But to-night, as they sat together, she would not allow even this sad prospect8 to distract her. To-night she was resolved to be gay and bright, and to make her husband's return to what she called "home" a happy and cheerful one.
"For," she said to him, "who knows but that, after all, you may not have to go to the fleet, that you may not have to fight the French----"
"Hush9, Ariadne, hush," he said. "No more of this, I beseech10 you, if you are a true wife of mine. What! I a sailor, with war going on, and not take part in it. Great heavens! what kind of a sailor then should I be, and what likelihood of ever obtaining my flag? Nay11, Ariadne, my sweet, never speak like that."
"Forgive me, oh! forgive me, Geoff. But I love you so, so fond and true. And it breaks my heart to part from you even for an hour. Yet, alas12! I know that it must be, will be, until you are a great man. Oh! I wish you were an Admiral. Then you would have all you desire."
"Then," he replied, "I should be commanding fleets instead of single ships. Ariadne, you must be brave."
He was very gentle to her as he spoke13; gentle always, not only because he loved her, but because he knew what a sad lot was that of a sailor's wife in those days. The whole world was one more plunged14 in war, although but two great Powers, England and France, were the principal combatants; and between those two it was war to the knife. One side or other had to triumph, and the triumph would be final for many years to come. We were determined15 to possess ourselves of Canada, the American fisheries, the sugar trade of Guadeloupe, and the whole of the African trade at last if it could be done, and, already, we were fast possessing ourselves of India; while, to draw off our attention from those far-off places, Conflans was meditating16 an invasion of England herself. The year, which was afterwards to be termed and known as the "Great '59," was indeed likely to prove a stormy one. And, amidst this storm, none would play a greater part than the Navy of England. Hawke, Dennis, Boscawen, Speke, and Keppel--the most illustrious names of the time--were all upon the seas; men were being sought for everywhere and obtained by every means possible, through crimps and impressment, by large bounty17 and offers of increased pay. Even now, Geoffrey Barry had returned with the Mignonne empty of all the men he had taken away with him five days before, and an Admiralty tender had brought him instructions to procure18 more and more. And what he was doing was being done by scores of naval19 captains in other parts of England.
He recognised, indeed, that the lot of the sailor's wife was a hard one in those days--a mournful, heart-breaking one. For loving women might be parted from their husbands for months and years, even supposing that the latter lived through the storm and stress of their careers; while even this was, after all, the brightest side of both the sailor's and the sailor's wife's existence. The reverse side was a violent death at any moment; or, which was perhaps almost as bad, captivity20 of considerable duration in a French prison, and with no knowledge of that captivity coming to those at home who were waiting for the loved one's return.
Even now, as Geoffrey sat in his own cabin facing the wife whom he worshipped so fondly and truly, he knew that ere long he would have to leave her side for months--to return, it might be, a successful conqueror21; but, as was equally likely, a crippled, wounded man. Or, which also was equally probable, never to return at all.
"I have to find a hundred more men somewhere," he said to her, "to take away from here next week. And how to do it I do not know. I wonder if that man Granger, or Lewis, as he now calls himself, can be of any further assistance."
He had told Ariadne, before he went on the short cruise from which he had this morning returned, of his discovery of Granger, the man who, she would remember, had been Bufton's best man at the marriage into which he had been entrapped22 by Anne Pottle; and he had also told her of how this man had once been an officer in his own service, from which he had been court-martialled and removed for scandalous behaviour. And he had stated that the man had again asserted his innocence23, as he had asserted it on the day of his trial, and that, at last, he was inclined to believe in his assertion.
"For," he said, "there was something in his manner, something in the ring of his voice, that had the appearance of truth. My God! if he was innocent he has been cruelly dealt with."
But, now, the very mention of Bufton's name caused Ariadne considerable agitation--agitation of so extreme a nature as to remove from her mind any feeling of interest or compassion24 which she might otherwise have felt in Granger's fate.
"Oh! Geoffrey," she exclaimed. "That man! That man! Your mention of him recalls to my mind what I meant to tell you. I saw him here, in this neighbourhood, but the other day. The day on which you sailed. What can he--that beau--that fop--be doing here?"
"You saw him here! In this locality!" her husband exclaimed in astonishment25. Yet only in astonishment for the first moment, since he added instantly--
"Yet perhaps it is not so strange either. Those two, Lewis and he, were fast friends."
"Friends! How could they be friends, Geoffrey? Have you not said that this man, Lewis, or Granger, accused him of being the absolute scoundrel in that affair for which he was ruined and disgraced? And, also, Anne says that it was Granger who assisted her in the self-sacrificing vengeance26 which she exacted from him. How can they be friends?"
For a moment Geoffrey sat meditating deeply, then he replied--
"In truth, it does seem impossible they should be so. Unless--unless this man Granger also considers that he too was avenged27 by Anne's act--or--or--not being satisfied with that, still seeks for more."
"What further vengeance can he take on him?"
"Heaven alone knows. Yet one thing I can imagine, can guess from Granger's manner. He is a strong, resolute28 man, as is easy to see. If, as I do believe is the case, that other ruined him, he would never forgive. He helped to lead him towards Anne's vengeance; he would not falter29 in exacting30 his own."
"Yet what could he do against Bufton here? In such a place as this?"
"I cannot guess. Indeed, all I can hazard is but guess-work. Still, I cannot understand that fellow being here."
"Suppose," said Ariadne, "that he himself, this man Bufton, were here on a mission of revenge. Against----"
"Against whom, child?"
"Against Anne. Doubtless he has never forgiven her for what he must regard as the ruin of his existence. Suppose that! And, perhaps, he hates you for obtaining the wife he thought he was himself going to possess."
But at this latter Geoffrey laughed loud and long. Was he not, he asked his wife, the most powerful man in the neighbourhood at the present moment? Did not the Mignonne lie armed in the river, and was she not manned by a stalwart crew?
"As well," he said, "might the rogue31 meditate32 harm against the old Tower of London lying farther up the stream. While as for Anne," he continued; "well! Anne is aboard my ship, and, when ashore33, is able to take her own part, especially as she never goes on land at night. And, dear heart," he concluded, "this is not Naples nor any part of Italy, where people can be hired for a handful of silver pieces to take the lives of others."
Yet, all the same, his girl-wife was not convinced, and although she would not say so, she dreaded34 the time when she and Anne should be left behind, and Geoffrey gone to join the fleet. Meanwhile, not a mile away from where the frigate lay, namely, at Granger's house, a different conversation was taking place between that person and Algernon Bufton, who (true to his word and his deep desire for revenge, which he had been brooding over ever since he had had the idea instilled35 into his mind) had now returned to the neighbourhood of Blackwall. And here he meant to remain, or, at least, in the locality, though farther down the river, until midnight next day (Sunday). By which time he hoped to see the topsails of the Nederland fill, and the schooner36 depart with, on board of her, Anne Pottle, his wife, and Lady Barry, her mistress, bound for the American plantations37.
"All is arranged, all settled now," said Granger. "I protest," and he laughed a little as he spoke, "that you in your most brilliant days--and you were good at schemes in those days--never could have arranged anything more cleverly."
"Tell me the scheme," Bufton almost growled38 now, wishing at the same time that his old dupe would not for ever be harping39 upon his whilom aptitude40 for tricking other people. "Tell it to me," he said. "Though," he continued, "I must aver41 that, if I was once good at schemes, I found an apt pupil in you. You have profited by my instructions."
"The scheme is this," Granger said. "The letter will be delivered to Lady Barry by a sure hand when she comes out of church to-morrow. And you may be very confident she will lose no time. Be sure that she, with her companion--your beloved wife!--will hasten towards the point named, where the creek42 runs into the river. And the boat will be there to take them off, no matter how they resist."
"One thing alone I fear," said Bufton. "Supposing that she, the mistress, proclaims her rank and position; declares that she is known to be his wife--is Lady Barry. Will the master not be afraid?"
"Never. Not he! His sails will be bent43, he will be ready to drop down the river at once. For," he added, "I have taken good care to warn him that, whatever protest may be made by the victim or victims--no heed44 shall be paid to it. No heed paid to any statement as to position or rank. The master is warned that they will be lies."
"Good," chuckled45 Bufton. "Good. All lies. No heed will be paid to them."
"None at all," Granger said, with emphasis. "They will be absolutely useless. Likewise it is a common thing for persons brought on board to make such protestations. Women often enough declare themselves to be people of position, ladies of rank, in the hopes of being released; and men call themselves gentlemen, noblemen. But never are such things of avail."
"Good. Good," cried Bufton again, snapping his fingers in ecstasy46. "Oh! good. So that there is no chance! No hope!"
"None. Once on board that schooner there is no hope until America is reached. Instead, such despair that----"
"That people sometimes throw themselves overboard," Bufton interrupted, rubbing his chin, and with a baleful look in his eyes.
"Ay--'tis so. But," and now Granger's eyes seemed to pierce those of the other, "the master expects those fifty guineas we spoke of."
"He shall have them," said Bufton. "Oh! he shall. Alas! poor Anne. I fear she will be driven to the despair you spoke of. Later, I shall assume mourning for her--when I have heard the news. 'Twill be but decorous perhaps."
"I know she will be so driven. Now, listen to what you have to do. It would be best that you keep here until to-morrow afternoon. Then, when dusk is coming, we will proceed towards the creek (pray Heaven the Mignonne returns not first!), having taken care to have the letter delivered, and there we will await their coming. Once they arrive at the spot, 'tis done in a moment."
"You are a marvellous man!" cried Bufton. "Oh! a marvellous one. We shall succeed. We shall. I know we shall."
"We cannot fail. Now let us to bed. Tomorrow we have much to do."
Bufton would not, however, go to bed at once, declaring that on this night they must drink success to their great scheme; to his revenge and freedom, as he termed it. But at last Granger induced him to do so, and led him to a room at the back of the house, from the windows of which a fair view down the river could be obtained. He had also another spare room that looked up the river, and from which all the shipping47 lying in it was to be observed; but to put Bufton there would not have done. For amongst other masts and yards might have been seen towering the tall top-gallant yards of the Mignonne, with, flying above them, her streaming pennon. That would not, indeed, have done, since, thus, the deluded48 man might have understood that Sir Geoffrey Barry was back, and that, consequently, the letter he supposed was about to be sent to Ariadne on the morrow would be useless.
"Sleep well," said Granger, "sleep well; and wake up brisk and hearty49 in good time. And when you gaze out on to the Marshes50 in the morning, pray Heaven that you do not see the Mignonne coming up stream." With which benediction51, and turning his face away from the candle's gleam so that Bufton should not observe it, he quitted the room.
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1
detailed
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adj.详细的,详尽的,极注意细节的,完全的 | |
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solitary
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adj.孤独的,独立的,荒凉的;n.隐士 | |
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lodgings
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n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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frigate
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n.护航舰,大型驱逐舰 | |
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manor
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n.庄园,领地 | |
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6
forth
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adv.向前;向外,往外 | |
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7
perilous
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adj.危险的,冒险的 | |
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prospect
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n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
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9
hush
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int.嘘,别出声;n.沉默,静寂;v.使安静 | |
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10
beseech
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v.祈求,恳求 | |
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nay
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adv.不;n.反对票,投反对票者 | |
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12
alas
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int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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13
spoke
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n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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14
plunged
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v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 );暴跌;骤降;突降 | |
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15
determined
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adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
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16
meditating
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a.沉思的,冥想的 | |
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17
bounty
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n.慷慨的赠予物,奖金;慷慨,大方;施与 | |
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18
procure
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vt.获得,取得,促成;vi.拉皮条 | |
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19
naval
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adj.海军的,军舰的,船的 | |
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20
captivity
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n.囚禁;被俘;束缚 | |
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21
conqueror
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n.征服者,胜利者 | |
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22
entrapped
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v.使陷入圈套,使入陷阱( entrap的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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23
innocence
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n.无罪;天真;无害 | |
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24
compassion
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n.同情,怜悯 | |
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25
astonishment
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n.惊奇,惊异 | |
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26
vengeance
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n.报复,报仇,复仇 | |
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27
avenged
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v.为…复仇,报…之仇( avenge的过去式和过去分词 );为…报复 | |
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28
resolute
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adj.坚决的,果敢的 | |
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29
falter
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vi.(嗓音)颤抖,结巴地说;犹豫;蹒跚 | |
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30
exacting
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adj.苛求的,要求严格的 | |
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31
rogue
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n.流氓;v.游手好闲 | |
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32
meditate
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v.想,考虑,(尤指宗教上的)沉思,冥想 | |
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33
ashore
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adv.在(向)岸上,上岸 | |
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34
dreaded
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adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
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35
instilled
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v.逐渐使某人获得(某种可取的品质),逐步灌输( instill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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36
schooner
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n.纵帆船 | |
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37
plantations
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n.种植园,大农场( plantation的名词复数 ) | |
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38
growled
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v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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39
harping
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n.反复述说 | |
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40
aptitude
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n.(学习方面的)才能,资质,天资 | |
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41
aver
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v.极力声明;断言;确证 | |
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42
creek
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n.小溪,小河,小湾 | |
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43
bent
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n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
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44
heed
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v.注意,留意;n.注意,留心 | |
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45
chuckled
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轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
ecstasy
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n.狂喜,心醉神怡,入迷 | |
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47
shipping
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n.船运(发货,运输,乘船) | |
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48
deluded
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v.欺骗,哄骗( delude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
hearty
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adj.热情友好的;衷心的;尽情的,纵情的 | |
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50
marshes
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n.沼泽,湿地( marsh的名词复数 ) | |
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51
benediction
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n.祝福;恩赐 | |
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