It could never for a moment be supposed that these conspirators had not their dark lanterns; and presently one was produced from the ample folds of somebody's cloak, and they all stooped down as the cook unrolled his plan and the light from the dark lantern fell upon the eager faces of Billy Cheeks, the carpenter, his mate, and the cook.
"Time, mates, is short, so I come to the point. This is a bill of sale."
"So, so, a bill of sale," they all said in a low tone as they eyed the piece of paper.
"We will have an auction," said the cook; "our foreign relations we have decided to let go; for we get more kicks than half-pence from them; but our colonies we will sell."
"Ha, ha!" laughed the butcher, hoarsely; "mind they don't sell you."
"At it again, Billy," said the cook; "but it shows you're recovering from your nervous attack. Lot No. 1. The Buccaneer's well-known property of India. A rich possession comprizing over 200,000,000 of faithful subjects, together with forts and garrisons fully armed and equipped, and a most lucrative trade."
"The Eastern Bandit no doubt will bid for that lot or perhaps he'll take it," said the carpenter's mate.
"Proceed, Pepper," cried the carpenter.
"That cock won't fight," remarked the butcher. "You don't suppose our master will allow his dusky princess to be bought or taken by his old enemy, the Bandit."
"Go on, Pepper," cried the carpenter; "Billy's state of health is rapidly improving. Haste, my lad, for the silver foot of day is advancing. In a short time his eye will be over yonder house-tops, and if he looks upon us plotting in the cook's caboose, then farewell to our plan and perhaps to our liberty as well."
"Lot 2. Egypt. We may expect bidders for that country and 'caveat emptor' say I. That is a country replete with articles of virtu, the only thing is to find them. It is the proud possessor of an ancient history. With this lot will go a discontented, harassed and poverty-stricken people, and one or more high military reputations, and may the devil fly away with the whole lot, say I. There are a few others—things scarcely worth mentioning—such as the royal robes, crown jewels, and other court paraphernalia."
Here the discussion was suddenly put a stop to by the butcher, who gave such a start that he knocked the carpenter's mate up against the cook, who in turn nearly overturned Chips. The lantern was upset and the light was put out.
"What the devil is up now!" cried the cook, recovering himself.
"I saw it again," said the butcher, in a terrified whisper. They all pitied the butcher and declared that he was, without exception, about as uncomfortable a member of a conspiracy as could possibly be found. There was something almost uncanny about his behaviour, and no doubt less doughty men would have been scared. It was now too late to continue with their plans. They one and all said that the scheme was good and wanted scarcely for anything except the carrying of it out, which they agreed was a mere matter of detail. They complimented the cook upon his suggested method of raising the necessary wind. They were all very well pleased one with another, and as the carpenter dismissed them, he said: "Bless ye, my lads! Away to your bunks, my honest fellows. The silver king treads close upon the heels of the sable queen, so away and snatch a few hours of repose. Then arise and buckle to your work. Mix well amongst the people ashore. Sow broadcast the seeds of discontent, and so prepare the way for action. The womb of time is big with great events. Be civil, my mates, to the wild Ojabberaways, for at times it is necessary to hold the candle to the devil himself. If we do not square them, the other watch will."
"The greedy office grabbers," cried the cook, "will leave no stone unturned to get the helm; but we must dish them. For my part I have always found the Ojabberaways a merry and clever lot of gentlemanly devils."
"To their many wants then," exclaimed the carpenter, "lend a kindly ear; but keep your own counsel. Be thrifty of your words unless you use them as our noble captain does, to conceal your thoughts. Away then, my lads! What, does no one move? It is too late for ghosts to prowl about, and of other things what have you to fear?"
"Who is afraid, Master Chips?" the cook asked indignantly, "I was only thinking."
"Vast heaving, my hearties, while the cook thinks," cried the carpenter. "In the meantime I will take a look round, the watchman may be about." Chips drew his cloak round him and pulled his slouched hat well down over his eyes; then with the stealthy walk peculiar to conspirators he took a look round. Just as he reached the back of the cook's galley, he heard what sounded like a splash in the water. It made him start; and his heart beat hard against his side, his hair stood on end, and he had to lean against the water-butt for support. "Pshaw!" he cried as he shivered in the chill morning air, "I am getting as bad as Billy Cheeks." The look-out man from aloft cried out, "All's well." Thus reassured, the carpenter told his companions that the coast was clear, so with cloaks well wrapped round them and hats well slouched they sneaked away to their beds.
It was but a narrow strip of water that separated the old Sea King, or Buccaneer, from his neighbours on the mainland. But narrow as the strip was it had been and it was of the greatest service to him; for it kept from his shores the numerous bands of robbers that infested the mainland. Of course things had very much improved of recent years, but still occasional robberies took place even now, and when an opportunity offered it was not allowed to pass by. Since the world began it has been said that honest men are few and rogues are many.
There can be very little doubt that the veneer called civilisation has done much for the world. It would appear, however, that when people are collected together into a nation, they cannot even now look upon the richness of a neighbour, without having some feelings of envy, and experiencing a slight itching sensation at the ends of the fingers.
Indeed, the study of history, and human nature generally, would lead us to believe that man is not only a very lazy fellow by nature, never working unless necessity compels him to; but that he is also a thief, and is only honest by compulsion, or by learning that it is to his personal advantage to be so. This much we may have hinted before. For mankind in general we have the highest admiration and consideration; but we cannot hide from ourselves the fact that it has with many virtues, also very many faults, and love of other people's property seems to be one.
Man we will not run down or decry. Look you at the savage! There is a great nobility about him, and in some things he compares most favourably with his highly cultivated and civilised brother. The latter is perhaps the proud possessor of a great intellect, of rank, of high position, having a long line of ancestors to decorate the walls of his ancestral hall. He may be the proud possessor of vast wealth, in fact, of everything that leads to human greatness, and yet see how he sneaks into a room as if he were some mean thing and thoroughly well ashamed of himself. Contrast with this man the noble bearing of the savage, every movement is as full of dignity, as, in all probability, his only blanket is of insects. This man feels himself a lord of creation. His mantle above alluded to he throws over his shoulders with an easy grace. His only possession perhaps is his spear or tomahawk which he is ever ready to bury in the stomach of an enemy or in the friendly earth. Then the savage is silent, and when he does speak, he does not prove himself a wind bag, but he speaks in measured tones, and with dignity and very much to the point. There is none of that senseless gabbling which is such a mark of Western civilisation, and which at times is so extremely confusing and even distressing. He does not wash, you say? Good people all, here the peculiar and special prejudice of civilisation presents itself. Yes, the tub crowns your Western edifice; but did your Saint James ever use the bath? The platter is well washed without, but within? The savage is a noble being, though perhaps the rain that falls from a generous heaven is the only washing he ever gets.
The imagination loves to dwell upon the ideal. It peoples the garden of Eden with beautiful and naked innocence. It loves to sing of the gentle shepherd, who, decked in ribbons and becoming fancy pastoral garments, pipes and dances to his flocks all day long, and in other ways wastes his employer's time. Strip the gentle shepherd of the clothing generously given him by the imagination and you find him a very rough fellow indeed, not given to singing so much as to cursing, and instead of dancing, is more ready to knock anyone on the head who interferes with his sheep-stealing propensities. We speak, good people all, of early pastoral times, of what we may call the ancient shepherd period.
Heaven forbid! that we should say one word against civilisation. Do we wish to live in a state of society which was so easily excited that if a man but sneezed some fiery fellow would fancy himself insulted and out with his bodkin and put it through one? Heaven forbid! we say again. But, good people all, the struggle for existence is great. The weakest at all times go to the wall. The noble savage allows his weakly and sickly offspring to die; perhaps even at times he assists nature, occasionally knocking an aged parent on the head, saving thereby much pain and suffering on the one side, and trouble and anxiety on the other. But see what your civilisation does. See how far superior it is; how supremely human. It calls in that eminent physician Dr. Science, and with his help your sickly human weeds are nourished and reared until they are old enough and strong enough to marry and multiply. Weeds produce weeds and quickly. A sickly body can only sustain a sickly mind, and so the world wags and whole peoples become undermined. What would we do? Nothing. We sit and watch things taking their course, and note the many advantages that civilisation has over barbarism.
It is an old, old tale, yet in the telling of it nature alone is not prosy. She has such a way of telling the same story over and over again and ever varying it some little in the telling. What wonderful powers of variation has our mother! Take a million faces and by some subtle combination of the same features she gives an individuality to each. But to return to our noble savage. In a rough and ready fashion he surmounts the difficulty of his useless members of society. By an extensive and well-organised system, civilisation finds out the exact amount of sustenance it takes to keep the body and soul together in an aged broken-down pauper. Then separating an aged couple, who perhaps have borne the brunt of many a misfortune together, it allows them to drain to the last drop the dregs of life, holding up to them as a consolation the plenty that lies in paradise. Civilisation justly condemns the inhuman custom of the otherwise noble savage; but does not deny itself the inward satisfaction of a sigh of relief when some person who, having lingered perhaps a trifle too long over his or her exit, eventually goes. "Poor soul," they say, "it is a happy release. Gone to a better and a happier world, no doubt." A pauper's funeral brightens a district and carries, if not joy, at least no sorrow to the hearts of the guardians of the poor.
We never said that civilisation was a gigantic workshop where hypocrites and humbugs are turned out by the thousands every day, whilst its religion occupies itself in manufacturing Pharisees. We have pointed out, if we have not demonstrated, the admirable laws by which civilisation works as regards the welfare of the poor, and we have shown the care that it takes of its sickly weeds, given to them such eminent advantages and allowing them to contaminate a whole community with their sickliness. We have acknowledged how in all respects, with the sole exception of grace and bearing, civilisation is superior to the savage state. But this much we will say, many savages we have seen who are very much more gentle in their manners; very much more honourable and even refined in their feelings, and very much more humane, than the roughs of civilisation. No doubt every civilised family has its extremely black sheep. The Buccaneer certainly had his, and compared with them, the gentle savage is a well-bred gentleman.
Then look at your pale-faced drudge of civilisation. With bent back and emaciated face and smarting eyes, her thin but nimble fingers stitch on from early morning, till after the weary sun has sunk to rest. On, on, she works with scanty food, and in an impure atmosphere. Poor soul, has civilisation done much for her? Has it buttered her bread more thickly or sweetened more her tea? Is her lot any better than that of her sister who toils and slaves out in the open, while her brave lies and basks in the sun of idleness?
But we have wandered far from that narrow strip of water that divided the Buccaneer from his neighbours on the mainland. It had been to him as a magic belt, and worth more than thousands of men. His neighbours had to look on and long and wonder perhaps how it was that such a man had been allowed to prosper. But all have heard of the row in the kitchen, between the pot and the kettle. His neighbours, however, repudiated with scorn any evil intentions and they only kept themselves armed to the teeth to keep wicked robbers and cut-throats away; but it was a wonder to many people where they could be, because, if asked, all declared that all they wished for was to be allowed to live in peace, and quietude, so that they might enjoy the reward of their honest, industrious, and highly respectable lives, and fit themselves for heaven.
Arriving on the shores of his nearest neighbour, Madame France, the Buccaneer landed, and as he intended to make a few calls inland, he sent his yacht round to the Golden Horn with orders to await there his arrival.
The Buccaneer took off his hat and made his politest bow; but his reception was by no means as cordial as he had expected. As is well known by all those who have experienced it, there is nothing so freezing as the cold politeness of a haughty beauty. It requires more brazen effrontery than even old Dogvane had, to carry it off with a high handed dignity as if nothing was wrong. That Madame France was beautiful there could be no doubt, and she would have made the blood quicken in the veins of the most eminent saint, and as for a sinner! well, there is no use going into particulars.
It is more than probable that the charms of this lady were not lost upon either the Buccaneer or his trusty captain William Dogvane. Then, as if the devil was in it, Madame had added to her natural beauty, by calling in the assistance of every art. Her figure was neat and most attractive, and her dress left nothing to be desired. In her display of charms she was generous without being coarse and vulgar, and her short kirtle discovered the prettiest of ankles, and just enough of a well-shaped leg to be peculiarly attractive. Even old Bill felt young again and his eyes glistened with delight, and he was no less inclined to be gallant than his master, who for the time forgot the precept taught him by his religion about coveting other people's goods.
Having coldly acknowledged the salutation she turned her back upon her visitors and pouted her pretty lips. "Master Dogvane," said the Buccaneer addressing that worthy, "there is not much cordiality here."
"It beats me altogether, sir," the captain replied, "but there is no understanding women, and, as everyone knows, Madame here is peculiarly fickle and uncertain. They all seem to go by the rule of contrary. She is an arrant coquette I'll be bound; but, Master, what a pretty foot and what a lovely leg."
"Dogvane!" cried the Buccaneer as he gazed upon the attractions alluded to, "you forget yourself." Then addressing the haughty beauty he said, "Madame, in what have I been so unfortunate as to meet with your displeasure? It is many years now since we had any cause for quarrel and all old wounds I trust are healed, and as I bear no malice, Madame, I hope you bear none. How then have I displeased you?"
"Monsieur, your memory methinks is short. Was I not set upon and beaten? Was I not hurt and bleeding? Was I not struck down until I bit the dust, and you never held out a hand to help me? Monsieur, my memory is better, I do not forget, I never shall."
"Oh! damn these violent memories!" exclaimed Dogvane aside.
"But, Madame, that is now an old old story," the Buccaneer replied. "Is it right to carry resentment so far? Is it acting up to the religion that we both profess?"
"Monsieur's reputation for piety is extremely great," said his fair neighbour, while a sneer played round her pretty mouth; she then added, "An injury, Monsieur, is never old."
"Madame!" cried the Buccaneer still wishing to appease, "you had my extreme sympathy."
"Sympathy!" cried Madame France, "sympathy! of what avail is that against battalions?"
"I dressed your wounds, I attended your sick and I sent you money, lint, and plaster."
"Sent me money!" exclaimed Madame France scornfully. Then suddenly changing her manner to a tone of polite sarcasm she said, "Pardon, Monsieur! I had forgotten, yes, you sent me money. It must have been a great sacrifice for you to part with what you love so well. The shopkeeper does not like to drain his till, even for a friend in need. I beg Monsieur's pardon a thousand times. I did not too fully appreciate his kindness. I have not sufficiently thanked my mercantile neighbour. Permit me, Monsieur," she said with a profound curtsey, "to thank you for your extravagant consideration and extreme sympathy."
The Buccaneer was going to reply; but Dogvane, fearing a storm, almost dragged his master away. "But this is not as it should be, Dogvane. It is not right."
As they went away Madame France muttered something, but the only word that reached the Buccaneer was "perfidious." This was an old retort.
"This is not right, Master Dogvane!" he cried.
"Decidedly wrong, sir. The grossest piece of ingratitude I have ever experienced. Ah! we can plainly see, she has not forgiven you for remaining neutral in her last row with her burly neighbour inland. But a stale page of history is that."
"Master Dogvane, even a woman's resentment cannot last too long. There must be something else. Have you, Master Dogvane, been doing anything to put her out?"
"I can tax my memory with nothing, sir; but the other watch, who can tell what they've been up to? Softly, my master, softly. For heaven's sake come away. Say nothing to increase her anger. The least said, soonest mended. Is she not fair to look upon?" added Dogvane looking back as did Lot's wife. "What ripe lips!"
"What has that to do with it?"
"Nothing, sir, nothing; what a lovely foot! what an ankle too! what a comely leg!"
"What the devil, I say again, has that to do with it?" cried the Buccaneer.
"Nothing, sir, nothing. I merely ventured the remark that she was comely. No doubt that other watch have been at their handiwork. Master, you are a bit too brusque in your manner. Women don't like it; if you had flattered more, you would have pleased more. You should have praised her beauty; gone into an ecstasy of delight over her many charms. Do you not think, sir, that the kirtle was an inch or two too long?"
The Buccaneer turned sharply upon his captain and rebuked him, told him plainly that although he was captain of his watch, he had no business to cast eyes upon his fair neighbour. Then he said, "She quarrelled with a friend of mine, and you are for ever telling me that I ought not to interfere, in things that don't concern me."
"You acted in that little affair, sir, like an upright, honest, gentleman; but do what you will you cannot please everyone. You did your best to prevent a row and you could do no more. But that is not where the shoe pinches. The other watch no doubt, the other watch. Let her alone, my master, to cool. When a woman is enraged, there is no arguing with her. No doubt some domestic trouble has disturbed her. She has always something on. Ah! I see it now," exclaimed Dogvane stopping short. "Some time ago she went in largely for old china and we all know that is an expensive luxury and probably the bill was larger than she expected. There are a thousand little things, trifles as light as air, in every household, that though hidden from the eye of the casual observer, help to ruffle the temper even of the most amiable woman. Did you notice, sir, her well turned ankle and shapely leg?" The old Buccaneer either did not hear, or did not approve of Dogvane's continued allusion to Madame France's charms. The captain, thinking he was still grieving over his cold reception, sought to console him by saying, "What though Madame France be cold and turn her back upon you, I feel confident that the island of Sark is with you to a man."
"The island of Sark!" exclaimed the Buccaneer in astonishment, "what has that to do with it?"
"Everything, sir," replied Dogvane. "For the island of Sark if not actually France is very near to it; and the moral support of such a place is not to be despised."
The Buccaneer seemed lost in meditation, from which he was only aroused by Dogvane exclaiming: "Ah! here we are, sir, at the door of your worthy German cousin, with whom you are allied by blood, by the holy bonds of wedlock, and by religion."
The mighty Von was sitting outside, in his garden overlooking the waters that divided him from his beautiful neighbour. He had a tankard by his side and a pipe in his mouth, for he was a great smoker.
The Buccaneer found that his reception here was scarcely more cordial than what it had been elsewhere. "Have I in any way done my worthy friend an injury?" the Buccaneer asked, turning to Dogvane.
"God forbid, sir, that you should do any man an injury," was the reply. "It has been my constant endeavour to keep you at peace with all men." This perhaps was true, but the result was not satisfactory.
"Give me an honest grip of thy friendly hand, neighbour," the Buccaneer exclaimed, as he held out his. The Von held out his but there was nothing hearty in the shake. "How is this, friend, thy grip used to be harder?" said the Buccaneer.
"Mein hand is mein own," replied the mighty Von.
"Tell me in what I have offended thee. If I have done thee an injury I will make amends. What, will my old friend not speak?"
"Mein counsel like mein hand is mein own, mein friend, and I keep them both."
"How do you account for this, Master Dogvane?" asked the Buccaneer, somewhat crestfallen.
"It is passing strange, sir, and I can only think that this is another piece of handiwork of the other watch. Their capacity for bungling is extremely great. But come away, sir. There is an old adage which says, 'it is ill to waken sleeping dogs.' It applies here." So saying he led his master away; but before they had gone very far Dogvane again stopped short. "Stay, I do remember there was some trivial dispute about a patch of barren land. Tut, tut, to think now that so great a friend should be affronted at such a trifle. The exact merits of the case have now escaped me; but as I was prepared to give way all round there need be no ill feeling on such a subject; only to think now—but there, some people are that touchy that there is no pleasing them." The captain now began to sing to an old well-known song, some words of his own—
"The Von a mighty man is he with large and sinewy arms."
"The Von a mighty man is he with large and sinewy arms."
"Dogvane, cease; this is no time to exercise your vocal powers. I have been a good friend to my German relations. I verily believe that I support half his army in the bands that are for ever braying out their discordant sounds in my streets. Then are not my own people constantly at me for employing my foreign relations to the prejudice of my own children? and with some show of justice too, for German bakers make my bread, German tailors make most of my clothes, and German Jews are constantly draining away my money. Do I not find royal wives for German princelets, and do I not dower them handsomely into the bargain? and yet they give me the cold shoulder in return. No matter who dances, Master Dogvane, it seems to me it is I who have to pay the piper. To one of my worthy friend's sons, poor fellow, I begrudged nothing, for he was a king of kings and a fine manly fellow, and one who will never die."
"Marriage, my master, often severs families instead of uniting them. This only bears out what I am constantly telling you, and that is to have as little as possible to do with your relations. But, master, a good deal of what we call ingratitude in others is due to faults in ourselves. We start by expecting more than we deserve, and are disappointed when we only get our deserts; but, of course, we never think of putting the saddle on the right back."
Our two travellers, weary, thirsty, and dust-stained, now came to Austria, and were in hopes of getting a more friendly reception; such a one, in fact, that would justify them in staying there and breaking bread and drinking a flagon of wine for the sake of good fellowship. But no, Dogvane had managed to tread upon the toes of Austria, and had got himself disliked even here. He swore it was a part of that terrible inheritance he had received over from the other watch. According to his own account, no man was ever so unfortunate.
Dogvane now entered upon a most lengthy and learned explanation upon the quality of gratitude, and what he said upon such a matter would deserve the greatest consideration, but weightier things still, attended upon their footsteps.
A messenger arrived post haste to say, that information had been received through the proper official channel, that the great Bandit of the East was behaving himself in an altogether unaccountable and strange manner. In fact, that he had broken into one Abdur's garden, and was playing, what was called in unofficial language general, Old Harry, there.
"Here is another of your confounded foreign relations cropping up," said Dogvane to himself.
"How about this, Master Dogvane?" exclaimed the Buccaneer.
"Why, this sort of thing, sir, has been going on for ages, and it is nothing more nor less than a party trick of the other watch, at the bottom of which, no doubt, is that mischievous young imp, Random Jack. I have myself frequently asked the Eastern Bandit about these unsavoury reports, and his smile was childlike and bland as he replied, that if anything was going on wrong, he knew nothing about it. He is a truthful and a Christian man and would not tell a lie, not for the whole Empire of India. At least, if he would, I have no official information upon the subject."
"Well, Master Dogvane, the readiest way to set the matter at rest is to go and see for ourselves."
"That would be a most undignified proceeding, sir. You cannot expect foreign nations to respect you if you go and poke your nose into other people's dustbins. Besides, sir, it would be a most unconstitutional thing; and before undertaking it, we at least ought to retrace our steps home and set the official mind at work to find out a precedent. Then if such a thing can be found, which I very much doubt, we will at once proceed to the scene of action, and throw the light of our official eye upon the Eastern Bandit, who, no doubt, being dazzled and frightened by such an unusual occurrence, will fear some revolution of nature, and so retire to his own ground."
"Master Dogvane, the official coach is far too slow for an occasion like this. We can walk the distance very much quicker, so set thy face to the East and march. And on our way we will pay the honest Turk a visit."
"Oh lord!" exclaimed Dogvane to himself, "here is another kettle of fish. Sir, are we not tired, hungry, and thirsty? And the weather is much too warm for such a journey. But, if go we must, gallivanting about in the East, we shall save a little, sir, if we leave this Turk on our right hand."
"Master Dogvane, the Turk is a friend of mine. We have fought side by side against the Eastern Bandit, and may be we shall have to do so again. I will therefore pay my respects to him."
"I would kick him bag and baggage out of Europe if I had my way," muttered old Dogvane.
The Buccaneer found the head of the Moslem world pensively smoking his chibouck. "Ah!" said he, "you, at least, my honest friend, will not turn your back upon me. I have at least you to fall back upon."
"Monsieur, I salute you," said the Turk with extreme politeness. "When you want to get anything out of me you call me friend and honest Turk; when you do not, I am a rogue, a vagabond, and little better than a barbarian. A while since, and your captain was for kicking me, bag and baggage, out of Europe." Dogvane was a little taken aback at having been overheard, but he soon recovered himself and was ready to argue that if his words were taken properly they could bear no such signification.
The Buccaneer was so taken by surprise that he could not speak, while Dogvane, shading his eyes with his hand, cast a look towards the beautiful Golden Horn, to see if the yacht was there, for he was weary of travelling, and had become what is called home-sick, and had he never had to consider things abroad, the chances are it would have been very much better for his reputation, and for that of his master. He said, "What is the use of your meandering in foreign parts, sir, you have a nice, snug, well-feathered little nest in the Western Ocean, where everything smiles upon you. There lies your yacht; then let us aboard: weigh anchor, and make for the rosy bed of the setting sun."
The Turk interrupted: "It suits your purpose, mon ami," he said, addressing the Buccaneer, "to seek my friendship now. But the honest Turk was not born yesterday, and he is very much more than seven, so he allies himself with those who will not cast him off when they have no further need of him."
This roused the suspicions of the Buccaneer. "Whatever you do," he cried, "do not ally yourself with the Eastern Bandit. Give him a wide berth or he will pluck you to your last feather."
"An open enemy," replied the Turk, "is better than a treacherous friend. Pat my back to-day; kick—but no matter, Allah is good! There is but one God, and Mohammed is his prophet."
"Treacherous friend," ejaculated the Buccaneer, turning to the captain. "Does the Turk call me treacherous, Master Dogvane?"
"Heaven forbid such a thing, sir! The Turk merely made a general remark, which in the abstract no doubt is true. But, master, leave the Turk alone. If you do not come speedily away he will borrow of you for a certainty."
"But he has been my friend, Master Dogvane, for these many years."
"True, sir; and you have treated him more kindly than you usually do your friends, whom you occasionally fall out with; even coming to blows at times. But the Turk's friendship, good master, is of a costly kind. He is a ready borrower, but a tardy payer. Look at the money he has spent in riotous living? Honest enough, no doubt; but as he is always out at elbows he cannot afford to indulge in such a luxury. A needy friend, good master, is a constant source of annoyance; for when poverty comes, pride goes, and your friend soon sinks into the degraded position of a most importunate and shameless beggar."
"I do not like to turn my back upon a friend just because he is down in the world, Master Dogvane."
"The feeling does you credit; it is noble; but, good sir, we must draw a line, lest at any time we give countenance to vice. We often deceive ourselves, and act as we think, generously, either out of idleness or fear, lest the babbling world should condemn us for want of kindness to those in need. God forbid that you should forsake a friend because he is down! But when a man has brought his suffering and misfortunes upon himself, then, good master, sympathy is bestowed upon a worthless object. Why should you assist one who will not help himself? Who so long as he can borrow will spend? The Turk will not live within his means, and you have found, sir, that you cannot enjoy his friendship without paying heavily for it." With reflections like these Dogvane led his master away, and the Turk watched their retreating steps with half-closed eyes; but yet he was not asleep; but the precise nature of his thoughts cannot, for obvious reasons, be disclosed.
"Oh for a sniff of the fresh sea air!" cried Dogvane, as he looked wistfully towards the ocean. "To feel yourself once more afloat, master, with your empire beneath your feet, and your good little ship dancing merrily to the music of the waves, would make a different man of you."
"Aye, aye, Master Dogvane, perhaps it would; but I have other fish to fry just at present. Those were merry days when I ploughed the seas in search of adventure, and it all comes back to me like a dream. I fancy I hear now the clack, clack of my many windlasses; the yo! heave-ho! of my merry men, as they sheeted home their sails, and mast-headed their yards. The brave sea fights; the brilliant actions of my lads; the sinking of the enemy's ships, all, all comes back upon me. I fancy I can see my merry men, pike in hand, swarming over the ship's sides, while we poured in broadsides muzzle to muzzle. I almost hear their shouts. They strike, they strike, Dogvane, while our colours still fly proudly over us, nailed to the mast. See the ocean blurred with their life's blood. Ah! it is past, Dogvane, it is past. Lend me thy shoulder, man, lend me thy shoulder, for my eyes are dim. Alas! they are clouded by memory. Are those good old days gone, never, never to return?"
Dogvane had learned from experience that when his master had on him one of these fits of despondency, the best thing to be done was to let him alone. He contented himself with saying, "Every age, my master, has its advantages. We cannot say that the spring is more beautiful than the summer, nor yet the summer than the autumn, while hoary-headed winter is not free from charms."
Away our two friends journeyed until they came to a high eminence which commanded a good view of all the country round. At their feet was spread the garden of Abdur, and in the distance was to be seen the El Dorado of the East. The fair lands of the Buccaneer's Indian Princess. How lovely it all looked; the hot sun streaming down on plains covered with jungle and the tall cocoanut trees with their long stems and bushy heads; and the shady plaintain with its long, broad leaves. Then rivers wound through the plain like huge silver serpents making their endless way to the sea.
As may be easily imagined, the Buccaneer who was not accustomed to such lengthy and arduous journeys, was completely done up, for the ascent had been steep and difficult; often had he stopped to admire the scenery, an excuse generally made by the weary, who are too proud to admit that they are in the smallest degree overcome. Rivulets of perspiration were running down the old gentleman's face, and it took him some time to mop himself and gain his breath. Dogvane, as the saying is, had not turned a hair. Whether this was on account of the paucity of that article, or the general leanness of his condition, it is not necessary to say.
The Buccaneer sat and contemplated in silence the beauty of the scene before him, while the captain of his watch looked through the left corner of his eye towards Abdur's home. Presently a shout in that direction made the Buccaneer start from his happy reverie, and turning to his left there he saw the Eastern Bandit, apparently enjoying himself in Abdur's garden, and not keeping to the pathways either, but trampling borders and beds under foot. "Hallo! Master Dogvane," exclaimed the Buccaneer, "sure enough there he is at his handiwork, just as we were told."
"Be not too hasty, master," Dogvane replied. "Things are not always as they seem; so somebody has said, and I believe him. We are absolutely without any official information on the subject, while, on the contrary, I have the august Bandit's word for it, that he wants nothing out of Abdur's garden, and I believe him, for the fruit is of a prickly kind, and not at all enticing. In fact, more fit for asses than for human beings."
"Facts are stubborn things, Master Dogvane, and seeing surely is believing."
"Not always, sir; for how many people are deceived by their eyes? one swearing he saw one thing, another swearing the very reverse. Things are deceptive, more especially when seen through glasses dimmed by prejudice." Dogvane said nothing about the dimness of the official eye, which is well known to be as nearly blind as possible, without being absolutely so. He put his glass up and took a survey, taking good care that that part of Abdur's garden where the Bandit was should not come within his range. "For my part," he said, "I do not think the Eastern Bandit is in Abdur's garden. You may depend upon it, sir, he is merely going through the time honoured custom of beating the bounds."
"Then you go down, Master Dogvane, and see that the boundaries are fairly marked."
"It has ever been the custom to take some small boy, and by bumping him or whipping him upon the breech at certain places, to engraft the boundaries indelibly upon his memory. I am too old a man for this. It is a thousand pities that we have not young Random Jack with us. He is for ever wishing to render you some signal service, as much to make a name for himself as to do good to you. Now, this would be an excellent opportunity for him to show his zeal, and I regret extremely that the lad is not here. It would be well worth while to send for him."
Dogvane's meditations were put a stop to by the Buccaneer exclaiming, as he brought down his telescope and shut up the slides with a bang: "As I hope to be saved, Master Dogvane, the Bandit is in our friend Abdur's garden!" Here he opened his spy-glass again and took another look. "And what is more," he added, "the rascal seems inclined to lay his hands upon what does not belong to him."
Fat as the Buccaneer had grown, and lazy as his prosperity and good living had made him, he did at times rouse himself, and when he did he frequently flew into the most violent fits of passion, and made use of the most terrible language, and altogether forgetting that he was a Christian he would swear like any Turk, or the proverbial trooper. Our friend was now seized with a warlike epidemic, which, as a rule, is very infectious. He was for fighting his old enemy at once, for he felt fully persuaded that he must be in the wrong. Dogvane, the man of peace, tried to calm his master down, and begged him to take things quietly; saying that it was time enough to draw the sword when diplomacy failed.
The Buccaneer when he heard that word, ripped out several oaths of such a nature, as to make Dogvane's hair stand on end. This annoyed the Buccaneer still more, and he requested Dogvane, in tones not to be disobeyed, not to do it. The captain apologized, and declared it was the "wind, and nothing more;" showing that his mind was far away. The Buccaneer, however, quickly brought him back to his senses, by commanding him to ask the Eastern Bandit, in the politest manner possible, what the devil he meant, by trespassing upon other people's property. Of course, things had to be done in a proper way, and strictly according to custom. Dogvane knew very well that it was quite useless to ask the Eastern Bandit for any information, because, whatever his intentions might be, it was not at all likely that he would disclose them. To do so, would be to act in a manner altogether undiplomatic. But obedient to his master's commands, the captain of the watch went to a small rivulet that sprang out of the mountain side close by. This tiny stream after bounding from rock to rock of its mountain bed, fell down into the plain below, and then widening and growing deeper and deeper, rolled lazily through Abdur's garden, refreshing its parched soil with its grateful waters.
Dogvane put his hand to the side of his mouth and sent down on the bosom of the rivulet a request couched in the most polite language to know what the great Bandit of the East was about. Back came a voice from the plains below, saying, "The august Bandit of the East, the master of many millions of slaves, requests the Buccaneer of the West to mind his own business."
"Tells me to mind my own business, does he? And call you that a diplomatic answer, Master Dogvane?"
"Most assuredly," replied the captain. "It would have been quite as easy for him to have told you to go to the devil. How can you find fault with him, or anyone else, for telling you to mind your own business. It is what every right-minded and honest man ought to do."
"But it is what every right-minded and honest man does not like to be told to do. This business is mine, Master Dogvane. Do you not see that he is putting his huge foot forward?"
"My eyesight in such things is somewhat dim; but be not hasty. In times past, sir, your rashness has led you into sad trouble. For all we know the Eastern Bandit does but stretch his leg, preparatory to making a backward movement. For my part, I think this must be so. I go so far as to say that it is so; for I have entered into an agreement with him; or it may be an arrangement, or even a sacred covenant."
"The devil take your covenant!" cried the Buccaneer, "I am going to see into this little matter myself," and away the old gentleman started off, with a speed that endangered his neck. Dogvane needs must follow; but he was not so good going down as up a hill on occasions like this. "Steady, my master! Steady!" he cried. "The more haste, the less speed. God forbid that we should not uphold the sacred ties of friendship; but, sir, I beg you; I beseech you, not to be rash. Remember, those who quarrels interpose, often wipe a bloody nose. Let us try the gentle force of reason first, then if that fails—"
"What then, Master Dogvane?" said the Buccaneer, stopping and turning round to confront his captain.
"Time, sir, and the course of events alone can tell. In a good cause, in a righteous cause, old Will Dogvane will be found ever ready to draw the sword."
"Damme! Dogvane, there's life in the old dog yet."
"Sir, swear not; it makes my blood curdle in my veins."
"Dogvane! Dogvane!" cried the Buccaneer, "As I live he is beating Abdur's children!"
"And why not, sir? why not? no doubt, they richly deserve it. Have you not taken the liberty of doing the self same thing yourself?"
They were now very much closer, and Dogvane put up his glass to his official eye, and declared he saw nothing out of the way going on. This so irritated the Buccaneer, that he performed something in the nature of a miracle, and he made Dogvane receive his sight. He owned that he did see something in the nature of a beating taking place. Then he said by way of excuse: "You can not expect, sir, to have a monopoly of beating other people's children. But at any rate," he continued, "the time has come for us to show the Eastern Bandit that we are not to be trifled with. We are now near enough for him to see. The man who will not stand up for a friend in need, deserves to be branded with the name of coward."
"Bravo, Dogvane!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, "I don't care for sentiment, as a rule; for it generally cloaks some infernal rascality; but damme that's a good sentiment, and one to my liking."
Dogvane felt an honest pride in having thus pleased his master. He felt also encouraged, so taking off his coat and turning up his shirt sleeves he said, "When the Eastern Bandit sees the sinews of my goodly arms, he will, no doubt, become frightened, and pause ere he provokes me to anger; but, master, you will stand by me?"
"Through thick and thin, Dogvane!"
"It will be a costly affair, for I needs must make gigantic preparations. I shall have to go into training."
"Name but your sum, Dogvane, and it is yours," cried the fighting old Buccaneer in an ecstasy of delight.
"It cannot be done comfortably, sir, under £11,000,000," replied the captain.
"It is yours, Dogvane! It is yours, I am rich, and I am generous."
"Has the taking off of my coat in any way frightened him, my master? Your eyesight is better than mine."
"Not a bit, Dogvane. The beggar is dancing about just as if the whole place belonged to him. Go in, old man, and win. Nail your colours to the mast," the old sea king could not forget his early days, with its quaint language. "And may God defend the right!" he piously exclaimed as he took off his hat and raised his eyes devoutly to heaven. Of course there could be little doubt in the Buccaneer's own mind as to who was in the right. As has already been stated he fully believed that God was always on his side, and if he did come off second best, it was the Devil who for some good reason was allowed, for the time being, to prevail against him. This is a pardonable vanity and is shared by many other pious and devout people. With Dogvane it was different. He was blessed, or cursed according to the way it is looked at, with a most tender conscience, and though he never allowed it for any length of time to stand in his way, it caused him so to act, that people condemned him as a splitter of straws and a weigher of scruples. While he was thus occupied he generally allowed the golden opportunity to pass by and thus he frequently brought his wares to the market a day or so after the fair. And many a time the words "too late" were hung out over the gate he wished to enter at.
Scarcely had the Buccaneer finished the above pious ejaculation than Dogvane's stout right arm fell listlessly to his side. He drooped his head as he repeated, in a low tone of voice, the words of his master: "And may God defend the right! That sends a cold thrill through every vein in my body. Suppose," he said, addressing his master. "Suppose; I say suppose, my master, we are in the wrong, what a weight of blood-guiltiness will rest upon our heads? Suppose we are in the wrong, and being in the wrong we spill the blood of a fellow-creature? Good master, I have a qualm of conscience."
"Oh! damn your conscience!" cried the Buccaneer, whose blood was up. Of course such language is reprehensible in the extreme; no matter who uses it; but it is doubly so when it falls from the lips of a pious Christian gentleman. But, good people all, what is bred in the bone, will come out in the flesh. Dogvane recoiled from such language.
"Damn not my conscience, sir, nor that of any other man," he said, for his religion was unlike many a modern lady's beauty, it was even more than skin deep.
"Conscience," continued Dogvane, "is the guiding star by which we steer these frail barks of ours through life. Too many of us do not, consequently we find ourselves lost amidst shoals and quicksands. In a just cause, in a righteous cause I will fight."
"What!" cried the Buccaneer in amazement, "are you going to put your coat on again?"
"This, sir, is a matter that must receive our gravest consideration. Before we fight we must thoroughly sift the matter in the inmost recesses of the mind, until we are fully convinced of the sacredness of our cause. The man—"
"Stay, Master Dogvane! Not another word in that direction as you value the wholeness of your skin. Give me anything you like; but damme, don't try my temper with another sentiment."
"What I was going to say, most noble master, is this. If we have in any way offended the Bandit of the East, we must make what reparation we can by craving his pardon."
"What!" cried the Buccaneer, "are you going to humble me before all the world?"
"Nay, sir; call it not by such a name. It is a noble thing, and the act of a great and generous mind to own freely that it is in the wrong. I do not humble you. I exalt you and place you upon a high pinnacle of perfection. It requires more courage to own oneself in the wrong than it does to take up the sword. It stands to reason, sir, that we both cannot be in the right; this being conceded why should not the wrong be on our side, nay, what more likely than that it is? Let us then sheathe the bloody brutalizing sword until the merits of the case are fully shown."
"And are all your mighty words to go for nothing, Master Dogvane? How about my honour? How about my honour?" said the Buccaneer sorrowfully.
"Honour, sir!" replied Dogvane. "Honour! what is honour that you should shed human blood over it? It is but a breath that comes from the mouths of other people, and the same mouth is as ready to damn as bless. This honour, what is it? It is here to-day, it is gone to-morrow, and is hunted often to death by envy, hatred, and malice, until in the end it is handed over to the tender mercies of its adversary shame. This self same honour that is so much lauded, is a picker of quarrels, a shedder of blood, a vain boaster, and a veritable swashbuckler. This honour is the veriest bubble that man ever fought for, or prated about, and it has done more mischief in the world than any other of man's vain causes of strife; because no principle has been so plentifully abused, except, perhaps, the principle of religion. For this self same honour, or its shadow, you have sacrificed countless thousands of your own sons, and slaughtered countless thousands of other people's. For the sake of this honour you have burdened yourself with a debt that you will carry with you to your grave and it will bend your back, more and more each day you live. God grant that in the end it does not crush you beneath its weight. We will place this matter in the hands of others who will arbitrate between you and the Eastern Bandit, who, I cannot but think, is grossly maligned. This, good master, will be a more humane, a more civilised, and a more Christian method of settling your dispute."
During this harangue of Dogvane's the spirits of the Buccaneer kept on falling and falling until despair sat heavily at his heart. There was something quite pathetic in his bearing as he said: "Master Dogvane, I do not wish to be better than my neighbours. They are all Christians, and yet they all fight. Madame France is armed to the teeth. My German cousin sleeps in armour always, with one eye open. Then, why should I hang up my sword, pistols and buckler and resent neither rebuke, insult, nor injury? In such a matter as this, is it wise to trust to a third party?"
"Master, what does your religion teach you? Be you the pioneer of a better state of things. God knows we have had fighting enough."
"I wish my old coxswain were here," said the Buccaneer. "This is an occasion when his advice would come in well." Perhaps, had he been present he might have told his master that he had better turn monk at once and start a monastery if he intended to follow the advice of the captain of the watch. Why, you ask, did not this fighting, hard swearing, and hard drinking old sea king whip out his hanger and go in at the Bandit himself?
Good people all, it must be remembered, that he now conducted his business on purely constitutional principles, and he would have violated some one or many of these had he so acted. So wedded was he to his constitution that it is probable he would have preferred to be utterly ruined by sticking to it, than saved by going in any way against it. He was a great stickler for routine, red tape, and custom. They, for the time, left the Eastern Bandit in the full enjoyment of his actions. Dogvane broke the silence. "Sir," he said, "I have in my mind's eye a worthy potentate who may, for a small consideration, be induced to serve you in this dispute you have with the Eastern Bandit. King Hokeepokeewonkeefum—"
"What!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, in surprise.
"Does the length of the name astonish you, sir? We have near neighbours whose names, were they all joined together, far exceed the one just mentioned. All great and illustrious people have long names; but they are all capable of contraction. King Hokee, sir, as we will for brevity call him."
"What!" exclaimed the Buccaneer again, almost breathless with amazement. "Entrust my affairs to a black?" There was an adjective used, but for various reasons it has not been recorded.
"Surely, sir," replied Dogvane, "you are above the prejudice of colour. Though black, King Hokee has no doubt a mind particularly free from prejudice. Is he not a man and a brother? Besides, sir, to borrow somewhat from perhaps a greater William than myself: Hath not King Hokee eyes? Hath he not hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? If he has not I have no official information on the subject. Is he not fed by the same food, hurt by the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as we are? If you prick King Hokee, think you he will not bleed? If you tickle him, will he not laugh? If you poison him, will he not die?"
"Cease, Master Dogvane; no more of this. You have stabbed me, and verily I bleed. To think that the old sea king should be brought so low as to ask a favour from a damned black!"
For certain weighty reasons the adjective here is not omitted.
"Have I then no friend, Master Dogvane; no great neighbour to whom I can entrust this affair?"
"It is one of the penalties attached to greatness, sir, to be without friends. The great stand upon an eminence and look down upon a gaping crowd of admirers, flatterers, and detractors; but they have no friends, at least not worth the mentioning. Besides, King Hokee would do the thing cheaper. A tin star with an appropriate appellation would satisfy him, and you could make him pay handsomely for the star."
"Am I then placed so high up on this bleak and sterile peak? I have done a great deal for Egypt; surely she will show me some little kindness? To show that my prejudice for colour is not great I will place the matter in her hands."
"People served, sir, have but short memories," was Dogvane's reply.
"We will at any rate break our journey back there, Master Dogvane, and we can mention the subject to the gipsy queen."
The captain did not seem to relish this, for he said in a disparaging manner: "Yes, you have done a good deal for the gipsy; but the man who does not wish to be disappointed will expect gratitude from no one, least of all from a woman. In Egypt, sir, our game has been, I own, a subtle one; but, like the villain in the play, we have been obliged, and still must dissemble, so as not to excite the jealousy of our neighbours."
Dogvane loved dissembling. "Sir," he added, as he shut one eye and put the forefinger of his right hand to the side of his nose in a most knowing manner, "we have not thought it wise to let the gipsy woman into our little secret. We have set up in Egypt a dummy whom we call a ruler. Behind his back we pull the strings of administration. When all goes well we come in front and make our bow to the audience, and receive our well merited applause. When anything goes wrong, we beat our dummy; he does not mind, and it would be all the same if he did; our neighbours are satisfied, and their suspicions are allayed."
"Is this honourable, Dogvane?"
"Sir, it is most diplomatic, consequently, it cannot be less than honourable."
The Buccaneer thought for awhile and then said: "It would have been better for me, Master Dogvane, to have seized the country at once. There would have been a cackling in some of my neighbours' poultry yards, but it would have saved an infinity of trouble in the end."
Dogvane was horrified at such a suggestion. This was a falling off and a going back with a vengeance. "Such a wholesale act of robbery," he said, "would perhaps have been pardonable in your old Buccaneering days, when you laid your hands on what you could, and did all you could to keep it; but in this, your age of extreme respectability, it would never do. Why! you would have had all your neighbours buzzing about your ears like a swarm of angry wasps. The act would have been most undiplomatic."
Here apparently some unpleasant thoughts entered the Buccaneer's mind, for a cloud passed over his face. "Diplomacy," he said; "that has never been a very strong point with me. I like to be open and above board, at least, at one time I did, and I loved to call a spade a spade. This diplomacy, Master Dogvane, is a genteel kind of a highwayman, who is not above insinuating his hands into the pockets of the unwary, while he distracts the attention of his victim by expressing towards him the highest esteem and regard. I would quite as soon he showed himself in his true colours and cried out boldly: 'Stand and deliver.'"
The journey homewards was a sad one, for the spirits of the old sea king were entirely broken. The captain of the watch tried all he could to cheer him up. He drew in fancy a pleasing picture of the island home they had left; of the contentment, prosperity, and happiness that reigned there, and old Dogvane did not forget to lay on the colours. As an artist in this line he was extremely good. As they left the domes and minarets of the grand Turk behind them, Dogvane turned to his master and said: "I cannot see why so good and great a man as my august master is, should not be content to rest upon the laurels he has already earned."
Flattery is at all times acceptable, and to all people; the only difference being that to suit the vulgar appetite you must lay it on thick, while to the refined the touches must be delicate and smooth. Dogvane, seeing the good effect that this kind of physic had upon his master, administered a little more. "Now take this Egyptian woman's case. See what you have done for her. You have tried to put down slavery. You have set your face against the brutal lash. You have tried at least to banish the evil-minded, blood-sucking Pasha, and in doing all this you have spent millions of money, and have sacrificed many of your bravest sons. One, even, we immolated at the shrine of the great god Necessity. We placed him in a pit even as Joseph was placed in a pit; but alas! Joseph was more fortunate; our offering was slain. Think you, sir, that in return for all this you will receive gratitude?"
"Master Dogvane, Egypt has always been of great interest to me, and through her lands I consider I have a right-of-way. Thus I have done very much for her, and if for nothing else, she ought to thank me for putting down that most barbarous of all things, the traffic in human beings."
"Sir, look rather for your reward in the righteousness of the cause. The man—"
"Stay, Master Dogvane; if you are going to give me another sentiment, spare me I beseech you."
"I was merely going to observe, sir, that the man who places the smallest faith in a woman's constancy, digs a pit for himself, into which he is sooner or later sure to fall."
Dogvane, for reasons best known to himself, was decidedly against this visit to Egypt. He seemed to be in some doubt as to the reception he would receive; but all his endeavours to dissuade his master were of no avail. The Buccaneer himself thought that Egypt must needs consider herself under the greatest obligation to him; but the best of men, and even the wisest, are often deceived, more especially as regards themselves. The poor man wanted consolation, and he was ready to go anywhere to obtain it.
There was no greater enemy in the world to the slave-dealer than was this great Buccaneer and fighting trader. He was forever going about, trying to put a stop to the degrading traffic, more especially when the wretched victims were black. His ships of war had strict orders to chase and capture all slavers found on the High Seas. His missionaries preached against the heinous trade. Both watches condemned it, and all the people of every description of belief, held up their hands in pious horror at the barter in flesh and blood. All, from the schoolboy just breeched, to the old man, whose tottering steps were leading him to the grave, were lovers of freedom, and the sworn enemies of slavery.
But, strange to say, when Jonathan attempted to put down slavery, the Buccaneer's sympathies were on the side of the slave-owner. Stranger still, though he was forever trying to put down slavery amongst other people, he allowed it to be practised to a very large extent amongst his own. Of course it was clothed in fine garments of rich words, so the sinfulness of the thing was hidden from his own eyes; but the whole of his society was little better than a huge market, where white slaves were bought and sold every day. Sold by heartless and mercenary mothers, to whom a rich equipage and a good social position was of far more consideration than any foolish and antiquated feelings of the heart, all of which are mere matters of sentiment, and weigh as light as air in comparison to the many advantages that gold can buy. It was no uncommon thing to see a fair, and perchance a blushing maiden, sold for a price to some withered piece of humanity. Their shameless mothers gave their daughters as they parted with them the kiss of Judas, and bedewed their fair young cheeks with the tears of hypocrisy, and then hastened to their churches to thank their God that they were not as others, doubters, perhaps, and unbelievers.
This inhuman traffic in human souls found its moral in one of the Buccaneer's law courts, the proceedings of which were emptied out amongst the people, and eagerly devoured by them. It must be owned that the victims of this trade bore their misfortunes with becoming fortitude. Having been well schooled by their mothers the degradation was not altogether clear to them, nor the narrow space that divided them from their less fortunate and despised sisters.
Like many other highly civilised communities the social atmosphere of the Buccaneer's island was largely impregnated with sham. Everything lay upon the surface, there was no depth. There was not only a greed for money, but there was a great greed for excitement, and a passionate desire on the part of the rich and vulgar nobodies to scramble up into a position higher than that to which they were either entitled, or fit for, and not unfrequently people who had the entry into what was called good society, let themselves out for a consideration to these upstarts, who would consider it a great condescension to be kicked down-stairs by one of noble birth. It was all this that perhaps gave a colouring to the sayings of those who declared that our bold Buccaneer was about the biggest humbug and hypocrite that ever walked upon the face of the earth.
Our two travellers occupied themselves with many pious speculations on their way to the land of the Pharaohs, for Dogvane for a sailor, was well up in the Scriptures, and his knowledge of the Old Testament was considerable. They compared the past with the present, and wandered through many flowery fields of thought, until the land they sought came up out of the sea before them.
As they approached the Buccaneer swept the shores with his glass, "She seems to be going in for repairs, Master Dogvane." Dogvane remained silent, as his eyes rested upon the land in front. He knew more about things than he wished to say. "I told you, sir," he said, "that we had knocked down a few forts."
As they approached nearer they saw the Egyptian Queen sitting upon a heap of ruins; her right elbow on her knee, her head resting upon her hand. Her flashing eyes showed there was anger in her heart; that something was wrong. Dogvane evidently did not like the look of things, for when his master landed he hung back; but the Buccaneer, not knowing the cause of Egypt's sorrow, went boldly forward. When he spoke Egypt turned so fiercely upon him, that he was taken completely aback. "Hence fiend!" she cried, as she pointed to the sea. The Buccaneer looked for his captain, but that worthy was keeping out of the way and was pretending to look for shell fish. His master hailed him and he arrived just in time to hear Egypt say, "The Ten Plagues with which God smote me in days of old were as blessings compared with thy accursed friendship."
"Dogvane!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, "how's this?"
"'Tis passing strange, sir! all official information is dumb upon the subject." Then turning aside he said: "How the hag raves."
Egypt rose up from her throne of crumbled stones and stood majestic. Extending her right arm towards her afflicted country and looking at the Buccaneer, with eyes filled with hatred, she exclaimed, "You have slain my children and their blood has flowed out like water upon the sands of the desert. Their bones lie bleaching in the sun; a witness to thy barbarity and cruelty You have burnt my children's homes; driven off their flocks, laid waste their lands and destroyed their wells; but with parched throats and blistered tongues they curse you."
"Dear me!" was all the Buccaneer could say. Egypt continued: "You have set my children at each other's throats, and yet you dare stand before me." The Buccaneer turned to go away and Dogvane prepared to follow and showed considerable alacrity in getting to the boat. The parting words of Egypt fell upon the ears of the old Sea King and dwelt long in his memory; being very unwelcome guests there; making their voices heard when all else was wrapped in slumber. "Hence thou blighting plague!" she cried, or rather hissed. "Begone thou hypocrite! thou Christian masquerader! for in thy footsteps follow poverty, ruin, and misery. May the curses of the widow and the fatherless attend thee!"
"Tut, tut!" ejaculated Dogvane, "how the hussy raves!"
"God bless me!" exclaimed the Buccaneer, when they were well away. "What say you to that, Master Dogvane?"
"As a curse, sir, it is undoubtedly good, and as a specimen of female anger it is by no means bad. The baggage! Here is ingratitude for you. But I told you how it would be, sir. I had a kind of a presentiment that the other watch had been at their handiwork even here."
"If you, Master Dogvane, were as ready to keep out of difficulties as you are to saddle them upon other people's backs it would be the better for you."
"It is enough to make a saint swear," replied the captain. "I feel inclined to register a vow to heaven never again to do a good turn to a living soul. What language the vixen used!"
"She called me a hypocrite! a Christian masquerader! I, who pride myself upon my righteousness. I, who have held my head so high, to be called a Christian masquerader!"
"Sir," said Dogvane with extreme respect, "if one so humble, may dare offer an opinion, I should say that pride is not a Christian virtue, and sooner or later it must have its fall."
"Yes, fellow! but I do not want the fall to come from thy hands. Is this what you call being respected abroad? Is this your pinnacle of greatness?"
"I am not to blame, my master. It is the other watch. What though the Egyptian gipsy raves; what though our cousin Germany and fickle France be cold, and Austria and Turkey aggrieved by some idle words, say if you like, of mine, you have with you, my master, the whole Calf of Man."
"Out upon thee for a blatant wind-bag!" cried the Buccaneer, now out of all patience with Dogvane. "Out of my sight," he exclaimed, "keep clear of me, or, by Heaven, you will have with you the whole toe of my broad boot." They took to their boat, and the Buccaneer ordered his men to bend their backs to their oars. Dogvane, who knew his master too well to trifle with him in his present mood, doubled himself up in the bows, and taking out of his pocket his Bible, he was soon lost in the Mosaic Cosmogony.