The second day brought them into the coast of Somerset, and in the forenoon of the third they arrived at the Palmers' four-and-forty foot houseboat, The Cleveland The Cleveland. As they climbed aboard, the Dashwoods and their companions bade a hearty good-bye to the crew of the Rusted Nail Rusted Nail; Mr. Benbow and his company hoisted anchor and set sail, top guns loaded and Jolly Roger fluttering, on hard lookout for Dreadbeard.

The Cleveland consisted (rather marvelously) of a s.p.a.cious, well-built two-story cottage, in the country style, with French windows and a charming verandah-all serving as the cabin atop a wide-decked river-ship; the ship was piloted, when it left its moorings, by a giant captain's wheel which sat just beyond the front, or bow-ward, door of the cottage; through a trap at the stern connected to the holds, below. Marianne climbed aboard the houseboat with a heart swelling with emotion from the consciousness of being only eighty miles from Pestilent Isle, and not thirty from Willoughby's lair at Combe Magna; and before she had been five minutes in consisted (rather marvelously) of a s.p.a.cious, well-built two-story cottage, in the country style, with French windows and a charming verandah-all serving as the cabin atop a wide-decked river-ship; the ship was piloted, when it left its moorings, by a giant captain's wheel which sat just beyond the front, or bow-ward, door of the cottage; through a trap at the stern connected to the holds, below. Marianne climbed aboard the houseboat with a heart swelling with emotion from the consciousness of being only eighty miles from Pestilent Isle, and not thirty from Willoughby's lair at Combe Magna; and before she had been five minutes in The Cleveland The Cleveland's gently listing parlour, while the others were busily helping Charlotte to show her child to the ship's maid, she quitted it again, went ash.o.r.e and clambered atop a charming mud dune. Marianne's eye, wandering over a wide tract of country to the southeast, could fondly rest on the farthest ridge of hills in the horizon, and fancy that from their summits Combe Magna might be seen.

In such moments of precious, invaluable misery, she rejoiced in tears of agony to be on The Cleveland The Cleveland; and as she returned by a different circuit to the houseboat, feeling all the happy privilege of country liberty, she resolved to spend almost every hour of every day while she remained with the Palmers, in the indulgence of such solitary rambles.

Marianne returned just in time to join the others as they quitted the house, on an excursion through its more immediate premises, and was promptly upbraided by her sister for the lack of sensible caution shown by such a venture.

"Is it your earnest desire to be murdered by rapacious pirates?" demanded Elinor. "After such a narrow escape from the destruction of Sub-Marine Station Beta, can you be so foolish as to risk your life by wandering so directly into harm's way? Did you forget the tales of Dread-beard whispered by the men upon the Nail Nail?"

Marianne was preparing to respond, when Mrs. Palmer broke in with her happy laugh.

"In fact," said she, laughing lightly, "we are as safe here as possible, and can fear nothing in the surrounding country."

In response to Elinor's puzzled inquiries, Mr. Palmer gruffly related that, indeed, Dreadbeard was the fiercest of the pirates who plied these waters, and the one most feared as murderous and vengeful. But Palmer, or so he explained, had once served alongside him when both were but boys and sailors in His Majesty's service, on a fire-serpent hunting mission off the coast of Africa; Palmer, seeing where his shipmate had fallen into the sea, clambered out onto the bowsprit, leapt into the water, and rescued the other boy-just as he was about to be consumed bodily by a crocodile. If there was one code respected by Dreadbeard (and, as far as could be discerned, there was but the one) it was that a man who had saved his life would never fall under harm by his hands, and to the contrary would live under his protection.

And so, upon his retirement, Palmer had moored his houseboat here, off Somerset Sh.o.r.e, where others would be most most afraid, but where he and Mrs. Palmer could live the most securely-safe not only from Dreadbeard but also from any other murdering freebooter, none of whom would dare to harm anyone whose safety was guaranteed by the most merciless of buccaneers. afraid, but where he and Mrs. Palmer could live the most securely-safe not only from Dreadbeard but also from any other murdering freebooter, none of whom would dare to harm anyone whose safety was guaranteed by the most merciless of buccaneers.

"If I had never pulled that lunatic from the crocodile's mouth, and Dreadbeard were to discover us here, having heaved anchor in the very bosom of his territory, he would slaughter us all and cook us for stew- but only after having his unsavory way with the women and torturing every man slowly, for the sheer pleasure of it," Palmer concluded grimly.

"Ah!" laughed Mrs. Palmer. "How droll!"

"Wouldn't it be a tremendous thing, though," sighed Marianne rapturously, "To encounter such a character, if only for a moment . . ."

"Marianne!" said Elinor, aghast at her pa.s.sionate-minded sister's lack of sense.

Mr. Palmer shook his head gravely-dismissing with one gesture Marianne's romantic enthusiasm for pirates and Elinor's sensible fear of them. "There are worse things in the world than pirates," he muttered cryptically, before descending down the trap. "Far worse indeed."

The rest of the morning was easily whiled away, in lounging round the kitchen, examining the astonishing varieties of meat, from venison to vulture jerky that were kept aboard for shipside mess-and in visiting the below-deck, where Mr. Palmer was persuaded to show off the variety of mushrooms he cultivated in the dank of the ship's hold.

The morning was fine and dry, and Marianne had not calculated for any change of weather during their stay at The Cleveland The Cleveland. With great surprise therefore, did she find herself prevented by a settled rain from going out again after dinner. She had depended on a twilight walk to the mud dune, and perhaps all over the grounds, and an evening merely cold or damp would not have deterred her from it; but a heavy and settled rain even she she could not fancy dry or pleasant weather for walking. could not fancy dry or pleasant weather for walking.

Their party was small, and the hours pa.s.sed quietly away. Mrs. Palmer had her child, and Mrs. Jennings her carpet-work, and they talked of the friends they had left behind. Elinor, however little concerned in it, joined in their discourse; and Marianne, who had the knack of finding her way in every house to the library, soon procured herself a satisfyingly gory book of shipwrecks.

Nothing was wanting on Mrs. Palmer's side that could make them feel more welcome. Her kindness, recommended by so pretty a face, was engaging; her folly, though evident was not disgusting, because it was not conceited; and Elinor could have forgiven everything but her laugh.

Elinor had seen so little of Mr. Palmer, and in that little had seen so much variety in his address to her sister and herself, that she knew not what to expect to find him in his own family, aboard his own houseboat. She found him, however, perfectly the gentleman in his behaviour to all his visitors, and only occasionally rude to his wife and her mother. His only direct interaction with Elinor, however, came a few days after they had arrived, when he suddenly came upon her on the verandah, where she stood breathing in the marshy air, and asked with abruptness: "Are your relations still on Pestilent Isle?"

"Indeed; and awaiting our return, or so we understand."

"So you hope hope."

Of Edward, she now received intelligence from Colonel Brandon, who had been to Delaford to see him installed at the lake-side lighthouse. Treating her at once as the disinterested friend of Mr. Ferrars, and the kind of confidant of himself, Colonel Brandon talked to her a great deal of the lighthouse at Delaford, described its deficiencies, and told her what he meant to do himself towards removing them. His behaviour in this, his open pleasure in meeting her after an absence of only ten days, his readiness to converse with her, and his deference for her opinion, and the way his tentacles danced gaily as they spoke, might very well justify Mrs. Jennings's persuasion of his attachment. But such a notion had scarcely entered Elinor's head. She knew the true object of the colonel's affections.

On the fourth evening on The Cleveland The Cleveland, Marianne took yet another of her delightful twilight walks to the mud flat. She paused before a babbling brook where it ambled through the swamp, suddenly struck by how greatly it resembled the very stream where she had been a.s.saulted by the giant octopus, before being so fortuitously rescued by the dashing Willoughby. Lost in the reflections such a sight engendered, pleasant and unbearable by turns, Marianne sank down to perch upon a log-which promptly spewed forth from a crag in its side a buzzing, furious swarm of mosquitoes. This humming devilish cloud soon entirely overwhelmed the flailing Marianne, who helplessly, uselessly, threw herself to the swampy ground and batted about as the insects covered every inch of her like a blanket. Again and again they sunk their tiny mandibles into her flesh, producing dozens upon dozens of deep stinging wounds-Marianne crying out all the while-until six or seven of the devilish buzzing things swarmed into her mouth and down her throat; the pain of which, combined with a single bite received directly in her eye, drove her past the point of consciousness.

Marianne was discovered, covered in suppurating sores, by a worried Elinor some three-quarters of an hour later, and put promptly into her bed. She woke the next morning with the swelling from the bites greatly decreased, but, alas, that major discomfort had been replaced by another-a set of the most violent symptoms. Prescriptions poured in from all quarters, and as usual, were all declined. Though heavy and feverish, with a pain in her limbs, and a cough, and a sore throat, headache, sweats, and vomiting, a good night's rest was to cure her entirely; and it was with difficulty that Elinor prevailed upon her to try one or two of the simplest of the remedies.

CHAPTER 43

MARIANNE GOT UP the next morning at her usual time; to every inquiry replied that she was better, and tried to prove herself so, by engaging in her customary employments. But a day spent shivering on a hammock with a book in her hand, which she was unable to read, or in lying, weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak much in favour of her amendment. When at last she went early to bed, more and more indisposed, Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her sister's composure, who, though attending and nursing Marianne the whole day, trusted to the certainty and efficacy of sleep, and felt no real alarm. the next morning at her usual time; to every inquiry replied that she was better, and tried to prove herself so, by engaging in her customary employments. But a day spent shivering on a hammock with a book in her hand, which she was unable to read, or in lying, weary and languid, on a sofa, did not speak much in favour of her amendment. When at last she went early to bed, more and more indisposed, Colonel Brandon was only astonished at her sister's composure, who, though attending and nursing Marianne the whole day, trusted to the certainty and efficacy of sleep, and felt no real alarm.

A very restless and feverish night, however, disappointed the expectation of both. When Marianne, after persisting in rising, confessed herself unable to sit up, and returned into the cottage and went voluntarily to her bed, Elinor was very ready to send for the Palmers' apothecary, Mr. Harris.

He came on a swift boat from inland, examined his patient, and, once having heard of the mosquitoes' bites, swiftly determined that Marianne had malaria.

Such a diagnosis gave instant alarm to Mrs. Palmer on the account of her baby. Mrs. Jennings, who was born and bred along a mosquito-plagued coast, had been inclined from the first to think Marianne's complaint more serious than Elinor thought, now looked very grave on Mr. Harris's report, and confirming Charlotte's fears and caution, urged the necessity of her immediate removal with her infant. Her departure, therefore, was fixed on; and within an hour after Mr. Harris's arrival, she set off, with her little boy and his nurse, for the house of a near relation of Mr. Palmer's, who lived a few miles on the other side of Bath; whither her husband promised, at her earnest entreaty, to join her in a day or two; and whither she was almost equally urgent with her mother to accompany her. Mrs. Jennings, however, with a kindness of heart which made Elinor really love her, declared her resolution of not stepping foot off The Cleveland The Cleveland as long as Marianne remained ill, and of endeavouring, by her own attentive care, to supply to her the place of the mother she had taken her from. as long as Marianne remained ill, and of endeavouring, by her own attentive care, to supply to her the place of the mother she had taken her from.

Poor Marianne, languid and low from her malaria, violently disgorging the contents of her stomach at irregular intervals in a silver chamber pot that was again and again rinsed and returned to her bedside, could no longer hope that to-morrow would find her recovered. The idea of what to-morrow would have produced, but for this unlucky illness, made every ailment severe; for on that day they were to have begun their journey home, ferried thereto by Palmer's old companions aboard the Rusted Nail Rusted Nail, and to have taken their mother by surprise on the following forenoon. The little she said was all in lamentation of this inevitable delay; though Elinor tried to raise her spirits, and make her believe, as she then then really believed herself, that it would be a very short one. really believed herself, that it would be a very short one.

The next day produced little or no alteration in the state of the patient; she certainly was not better, and her body was covered from head to toe with deep, suppurating sores. Her right eye, which had been bitten directly by the largest of the insects, had swollen such that it was permanently shut, the eyelid layered with a crustulent glaze of pus.

Their party was now further reduced; for Mr. Palmer was preparing to follow his wife; and while he was preparing to go, Colonel Brandon himself, with a much greater exertion, began to talk of going likewise. Here, however, the kindness of Mrs. Jennings interposed most acceptably; for to send the colonel away while his love was in so much uneasiness on her sister's account, would be to deprive them both, she thought, of every comfort; and therefore, telling him at once that his stay at The Cleveland The Cleveland was necessary to herself, that she should want him to play at Karankrolla of an evening, while Miss Dashwood was above with her sister. She urged him so strongly to remain, that he, who was gratifying the first wish of his own heart by a compliance, could not long even affect to demur. was necessary to herself, that she should want him to play at Karankrolla of an evening, while Miss Dashwood was above with her sister. She urged him so strongly to remain, that he, who was gratifying the first wish of his own heart by a compliance, could not long even affect to demur.

Elinor realised too late the grave implication of Mr. Palmer's departure. It was he he who had saved the life of Dreadbeard, so many years past; it was who had saved the life of Dreadbeard, so many years past; it was he he, therefore, whose presence guaranteed security against an invasion by that infamous king of the pirates. With his departure, the unfortunate circ.u.mstance of Marianne's illness was compounded a hundredfold by the evaporation of that safety. Not wanting to worry the still gravely ill Marianne, nor impede the nurturing kindness of Mrs. Jennings, Elinor shared this distressing understanding to Colonel Brandon, whose ropy face tendrils grew rigid with concern. After Mrs. Jennings retired to her bedroom on the houseboat's second floor; and Marianne, in the next room and overcome by a consuming fever, lay in her wracked, hacking quasi-sleep, murmuring hallucinatory inanities, Brandon and Elinor began the grim business of putting the vessel (as the colonel put it) on a battle footing: They gathered long curtains of moss and Sagittaria Sagittaria leaves and hung them from the gables of the houseboat to obscure their position; they draped black fabric over the French windows; and they moved along the rails, adjusting the long-guns and carronades in their quoins, and making sure each artillery piece had adequate wadding and b.a.l.l.s at the ready. leaves and hung them from the gables of the houseboat to obscure their position; they draped black fabric over the French windows; and they moved along the rails, adjusting the long-guns and carronades in their quoins, and making sure each artillery piece had adequate wadding and b.a.l.l.s at the ready.

The next day, Marianne, even in her fleeting moments of alertness, was kept in ignorance of all these arrangements. She knew not that she had been the means of sending the owners of The Cleveland The Cleveland away, in about seven days from the time of their arrival, and what fresh peril their departure had engendered. It gave her no surprise that she saw nothing of Mrs. Palmer; and as it gave her likewise no concern, she never mentioned her name. away, in about seven days from the time of their arrival, and what fresh peril their departure had engendered. It gave her no surprise that she saw nothing of Mrs. Palmer; and as it gave her likewise no concern, she never mentioned her name.

Two days pa.s.sed from the time of Mr. Palmer's departure, and Marianne's situation continued with little variation. Mr. Harris, who attended her every day, still talked boldly of a speedy recovery, but the expectation of the others was by no means so cheerful. Mrs. Jennings, having observed that the girl's moments of consciousness were increasingly rare, and more fleeting when they came, arrived at the unfortunate conclusion that she had contracted not just malaria, but yellow fever as well-and that, in short, she would never recover. Colonel Brandon, who was chiefly of use in listening to Mrs. Jennings's forebodings, was not in a state of mind to resist their influence. He tried to reason himself out of fears, and even spent hours each morning catching sardines out of the shallows with his own face, so Marianne might have sustenance readily available when her appet.i.te returned; but the many hours of each day in which he was left entirely alone, were but too favourable for the admission of every melancholy idea, and he could not expel from his mind the persuasion that he should see Marianne no more.

All the next day, Elinor sat perched on the deck of The Cleveland The Cleveland, manning the carronade, her attention torn between thoughts of her poor suffering sister where she lay feverish within the cabin; and her ever-growing terror of the mad pirate captain she felt with grim certainty would shortly be arriving to murder the lot of them, and toss their bodies to the monsters of the sea.

The day ended even less auspiciously. For a time, Marianne seemed to recover, but in the evening she became ill again, growing more heavy, restless, and uncomfortable than before. Marianne's sleep lasted a considerable time and Elinor resolved to sit with her during the whole of it, while Colonel Brandon took the night watch at the carronades and Mrs. Jennings went early to bed.

As the night wore on, Marianne's sleep became more and more disturbed; and her sister, who watched, with unremitting attention her continual change of posture, and heard the frequent but inarticulate sounds of complaint which pa.s.sed her lips, was almost wishing to rouse her from so painful a slumber, when Marianne, suddenly started up and cried out, "Is Mama coming?"

"Not yet," cried the other, concealing her terror, and a.s.sisting Marianne to lie down again, "but she will be here, I hope, before it is long. It is a great way, you know, from hence to Barton Cottage."

"But she must not go 'round by Sub-Marine Station Beta!" cried Marianne, in the same hurried manner. "I shall never see her, if she goes by the Station."

Elinor perceived with alarm that she was not quite herself. There seemed little point in reminding her, at such a moment, that the Station had been swallowed into the sea. While calmly attempting to soothe her, Elinor felt her sister's pulse. It was lower and quicker than ever! She knew she must send instantly for Mr. Harris, and dispatch a messenger to Barton Cottage for her mother. To consult with Colonel Brandon on the best means of effecting the latter; as soon as Elinor had rung up Mrs. Jennings to take her place by her sister, she exited the cabin and found Brandon at his battle station. It was no time for hesitation. Her fears and her difficulties were immediately before Colonel Brandon. He listened to them in silent despondence, sternly stroking his appendages-but her difficulties were instantly obviated, for with a readiness that seemed to speak the occasion, and the service pre-arranged in his mind, he offered himself as the messenger who should fetch Mrs. Dashwood. It was a decision as terrible as it was necessary: Though Brandon's departure would leave Elinor and Mrs. Jennings alone to defend the ship against Dreadbeard, his going was the surest and quickest way to bring Mrs. Dashwood hence.

"I can navigate those waters faster than any boat could sail it," he said.

Though she knew what emotional exertion Brandon required to so embrace the fishy part of his nature, Elinor made no resistance that was not easily overcome. She thanked him with brief, though fervent grat.i.tude, and while he went to perform the elaborate stretching exercises necessary to prepare his body for such a lengthy swim, she wrote a few lines to her mother.

The comfort of such a friend at that moment as Colonel Brandon- or such a companion for her mother, how gratefully was it felt! A companion whose judgment would guide, whose attendance must relieve, whose friendship might soothe her! As far as the shock of such a summons could could be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his a.s.sistance, everything but his grotesque physical appearance, would lessen it. be lessened to her, his presence, his manners, his a.s.sistance, everything but his grotesque physical appearance, would lessen it.

He, meanwhile, whatever he might feel, acted with all the firmness of a collected mind, performed his stretches with the utmost dispatch, and calculated with exactness the time in which she might look for his return. Not a moment was lost in delay of any kind. After pressing her hand with a look of solemnity, and a few words spoken too low to reach her ear, Colonel Brandon leapt from the prow of the houseboat and began a st.u.r.dy, athletic crawl stroke to the south-southwest. Elinor went back into the cottage and up to her sister's room to wait for the arrival of the apothecary, and to watch by her the rest of the night. It was a night of almost equal suffering to both. Hour after hour pa.s.sed away in sleepless pain and delirium on Marianne's side, and in the most cruel anxiety on Elinor's. The ideas in Marianne's fever-wracked brain were still, at intervals, fixed incoherently on her mother, and whenever she mentioned her name, it gave a pang to the heart of poor Elinor, who, reproaching herself for having trifled with so many days of illness, and wretched for some immediate relief, fancied that all relief might soon be in vain, that everything had been delayed too long, and pictured to herself her suffering mother arriving too late to see this darling child, or to see her rational.

She was on the point of sending again for Mr. Harris, or if he he could not come, for some other advice, when the former arrived. His opinion, however, made some little amends for his delay, for though acknowledging a very unexpected and unpleasant alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger to be material. He placed leeches all along Marianne's forearms, and laid the largest of the creatures directly on her inflamed eye- then, leaving the salutary bloodsuckers to do their work, he promised to call again in the course of three or four hours, and left both the patient and her anxious attendant more composed than he had found them. could not come, for some other advice, when the former arrived. His opinion, however, made some little amends for his delay, for though acknowledging a very unexpected and unpleasant alteration in his patient, he would not allow the danger to be material. He placed leeches all along Marianne's forearms, and laid the largest of the creatures directly on her inflamed eye- then, leaving the salutary bloodsuckers to do their work, he promised to call again in the course of three or four hours, and left both the patient and her anxious attendant more composed than he had found them.

With strong concern, and with many reproaches for not being called to their aid, did Mrs. Jennings hear in the morning of what had pa.s.sed. Her heart truly grieved. Marianne lay with her eyes closed, breathing shallowly, covered in the blood-sucking leeches that now represented her only hope of a return to health. The rapid decay, the early death of a girl so young, so lovely as Marianne, must have struck a less interested person with concern. On Mrs. Jennings's compa.s.sion she had other claims. She had been for three months her companion, was still under her care, and she was known to have been greatly injured, and long unhappy. The distress of her sister too, particularly a favourite, was before her-and as for their mother, when Mrs. Jennings considered that Marianne might probably be to her her what Charlotte was to herself, her sympathy in what Charlotte was to herself, her sympathy in her her sufferings was very sincere. sufferings was very sincere.

Mr. Harris was punctual in his second visit, but he came to be disappointed in his hopes of what the last would produce. Even as he plucked free the leeches, fat from gorging on Marianne's diseased blood, it was clear that the remedy had failed. The fever was unabated, and Marianne only more quiet-not more herself-remained in a heavy stupor. Elinor, catching all his fears in a moment, proposed to call in further advice. But he judged it unnecessary: he had still another antipyretic to try, of whose success he was as confident as the last, and his visit concluded with encouraging a.s.surances which reached the ear, but could not enter the heart of Miss Dashwood. Slowly, with the physician's customary deliberateness, he encased Marianne's body, from head to toe, in layer upon layer of slimy seaweed, leaving only a small slit at mouth-level for his patient to breathe.

"The salted leaves of kelp will draw the illness and fever from her," explained Mr. Harris. "And if she dies, her skin shall be smooth in death."

Elinor accepted the explanation, and was calm, except when she thought of her mother; but she was almost hopeless; and in this state she continued till noon, scarcely stirring from her sister's bed, her thoughts wandering from one image of grief, one suffering friend, to another. And what of Dreadbeard? Had it somehow escaped the attention of that infamous brigand that Mr. Palmer had departed? Could they be so fortunate, that he had decided to leave undisturbed this floating boat where it sat moored-along with the defenseless girls, one of them ill unto death, that sat upon it like ripe fruit, waiting to be plucked? Surely not-surely the monster was biding his time, toying with her, waiting to strike. Such considerations gave fresh misery to her reflections.

About noon, however, she began to hope she could perceive a slight amendment in her sister's pulse. She lifted up a tiny corner of the seaweed wrap from Marianne's face and looked at her left, unswollen eye. Seeing in it signs of life and intelligence for the first time in days, Elinor waited, watched, and examined Marianne again and again. Soon she hazarded to inspect the inflamed eye and found signs of life in it as well. Even Mrs. Jennings was forced to acknowledge a temporary revival, but she tried to keep her young friend from indulging a thought of its continuance- and Elinor told herself likewise not to hope. But it was too late. Hope had already entered, had caught the lip of her soul like a barbed hook; and feeling all its anxious flutter, she bent over her sister to watch-she hardly knew for what. Half an hour pa.s.sed away, and the favourable symptom yet blessed her. Others even arose to confirm it. Her breath, her skin, her lips, all flattered Elinor with signs of amendment; and Marianne fixed her eyes on her with a rational, though languid, gaze. Anxiety and hope now oppressed her in equal degrees, and left her no moment of tranquility till the arrival of Mr. Harris at four o'clock-promptly he cut away the tight wrapping of dried sarga.s.sum; and his a.s.surances, his felicitations on a recovery in her sister even surpa.s.sing his expectation, gave her confidence, comfort, and tears of joy.

Marianne was in every respect materially better, and Mr. Harris declared her entirely out of danger. He indulged in one more application of leeches, in order to be certain, which final treatment Marianne bore bravely. Even Mrs. Jennings allowed herself to trust in his judgment, and admitted, with unfeigned joy, the probability of an entire recovery.

Elinor continued by the side of her sister, with little intermission the whole afternoon, calming every fear, satisfying every inquiry of her enfeebled spirits, supplying every succour, and watching almost every look and every breath. The possibility of a relapse would in some moments occur to remind her of what anxiety was-but she saw, on her frequent and minute examination, that every symptom of recovery continued, and even her tumescent eye was beginning to return to its accustomed shape, and the layer of crust that had overlaid it had fallen away. Marianne, at six o'clock, sunk into a quiet, steady, and to all appearance comfortable, sleep, and Elinor silenced every doubt.

The time was now drawing on, when Colonel Brandon might be expected back; Elinor felt a stinging consciousness that she only had to keep them safe, only had to keep Marianne alive, until Brandon could return with their mother and the group of them could proceed to Barton Cottage, far from The Cleveland The Cleveland, far from fever, and far from Dreadbeard. As she sat with Marianne in the second-floor bedroom of the cabin, she imagined that she heard with every noise from without, every splash of tide against rock, the terrible sound of the pirate's silver boot heels on the foredeck.

The time could not pa.s.s quickly enough. By ten o'clock, Elinor trusted, or at least not much later, her mother would be relieved from the dreadful suspense in which she must now be travelling towards them. Oh! How slow was the progress of time which yet kept them in ignorance, and kept Elinor and Marianne within the prospect of danger they faced here!

At seven o'clock, leaving Marianne still sweetly asleep, Elinor joined Mrs. Jennings in the drawing-room to tea. Of breakfast she had been kept by her fears, and of lunch by their sudden reverse, from eating much; and the present refreshment, therefore, with such feelings of content as she brought to it, was particularly welcome. Together she and Mrs. Jennings ate an entire tuna, head to fin, including all interior organs; Mrs. Jennings saved the roe for Elinor to consume on her own, which she did, managing to enjoy the salty treat despite the welter of anxiety in which she waited.

The night was cold and stormy. The wind roared round the houseboat, tilting it violently back and forth in its moorings, and the rain beat against the windows. Marianne slept through every blast. The clock struck eight. Had it been ten, Elinor would have been convinced that at that moment she heard Brandon's strong crawl stroke cutting through the tide, swimming unerringly back to the houseboat; and so strong was the persuasion that she did did, in spite of the almost almost impossibility of their being already come, that she raced out to the verandah and peered through the spygla.s.s, to be satisfied of the truth. She instantly saw that her ears had not deceived her. Something was approaching, but it was not Brandon cutting through the waves with her mother upon his back; the object that approached from the western horizon was long, much longer than a swimming man, and it cut through the sea much faster than any man, even one with powerful face-flippers to propel him. As she stared through the spygla.s.s, she heard the sound of oars beating against the waves. impossibility of their being already come, that she raced out to the verandah and peered through the spygla.s.s, to be satisfied of the truth. She instantly saw that her ears had not deceived her. Something was approaching, but it was not Brandon cutting through the waves with her mother upon his back; the object that approached from the western horizon was long, much longer than a swimming man, and it cut through the sea much faster than any man, even one with powerful face-flippers to propel him. As she stared through the spygla.s.s, she heard the sound of oars beating against the waves.

Elinor's joy died in her breast. This was not Brandon and her mother-this was a ship. Dreadbeard was come.

Elinor swiveled the carronade and tried to fix aim on the fast-approaching enemy vessel; which boat, however, she soon noted seemed smaller than she would expect a three-masted pirate schooner. Judging that she would have better luck picking Dreadbeard and his men off at close range, once they had boarded-rather than trying to sink such a smallish craft with her untutored hand at a long gun-Elinor climbed quickly, hand over hand, down the trap to the hold, returning just as swiftly topside with Palmer's hunting rifle. Adopting a position in the shadow of the ma.s.sive captain's wheel, she aimed the rifle at the gangplank of the houseboat, prepared to open fire as soon as the pirate crew climbed aboard.

Elinor squeezed her eyes shut and uttered a brief prayer as she crouched in the shadow of the wheel. It was not her choice to aim a rifle, nor to die aboard The Cleveland The Cleveland on this dark night-but she on this dark night-but she would would defend her recovered sister. The sound of a boot heel at the end of the gangplank a.s.sured Elinor that the first of her unwelcome guests had made free to come aboard the boat. Her fingers grew sweaty around the trigger of the rifle. The heavy booted footfalls grew nearer. defend her recovered sister. The sound of a boot heel at the end of the gangplank a.s.sured Elinor that the first of her unwelcome guests had made free to come aboard the boat. Her fingers grew sweaty around the trigger of the rifle. The heavy booted footfalls grew nearer.

She raised her gun, looked through the sight-and saw only Willoughby.

CHAPTER 44

ELINOR, STARTING BACK with a look of horror at the sight of him, did not lower her rifle. For one long second, her heart pounding and her head muddled, she considered the horrid possibility that Willoughby with a look of horror at the sight of him, did not lower her rifle. For one long second, her heart pounding and her head muddled, she considered the horrid possibility that Willoughby was was Dreadbeard. Her hand remained on the trigger, and she even raised the barrel slightly-its action was suspended by his hastily advancing, and saying, in a voice rather of command than supplication, Dreadbeard. Her hand remained on the trigger, and she even raised the barrel slightly-its action was suspended by his hastily advancing, and saying, in a voice rather of command than supplication, "Miss Dashwood, don't shoot. For half an hour-for ten minutes- I entreat you to listen to me." He raised his hands in surrender, as did Monsieur Pierre, the orangutan, whom Elinor now saw at Willoughby's side, his hands held high over his head in a simian parody of Willoughby's supplicating stance.

"No, sir," she replied with firmness, "I shall not not listen. Your business cannot be with listen. Your business cannot be with me me. Mr. Palmer is not aboard the boat."

"Were Mr. Palmer and all his relations at the devil, it would not have turned me from this gangplank. My business is with you, and only you."

"With me! Well, sir, be quick-and if you can, less violent."

"You, too," was his rejoinder, and, gathering his meaning, she slowly lowered the rifle, although she kept it grasped in her hands. "Sit down," he said, "and I will be both."

She hesitated; she knew not what to do. The possibility of Colonel Brandon's arriving and finding her there at the captain's wheel, in conversation with Willoughby, came across her. But she had promised to hear him, and her curiosity no less than her honour was engaged. After a moment's recollection, therefore, concluding that prudence required dispatch, and that her acquiescence would best promote it, she led Willoughby and his queer companion inside the cottage to the parlour, where they walked silently towards the table and sat down. He took the opposite chair, Monsieur Pierre squatted in the centre of the parlour rug, and for half a minute not a word was said by any of them.

"Pray be quick, sir," said Elinor, impatiently. "I have no time to spare. Pirates stalk this ship, I have great reason to fear, and I should return to my station at the captain's wheel."

He was sitting in an att.i.tude of deep meditation, and seemed not to hear her.

"Your sister," said he, "is out of danger. The malaria is pa.s.sed; I heard it from the apothecary's servant. G.o.d be praised! But is it true? Is it really true?"

Elinor would not speak. He repeated the inquiry with yet greater eagerness.

"For G.o.d's sake, tell me: Is she out of danger, or is she not?"

"We hope she is."

He rose up, and walked across the room.

"Had I known as much half an hour ago. But since I am am here"- speaking with a forced vivacity as he returned to his seat-"what does it signify? For once, Miss Dashwood-it will be the last time, perhaps-let us be cheerful together. Tell me honestly: Do you think me most a knave or a fool?" here"- speaking with a forced vivacity as he returned to his seat-"what does it signify? For once, Miss Dashwood-it will be the last time, perhaps-let us be cheerful together. Tell me honestly: Do you think me most a knave or a fool?"

Elinor looked at him with greater astonishment than ever. She began to think that he must be in liquor; the strangeness of such a visit, and of such manners, and treasure hunters having a notorious fondness for spirits. With this impression she immediately rose, saying, "Mr. Willoughby, I advise you at present to return to Combe-I am not at leisure to remain with you longer. Every moment we remain talking is a moment our enemies may take us unawares, which I cannot allow. Whatever your business may be with me, it will be better recollected and explained to-morrow."

"I understand you," he replied, with an expressive smile, and a voice perfectly calm. "And yes, I am very drunk."

But the steadiness of his manner, and the intelligence of his eye as he spoke, convinced Elinor that whatever other unpardonable folly might bring him to The Cleveland The Cleveland, he was not brought there by intoxication. She said, after a moment's recollection, "Mr. Willoughby, you ought ought to feel, and I certainly to feel, and I certainly do do-that after what has pa.s.sed-your coming here in this manner, and forcing yourself upon my notice, requires a very particular excuse. By G.o.d, I would almost rather you were were a pirate! What do you mean by it?" a pirate! What do you mean by it?"

"I mean," said he, with serious energy, "if I can, to make you hate me one degree less than you do now now. I mean to offer some kind of explanation, some kind of apology, for the past. To open my whole heart to you, and by convincing you, that though I have been always a blockhead, I have not been always a scallywag, to obtain something like forgiveness from Ma-from your sister."

"Is this the real reason of your coming?"

"Upon my soul it is," was his answer, with a warmth which brought all the former Willoughby to her remembrance, and in spite of herself made her think him sincere. In the corner, Monsieur Pierre entered into a spirited liaison with an armchair.

"If that is all, you may be satisfied already-for Marianne has long long forgiven you." forgiven you."

"Has she?" he cried, in the same eager tone. "Then she has forgiven me before she ought to have done it. But she shall forgive me again, and on more reasonable grounds. Now Now will you listen to me?" will you listen to me?"

Elinor bowed her a.s.sent. As Willoughby began to speak, she peeked briefly out the black-curtained window of the parlour, and, seeing no incoming vessel, allowed herself the ease to attend his story.

"I do not know," said he, "how you you may have accounted for my behaviour to your sister, or what diabolical motive you may have imputed to me. Perhaps you will hardly think the better of me. It is worth the trial however, and you shall hear everything. When I first became intimate in your family, I had no other intention than to pa.s.s my time pleasantly while I was obliged to remain on the Devonshire coast. Your sister's lovely person and interesting manners could not but please me; and her behaviour to me almost from the first, was astonishing. At first I must confess, only my vanity was elevated by it. Careless of her happiness, thinking only of my own amus.e.m.e.nt, giving way to feelings which I had always been too much in the habit of indulging, I endeavoured to make myself pleasing to her, without any design of returning her affection." may have accounted for my behaviour to your sister, or what diabolical motive you may have imputed to me. Perhaps you will hardly think the better of me. It is worth the trial however, and you shall hear everything. When I first became intimate in your family, I had no other intention than to pa.s.s my time pleasantly while I was obliged to remain on the Devonshire coast. Your sister's lovely person and interesting manners could not but please me; and her behaviour to me almost from the first, was astonishing. At first I must confess, only my vanity was elevated by it. Careless of her happiness, thinking only of my own amus.e.m.e.nt, giving way to feelings which I had always been too much in the habit of indulging, I endeavoured to make myself pleasing to her, without any design of returning her affection."

Miss Dashwood, turning her eyes on him with the most angry contempt, stopped him by saying, "It is hardly worthwhile, Mr. Willoughby, for you to relate, or for me to listen any longer. Such a beginning as this cannot be followed by anything. Do not let me be pained by hearing anything more on the subject."

"I insist on you hearing the whole of it," he replied. "My fortune was never large, and I had always been expensive, always in the habit of a.s.sociating with people of better income than myself. Every year since my coming of age had added to my debts. I was always searching for treasure and never finding it; always imagining it would be found the following year, always spending money freely with the expectation that it would be so. It had been for some time my intention to re-establish my circ.u.mstances by marrying a woman of fortune. To attach myself to your sister, therefore, was not a thing to be thought of-and with a meanness, selfishness, cruelty-which no indignant, no contemptuous look, even of yours, Miss Dashwood, can ever reprobate too much-I was acting in this manner, trying to engage her regard, without a thought of returning it. But one thing may be said for me: Even in that horrid state of selfish vanity, I did not know the extent of the injury I meditated, because I did not then then know what it was to love. But have I ever known it? Well may it be doubted; for, had I really loved, could I have sacrificed my feelings to vanity, to avarice? Or, what is more, could I have sacrificed hers?" know what it was to love. But have I ever known it? Well may it be doubted; for, had I really loved, could I have sacrificed my feelings to vanity, to avarice? Or, what is more, could I have sacrificed hers?"

He paused for a moment in his narrative; Monsieur Pierre laid his head in his master's lap and Willoughby indulgently scratched him.

"But I have done it. To avoid a comparative poverty, which her affection and her society would have deprived of all its horrors, I have, by raising myself to affluence, lost everything that could make it a blessing."

"Then you did," said Elinor, a little softened, "believe yourself at one time attached to her?"

"As surely as a piranha, once it has gripped its teeth into an explorer's plump leg, will hardly let go until sated or killed, nor did I think my heart would ever be released! To have resisted her attractions, to have withstood such tenderness! Is there a man on earth who could have done it? The happiest hours of my life were what I spent with her when I felt my intentions were strictly honourable, and my feelings blameless. Even then, however, when fully determined on paying my addresses to her, I allowed myself most improperly to put off, from day to day, the moment of doing it, from an unwillingness to enter into an engagement while my circ.u.mstances were so greatly embarra.s.sed. I will not reason here-nor will I stop for you you to expatiate on the absurdity, and the worse than absurdity, of scrupling to engage my faith where my honour was already bound. At last, however, my resolution was taken, and I had determined, as soon as I could engage her alone, to justify the attentions I had so invariably paid her, and openly a.s.sure her of an affection which I had already taken such pains to display. But in the interim of the very few hours that were to pa.s.s, before I could have an opportunity of speaking with her in private-a circ.u.mstance occurred-an unlucky circ.u.mstance, to ruin all my resolution, and with it all my comfort. A discovery took place." Here he hesitated and looked down, absently rubbing Pierre's furry stomach. "Mrs. Smith had somehow or other been informed, I imagine by some distant relation, whose interest it was to deprive me of her favour, of an affair, a connection-but I need not explain myself further," he added, looking at her with an heightened colour and an enquiring eye. "You have probably heard the whole story long ago. A seller of cakes-an octopus-a girl left buried in the sand-" to expatiate on the absurdity, and the worse than absurdity, of scrupling to engage my faith where my honour was already bound. At last, however, my resolution was taken, and I had determined, as soon as I could engage her alone, to justify the attentions I had so invariably paid her, and openly a.s.sure her of an affection which I had already taken such pains to display. But in the interim of the very few hours that were to pa.s.s, before I could have an opportunity of speaking with her in private-a circ.u.mstance occurred-an unlucky circ.u.mstance, to ruin all my resolution, and with it all my comfort. A discovery took place." Here he hesitated and looked down, absently rubbing Pierre's furry stomach. "Mrs. Smith had somehow or other been informed, I imagine by some distant relation, whose interest it was to deprive me of her favour, of an affair, a connection-but I need not explain myself further," he added, looking at her with an heightened colour and an enquiring eye. "You have probably heard the whole story long ago. A seller of cakes-an octopus-a girl left buried in the sand-"