an old shipmate with

me once more, George,” he said. “My little Rosy and I live here pretty

comfortably, though I keep a tight hand over her, I can tell you,” he

added, with pretended severity; “but it’s dull work for a man who has

lived the best part of his life on the sea to find himself amongst a

pack of spooney landsmen. Never you marry a landsman, Rosy, if you

don’t want me to cut you off with a shilling,” he cried, turning to his

daughter.

Of course Miss Rosamond Duncombe blushed on hearing herself thus

apostrophized, as young ladies of eighteen have a knack of blushing

when the possibility of their falling in love is mentioned.

George Jernam saw the blush, and thought that Miss Duncombe was the

prettiest girl he had ever seen.

George Jernam stayed late at the cottage, for its hospitable owner was

loth to let his friend depart.

“How long do you stay in London, George?” he asked, as the young man

was going away.

“A month, at least—perhaps two months.”

“Then be sure you come down here very often. You can dine with us every

Sunday, of course, for I know you haven’t a creature belonging to you

in London except Harker; and you can run down of an evening sometimes,

and bring him with you, and smoke your cigar in my garden, with the

bright water rippling past you, and all the ships in the Pool spreading

their rigging against the calm grey sky; and I’ll brew you a jorum of

punch, and Rosy shall sing us a song while we drink it.”

It is not to be supposed that George Jernam, who had a good deal of

idle time on his hands, could refuse to oblige his old captain, or

shrink from availing himself of hospitality so cordially pressed upon

him.

He went very often in the autumn dusk to spend an hour or two at River

View Cottage, where he always found a hearty welcome. He strolled in

the garden with Captain Duncombe and Rosamond, talking of strange lands

and stranger adventures.

Harker did not always accompany him; but sometimes he did, and on such

occasions Rosamond seemed unaccountably glad to see him. Harker paid

her no more attention than usual, and invariably devoted himself to Joe

Duncombe, who was frequently lazy, and inclined to smoke his cigar in

the comfortable parlour. On these occasions George Jernam and Rosamond

Duncombe strolled side by side in the garden; and the sailor

entertained his fair companion by the description of all the strangest

scenes he had beheld, and the most romantic adventures he had been

engaged in. It was like the talk of some seafaring Othello; and never

did Desdemona more “seriously incline” to hear her valiant Moor than

did Miss Duncombe to hear her captain.

One of the windows of Joseph Duncombe’s favourite sitting-room

commanded the garden; and from this window the captain of the “Vixen”

could see his daughter and the captain of the “Albatross” walking side

by side upon the smoothly kept lawn. He used to look unutterably sly as

he watched the two figures; and on one occasion went so far as to tap

his nose significantly several times with his ponderous forefinger.

“It’s a match!” he muttered to himself; “it’s a match, or my name is

not Joe Duncombe.”

Susan Trott was not slow to notice those evening walks in the garden.

She told the dashing young baker that she thought there would be a

wedding at the cottage before long.

“Yours, of course,” cried the baker.

“For shame, now, you impitent creature!” exclaimed Susan, blushing till

she was rosier than the cherry-coloured ribbons in her cap; “you know

what I mean well enough.”

Neither Captain Duncombe nor Susan Trott were very far wrong. The

“Albatross” was not ready for her next cruise till three months after

George Jernam’s first visit to River View Cottage, nor did the captain

of the vessel seem particularly anxious to hasten the completion of the

repairs.

When the “Albatross” did drop down into the Channel, she sailed on a

cruise that was to last less than six months; and when George Jernam

touched English ground again, he was to return to claim Rosamond

Duncombe as his plighted wife. This arrangement had Joyce Harker’s

hearty approbation; but when he, too, had taken leave of George Jernam,

he turned away muttering, “I think he really has forgotten Captain

Valentine now; but I have not, I have not. No, I remember him better

than ever now, when there’s no one but me.”

*

The “Albatross” came safely back to the Pool in the early spring

weather. George Jernam had promised Rosamond that she should know of

his coming before ever he set foot on shore, and he contrived to keep

his word.

One fine March day she saw a vessel sailing up the river, with a white

flag flying from the main-mast. On the white flag blazed, in bright red

letters, the name, “Rosamond!”

When Miss Duncombe saw this, she knew at once that her lover had

returned. No other vessel than the “Albatross” was likely to sport such

a piece of bunting.

George Jernam came back braver, truer, handsomer even than when he went

away, as it seemed to Rosamond. He came back more devoted to her than

ever, she thought; and a man must have been indeed cold of heart who

could be ungrateful for the innocent, girlish affection which Rosamond

revealed in every word and look.

The wedding took place within a month of the sailor’s return; and,

after some discussion, George Jernam consented that he and his wife

should continue to live at the cottage.

“I can’t come here to take possession of your house,” he had said,

addressing himself to his future father-in-law; “that would be rather

too much of a good thing. I know you’d like to keep Rosy in the

neighbourhood, and so you shall. I’ll do as you did. I’ll find a little

bit of ground near here, and build myself a comfortable crib, with a

view of the river.”

“Stuff and nonsense!” replied Captain Duncombe. “If that’s what you are

going to do, you shall not have my Rosy. I’ve no objection to her

having a husband on the premises; but the day she leaves my roof for

the sake of any man in Christendom, I’ll cut her off with a shilling—

and the shilling shall be a bad one.”

The captain of the “Albatross” took his young wife into Devonshire for

a brief honeymoon; and during this pleasant spring-time holiday,

Rosamond made the acquaintance of her husband’s aunt. Susan Jernam was

pleased with the bright-eyed, pure-minded, modest girl, and in the few

days they were together, learned to regard her with a motherly feeling,

which was destined to be of priceless value to Rosy at an unforeseen

crisis of the new life that began so fairly.

Never did a married couple begin their new life with a fairer prospect

than that which lay before George Jernam and his wife when they

returned to River View Cottage. Captain Duncombe received his son-in-law with the hearty welcome of a true seaman; but a few days after

George Jernam’s return, the old sailor took him aside, and made an

announcement which filled him with surprise.

“You know how fond I am of Rosy,” he said, “and you know that if

Providence had blessed me with a son of my own, he couldn’t have been

much dearer to me than you are; so come what may, neither you or Rosy

must doubt my affection for both of you. Come now, George, promise me

you won’t.”

“I promise, with all my heart,” answered Captain Jernam; “I should no

more think of doubting your goodness or your love for us, than I should

think of doubting that there’s a sun shining up aloft yonder. But why

do you speak of this?”

“Because, George, the truth of the matter is, I’m going to leave you.”

“You are going to leave us?”

“Yes, old fellow. You see, a lazy, land-lubber’s life doesn’t suit me.

I’ve tried it, and it don’t answer. I thought the sound of the water

washing against the bank at the bottom of my garden, and the sight of

the ships in the Pool, would be consolation enough for me, but they

ain’t, and I’ve been sickening for the sea for the last six mouths. As

long as my little Rosy had nobody in the world but me to take care of

her, I stayed with her, and I should have gone on staying with her till

I died at my post. But she’s got a husband now, and two trust-worthy

women-servants, who would protect her if you left her—as I suppose you

must leave her, sooner or later—so there’s no reason why I should stop

on shore any longer, pining for a sight of blue water.”

“And you really mean to leave us!” exclaimed George Jernam. “I am

afraid your going will break poor Rosy’s heart.”

“No it won’t, George,” answered Captain Duncombe. “When a young woman’s

married, her heart is uncommonly tough with regard to everybody except

her husband. I dare say poor little Rosy-posy will be sorry to lose her

old father; but she’ll have you to console her, and she won’t grieve

long. Besides, I’m not going away for ever, you know. I’m only just

going to take a little cruise to the Indies, with a cargo of dry goods,

make a bit of money for my grandchildren that are to be, and then come

home again, fresher than ever, and settle down in the bosom of my

family. I’ve seen a neat little craft that will suit me to a T; and I

shall fit her out, and be off for blue water before the month is

ended.”

It was evident that the old sailor was in earnest, and George Jernam

did not attempt to overrule his determination. Rosamond pleaded against

her father’s departure, but she pleaded in vain. Early in June Captain

Duncombe left England on board a neat little craft, which he christened

the “Young Wife,” in compliment to his daughter.