The Lady Jane glided up the bay, taking in sail as she went; and as square after square of creamy white canvas was gathered up into wrinkled festoons, the men began to crowd out on to the yards, and the hoarsely-carolled strains of "Old Horse" and "Paddy Doyle" mingled with the music of running rigging. As the brig opened out the whitewashed fort from behind the trees, she slewed up into the wind; the report of the little brass gun on the poop rang out sharply, and the chain thundered out through the hawse-pipe.
No sooner was the anchor fairly down than the Captain commenced to spy inquisitively at the shore through his telescope, which he steadied against a shroud; nor were his observations long without result, for after about ten minutes' spying he suddenly beckoned to me.
"Pereira's boat has put off," said he; "I know her by her white paint."
"Is anyone coming with her?" I asked nervously.
"I can't see yet—Yes I can, by Jove!—Yes, the old man's on board; I can make out his black coat and topper."
"No one else?"
"No, I can't see anybody else. No, there's only one chair in the boat, and the old man's sitting in it."
I drew a breath of relief.
I should have been sorry for my first meeting with Isabel to take place in public, for my position with regard to her was one of some delicacy and difficulty. That she loved me I had little doubt; but yet, since I had spoken no word to her, I could not take her love for granted, especially after so long an absence, and I looked to our first meeting to put an end to my suspense.
Bithery handed me the telescope, which I levelled at the approaching surf-boat. Already the quaint figure of my old friend was clearly distinguishable in his queer habiliments, and I could see him scrutinizing the brig with the aid of a binocular. As the boat came nearer, I leaped on to the rail and stood holding on by a backstay and waving my cap—or rather Jobling's. He recognised me almost at once, for I saw him stand up and wave his hat in response, sitting down again with some suddenness as the boat gave a lurch.
As the surf-boat swept alongside he made a snatch at the ladder, and was on deck in a twinkling, fairly falling into my arms as he came over the rail.
"Now God be praised that I have been spared to see this day!" he exclaimed, in a voice that shook with agitation, "this blessed day that I had ceased to hope for."
He stood, holding both my hands, while the tears chased one another down his sunken cheeks, though his face beamed with delight.
As for me, I was too much affected by the old man's emotion and my own to be able to speak, until the skipper created a welcome diversion by loudly stigmatising the by-standing deck hands as "a pack of grinning apes," and hustling them away forward.
"How is Isabel?" I asked, when I had recovered my composure a little.
"She is well, my dear boy, very well, thank God. Ah! and that reminds me; she must share our happiness at once. Captain, would you kindly fire the gun twice? It was to be the signal. We saw the brig come in all gay with flags, and I promised, if she brought good news, we would fire the gun once, and if our dear friend was on board, we would fire it twice. She is on the beach with the telescope now."
Twice the little gun sang out its joyful note, and then Captain Bithery executed a diplomatic move, the brilliancy of which I have never ceased to admire.
"Look here, Englefield," said he, "there is no need for you to stay here while I am pitching Pereira the yarn and letting him finger the gold. Yes, my friend, gold; good, yellow gold by the hundredweight; you cut ashore, and send the boat back for us, and tell Miss Pereira that we are all coming to breakfast."
I glanced at my old friend to see how he took the proposal, and as he beamed approvingly, I lost no time, but dropped into the boat forthwith.
"Shove off," I said to the boatswain, as I took my seat in the Madeira chair that was lashed to the thwart; and as the big boat sheered off, I caught a glimpse of Jobling's face looking over the bulwark, wistfully regarding his best drill suit as it moved shoreward.
The canoe-men glanced at me curiously as we went along, having apparently gleaned some particulars from the natives on board, and presently they broke out into the classical Gold Coast boat song, "White man cummygain"—which was so apt to the circumstances, that I would have rewarded them with a substantial "dash," but Jobling's pockets were empty.
With a glance round, to make sure that Isabel was not on the beach, I ran across the sandy flat, and down the narrow streets, until I came to the compound gate. Here I paused a moment to get my breath, then I pushed open the creaking gate and entered.
She was standing on the verandah waiting for me, looking in her soft white dress, with its single spot of scarlet blossom, more daintily lovely even than the visions my memory had conjured up. I hurried across the compound, and ran up the stairs, at the head of which she met me with outstretched hands and a radiant smile of welcome.
In a moment all my fine speeches were forgotten; all my resolutions to consider the delicacy of our position vanished before the ingenuous love that sparkled in her eyes; and without a word I took her in my arms and kissed her.
She did not resent my bluntness, but only murmured some broken words of joy and relief at seeing me alive and well, till growing more conscious, she made as if she would gently disengage herself, and this with a very pretty confusion.
But possession is nine points of the law, and I would not give up my advantage.
"Isabel," I whispered, "this is what I have thought of and longed for in all the long months of my wanderings—this, and to hear you say that you love me, that there is to be no more parting for us until the end."
She looked up into my face with grave frankness.
"You may hear me say it now," said she, "as you might have heard me months ago. When you went away my heart and my world went with you."
"If I had, I should never have gone," I said.
"Then would there have been saved a world of sorrow and heart-sickness in this house," she replied; and with a sudden burst of emotion she exclaimed:
"Oh! my dear! how long the days have been! How dark and full of sickening dread, and hope dying into despair!"
Her eyes filled at the recollection, and laying her head on my shoulder, she wept silently.
I was touched with remorse at the thought of her sufferings, but yet my heart was singing with joy.
"Come, my dearest," I said, "this is no time for weeping or thoughts of sorrow and sadness. Let us dry our eyes and rejoice; 'for, lo! the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, and the time of the singing of birds is come.'"
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