CHAPTER XII
THE CAPTAIN'S AMBITION
"Jack," said the captain, "I am now resolved that Molly shall make her appearance at the assembly, and that as the heiress that she is. Not lowly and humbly. She shall take her place at once among the fine ladies."
"But she is not a gentlewoman, captain," I objected.
"She shall be finer than any gentlewoman of the whole company – just as she is better to look at without any finery."
"Will the company," I asked, "welcome her among them?"
"The women, Jack, will flout and slight her – I have watched them. They flout and slight each other. That breaks no bones. She shall go."
He went on to explain his designs. As you have heard, they were ambitious.
"I have this day acquainted Molly, for the first time, with the truth. She now knows that she is richer than any one believed. As for herself, she never thought about her fortune, knowing, she says, that it was safe in my hands. I have opened her father's strong place – it is in the cellar, behind a stone, and I have taken out the treasures that even her mother never saw, because her father wished to lead a homely life, and concealed his treasures. There are jewels and gold chains, bracelets, necklaces, rings – all kinds of things – Molly has them all – she is even now hugging them all in her lap and trying them on before her looking-glass. She shall go to the assembly covered with jewels."
"Is there any one among the whole company fit for her?" I asked.
"There is one, Jack. He is the noble Lord – the Lord Fylingdale – a very great man, indeed."
"Lord Fylingdale? Captain, are you serious?"
"Why, Jack, who can be too high and too grand for my Molly? He is said to be of a virtuous character and pious disposition; he neither gambles nor drinks, nor is a libertine, as is too common among many of his rank."
"But, captain, he will marry one of his own rank."
"Ta-ta! he will marry a fine girl, virtuously brought up, made finer by her fortune. What more can he expect than beauty, modesty, virtue, and a great – a noble fortune? If the girl pleases him – why, Jack, come to think of it, the girl must please him – she would move the heart of an ice-berg – then, I say, I shall see my girl raised to her proper place, and I shall die happy."
"But, captain, you will raise her above her mother and above yourself, and above all her old friends. You will lose her altogether."
"Ay, there's the rub. But I shall be contented even with that loss if she is happy."
I can see even now the honest eyes of the good old man humid for a moment as he contemplated his own loss, and I can hear his voice shake a little at thinking of the happiness he designed for his ward.
No one would believe that the captain could be so cunning. No one who reads this history would believe, either, that a man could be so ignorant and so simple. We were all as ignorant and as simple. We all believed what these lying people – these creatures of the devil – (when I say the devil I mean Lord Fylingdale) – told us. Sir Harry said that he was too virtuous and too serious for the world of fashion; the parson said that he was the most cleanly liver of all young men; the poet swore that he was all day long doing and scheming acts of charity and goodness towards the unfortunate. They were all in a tale – these villains – and we were simple and ignorant folk, credulous sailors and honest citizens living remote from the vices of town, who knew nothing and suspected nothing. As for myself, I was carried away, as much as the old captain, with the thought of the honour and glory that awaited our Molly. I concluded, in my simplicity, that the mere appearance and sight of the lovely girl would make all the men fall madly in love with her, without considering the hundred thousand additional charms held in trust for her by her guardian.
After this talk with the captain I sought Molly. She was in the summerhouse up the garden with her treasures spread out before her. It was a most wonderful sight – but it filled me with madness. I never imagined such a pile of gold and of precious stones. There were diamonds, and rubies, and blue sapphires; there were all kinds of gems, with chains of gold and bracelets – a glittering pile of gold and jewels. Yet my heart sank at the spectacle.
"Look, Jack, look," she cried. "They are all mine! All mine!" She gathered up a handful, and let them roll through her fingers. "All mine! Only think, and yesterday I was thinking how delightful it must be to have even one gold chain to hang round my neck! All mine!"
"Has your mother seen them, Molly?"
"Yes; she knew that there were things somewhere, but my father kept them put away. Mother didn't want jewels and chains. They came to us from grandfather, who sailed to the East Indies and brought them home. Look at the dainty delicate work!" She held up a chain most wonderful for its fine small work. "Did you ever see anything more beautiful?"
I turned away. The sight of the treasures made me sick. For, you see, they showed me how wide was the gulf between Molly and me.
"You want no jewels, Molly. I wish you were poor with all my heart."
"Oh! Jack! and so not to have these lovely things? That is cruel of you. And oh! Jack, I am to go to the assembly to-morrow evening."
"So the captain tells me."
"At last. Victory and Amanda" – Victory was the daughter of the curate of St. Nicholas, and Amanda was the daughter of the doctor – "have been already, and I have been kept at home. The dear, bewitching assembly! The music! The dancing! The fine ladies!"
"There will be none finer than you, Molly."
"That is what the captain says. I am to wear my gold chains and my jewels. My dress is waiting to be tried on. It came from Norwich. I shall not let you see it till the evening. The hairdresser is engaged for to-morrow afternoon. Victory says that the fine ladies turn up their noses and hide their faces with their fans when the girls of the place pass before them. Why? Victory does not thrust her company upon them. Nor shall I. As for that, I can bear their disdainful looks and their flouts with patience, I dare say."
"If these are the manners of the Great," I said, "give me our own manners."
"We are not gentlefolk, Jack, you and I and the captain. We must not complain. If we intrude upon the Quality they will show what they think of us. To be sure, the captain says that I could buy up the whole room. But I don't want to buy up anybody. I would rather let them go their own way, so that I may go mine. Jack, if I were a great lady I think I would be kind to a girl who was not so well born, if only she knew her place."
"You need not be humble, Molly. When they know who you are, and what is your fortune, you will make these fine ladies ashamed."
"The captain wants me to marry some great person," she laughed. "Oh! If the great person could see me making the bed and baking the apple pie and beating the eggs for the custard, with my sleeves turned up and my apron tied round my waist! What a fine lady I shall make, to be sure!"
"Well, but, Molly, remember that you are rich. You cannot marry anybody in Lynn. You must look higher."
"Jack, it makes me laugh. How shall I learn to be a great lady? How should I command an army of servants who have had but my faithful black? How should I sit in a gilded coach, who am used to ride a pony or to sail a boat?"
"You will soon get accustomed, Molly, even to a coach and six and running footmen, such as Lord Fylingdale has. You are not like Victory and Amanda, and the rest of the girls of Lynn, portionless and penniless. You must remember the station to which your fortune calls you."
"Money makes not a gentleman," she returned. "Nor a gentlewoman. I know my station. It is here, with my guardian, among my old friends. Well, perhaps I shall not take my place in what you call my station this year – or next year." Her face cleared, and became once more full of sunshine. "Jack," she said, "has the captain told you? No one is to dance with me to-morrow except yourself. We are to have the last minuet and first country dance together. None of the pretty fellows at the assembly are to speak to me. It is arranged with Mr. Prappet. They may look on with admiration and longing, Mr. Prappet says."
Since the arrival of our master of the ceremonies, Mr. Prappet, the dancing master of Norwich, he had been giving Molly lessons in those arts of dancing and the carriage of the body, the arms, the face, the head, which are considered to mark the polite world. As for myself, I was called upon to be her partner. Truth to say, I was always better at a hornpipe or a jig than in any of the fashionable dances; but, in a way, I could make shift to go through the steps.
"Now," she said, "let us practise once more by ourselves."
So we stepped out upon the grass, and there – she in her stuff frock, her apron, her hair lying about her neck and shoulders, and I in my workaday garb – we practised the dance which belongs to the assembly, to courts, to stately ladies and to gentlemen of birth and rank.
The captain was more cunning than one could have believed possible. He would produce this girl before the astonished company. They should see that she was more beautiful than any other woman in the whole room; more finely dressed; covered with gold chains and jewels; thus proclaiming herself as an heiress of great wealth. She should dance, at first, with none but one of her own station, or near it, and her old companion. She would first make all the world talk about her; but she should be kept apart. It should be understood that she was not for any of the young fellows of the company. Then, if she attracted the attention of this young nobleman, so virtuous, so pious, and of such rare qualities of heart and head – the thing which most he desired – her marriage with some man of high position, fit for such a girl, might take place. That was his design, thinking of Lord Fylingdale. If it failed he would withdraw the girl from the company and cast about for some other way.
While we were practising he came into the garden and stood leaning on his stick to look at us.
"Body and bones!" he said; "you've caught the very trick of it. Prappet has taught you how they do it. Sprawl, Jack; sprawl with a will. Twist and turn your body. Shake your leg, man. It's a fine leg; better than most. Shake it lustily. Slide, Molly, slide; slide with zeal. Slide and bend and twist, and shake your fan. I don't call that dancing! Why, there isn't a lad in any fo'k'sle couldn't do it better. Give them the hornpipe, Jack, when the sliding and sprawling is finished. Stand up and say, 'Ladies, your most obedient. I will now show a dance that is a dance.'"
When we finished he went on with his discourse.
"Molly has told you, I suppose. She will dance to-morrow evening with none but you. After the country dance lead her to her chair, and we will walk home beside her."
"Jack will look very fine among all the beaux," said Molly, laughing.
Truly, I had not considered the matter of dress, and I stood in my workaday things – to wit, a brown frieze coat with black buttons, a drugget waistcoat, shag breeches, and black stockings. I remembered the grand silk and velvet of the beaux and stood abashed.
"Show him, captain," said Molly, laughing, "what we have got for him."
The captain shook his head. "My mind misgives me," he said. "That boy will feel awkward in this new gear. However, fine feathers make fine birds. Also fine birds flock together. Since thou art to dance with Molly, my lad, thy rig must do credit to her as well as thyself, so come with me."
If you believe me, the captain, who thought of everything, had provided such a dress as might have been worn by any gentleman in the room without discredit. It consisted of a blue coat with silver buttons and silver braid; a waistcoat of pink silk, velvet breeches, and white silk stockings. There was added a gold laced hat with lace for throat and sleeves.
"So," said the captain when I stood before him arrayed in this guise, "'tis a gentleman born and bred, to look upon. Powder thy hair, my lad; tie it with a white ribbon and a large bow. There will not be a fribble in the whole company, even including the poor old atomy, Sir Harry, to compare with you."
Molly clapped her hands. "Jack!" she cried, "if I pretend to be a great lady you must pretend to be an admiral, at least. Why, sir, I feel as if we had never known you before. As for me – but you shall see." She sighed. "It is only for the evening," she said. "We shall come home and I shall put on my old homespun again and you your shag and your frieze. I am Cinderella and you are Cinderella's brother, and the captain is the Fairy."
So we laughed and made merry. Yet still I felt that sinking of the heart which weighed upon me from the first night of the great discovery and never left me. There are sailors – I have known such – I think that I am myself one – who know beforehand by such a premonitory sinking when the voyage will be stormy. Nay, there are some who know and can foretell when the ship will be cast away and all her crew drowned in the sea or broken to pieces against the rocks.
I looked into the parlour and found Molly's mother. She sat with her work in her hands, her lips moving, her eyes fixed. And I saw that she was unhappy. She was a homely body always. One could understand that her husband was right in judging that she was not likely to want jewels and gold chains or to show them to advantage. Like many women of the station in which she was born (which was beneath that of her husband) she was unlearned, and could not read; but she was a notable housewife.
"Jack," she said, coming to herself, "Molly has told you, I suppose."
"I have seen her treasures, and have heard that she is to go to the assembly."
"She is richer than I suspected. Oh, Jack, she will marry some great man, the captain says – and so I shall lose my girl – and she is all I have in the world – all I have – all I have!"
She threw her apron over her head – and I slipped away, my heart full of forebodings. It is wonderful to remember these forebodings because they were so fully justified. Patience! You shall hear.
CHAPTER XIII
MOLLY'S FIRST MINUET
I have now to tell you how Molly made her first public appearance at the assembly, and how she delighted and pleased the kindly ladies who formed the company.
It was a crowded gathering. Lord Fylingdale, it was known, would be present. Many gentlemen, therefore, who would otherwise have been at the coffee house, the tavern, or the cockpit, were present in honour of this distinguished visitor, or in the hope of being presented to him. And all the ladies visiting the spa were there as well, young and old, matrons and maids; the latter, perhaps, permitting themselves dreams of greatness.
His lordship arrived brave in apparel, tall, handsome, proud, still in early manhood, wearing his star upon his breast. Every girl's heart beat only to think of the chance should she be able to attract the attention and the passion of such a man. He was accompanied (say, followed) by his secretary, our poet – the only poet that our town has produced. The master of the ceremonies received him with a profound bow, and, after a few words, conducted him to the chair or throne on which sat the Lady Anastasia with a small court around her. Then the music began, and Lord Fylingdale led out that lady for the minuet. And the company stood around in a circle, admiring. He next danced with the young wife of a Norfolk gentleman and member of Parliament, after which he retired and stood apart. Sir Harry followed, dancing twice with a fine show of agility. After him others of lower rank followed. Towards the conclusion of the minuet Molly entered the room, led by her guardian, Captain Crowle, and followed by myself in my new disguise.
The captain was no better dressed than if he were sitting in the Crown Inn, save that he had exchanged his worsted stockings for white silk. He looked what he was – a simple sailor and commander of a ship. But no one regarded him or myself, because all eyes were turned upon Molly.
She appeared before the astonished assembly clothed, so to speak, with diamonds and precious stones, glittering in the light of the candles like a crowd of stars. She was covered with jewels. Diamonds were in her headdress; they were also hanging from her neck; there were rubies and emeralds, sapphires and opals in her necklace and her bracelets; heavy gold chains, light gold chains, gold chains set with pearls were hanging about her. She was clothed, I say, from head to foot with gold and with precious stones.
The intention of the captain was carried out. On her first appearance she proclaimed herself as she stood before them all as an heiress who was able to carry a great fortune upon her back, as the saying is, and to have another great fortune at home. Never before had the company beheld so strange a sight; a girl wearing so much wealth and such splendid jewels for a simple assembly.
Then from lip to lip was passed the words, "Who is she? What is her name? Where does she come from? What is her family? What is the meaning of this resplendent show of gems and gold? Are they real? Why does she wear them?" And for the whole of that evening, while Molly was in the room, no one thought of anything except this wonderful vision of dazzling jewels. The eyes of the whole company followed her about, and in their conversation they talked of nothing else. For, of all things, this was the most unexpected, and, to all the other maidens, the most disconcerting. They were plain country girls, while Molly was a goddess. To say that she outshone them all is to say nothing. There was no comparison possible.
Truly the captain was right. There was no one in that room who could compare with Molly – either for beauty or for bravery of apparel. As for her beauty, it was of the kind the power of which women seem not to understand. Men, who do understand it, call it loveliness. Venus herself – Helen of Troy – Fair Rosamond – Jane Shore – all the fair women of whom we have heard, possessed, I am sure, this loveliness. Your regular beauty of straight features of which so much is made doth never, I think, attract mankind so surely, or so quickly; doth never hold men so strongly; doth never make them so mad with love. It is the woman of the soft eyes, the sweet eyes, the eyes that are sometimes hazel and sometimes blue, the eyes full of light and sunshine, the eyes where Cupid plays; the lips that are always ready to smile; the lips so rosy red; so round and small; the cheek that is like a peach for softness and for bloom, touched with a natural pink and red; the rounded chin; the forehead white and not too large; the light brown hair that is almost flaxen, curling naturally but disposed by art. Such a woman was Molly.
Yet not a weakly thin slip of a girl. She was tall and strong; her arms were round and white as a woman's should be, but they were big as well, as if they could do man's work – they were strengthened and rounded by the oars which she had handled from childhood. Her ample cheek wanted no daub of paint; it had a fine healthy colour, like a damask rose, but more delicate; her eyes were full and bright; there was no girl in the place, not even among the country ladies, could show a face and figure so strong, so finely moulded, of such large and generous charms. When the men gazed upon her they gasped; when the women gazed upon her their hearts sank low with envy.
How am I to describe her dress? I know that her head was made in what they called the English fashion, with a structure of lace, thin wires and round rolls on cushions, with ringlets at the sides and pinned to a small cap on the top.
All I can safely say about her dress is that she wore a gown of cherry-coloured silk, with gold flowers over a petticoat of pink silk adorned by a kind of network of gold lace; that her sleeves were wide with a quantity of lace – I have never carried a cargo of lace, and therefore I know not its value; that her gloves were of white silk; that her arms were loaded with bracelets which clanged and clashed when she moved; and that chains of gold hung round her neck and over her shoulders.
The master of ceremonies received us with distinction.
"Captain Crowle," he said, loudly, "you have too long withheld your lovely ward from the assembly of the spa. I would invite her to dance the last minuet with Mr. Pentecrosse."
All this had been arranged beforehand. The people gazed curiously, and began to press around us as I advanced with Molly's hand in mine.
"Be not abashed, Jack," whispered the old captain. "They know not what to think. Show them how the dance should be done. Slide and sprawl, my lad. Sprawl with a will and both together," he added, hoarsely, "with a yo-heave-ho!"
Then the music began again, and Molly stood opposite to me – and the dance began.
For my own part I obeyed the captain's admonition. I endeavoured to forget the people who were looking on – I tried to think that we were rehearsing in the garden – and feeling confidence return, I began to slide and sprawl with a will.
All the people were gathered round us in a circle. The ladies, holding their fans before their faces, tittered and giggled audibly. The men, for their part, laughed openly, making observations not intended to be good-natured. They were laughing at me! And I was getting on, as I believed, so well. However, I did not know the cause of their merriment, and carried on the sprawling with a greater will than ever.
I am sorry now, whenever I think upon it, that Molly had not a better partner. For my performance, which was quite correct, and in every particular exactly what Mr. Prappet had taught me, was distinguished, I learned afterwards, by a certain exaggeration of gesture due to my desire to be correct, which made the dance ridiculous. If only I had been permitted to give them a hornpipe! What had I, a mere tarpaulin, as they say, to do with fine clothes, fashionable sliding and sprawling, and the pretence of fashionable manners?
You must not think that Molly, though it was her first appearance in public, though she wore these fine things for the first time, though all eyes were upon her, was in the least degree abashed. She bore herself with modesty and an assumed unconsciousness of what people were saying and how they were looking at her, which certainly did her great credit. And I am quite sure that, whatever my own performance, hers was full of grace and ease, and the dignity which makes this dance so fit for great lords and ladies and so unfit for rustic swains and shepherdesses. She smiled upon her partner as sweetly as if we were together in the garden; she played her fan as prettily as if we were rehearsing the dance with mirth and merriment – it was a costly fan, with paintings upon it and a handle set with pearls.
The dance was finished at last, and I led my partner to the end of the room, where the maids sat all in a row with white aprons and white caps – among them Molly's woman, Nigra – to repair any disorder to the head or to the dress caused by the active movements of the dance.
And then they all began to talk. I could hear fragments and whole sentences. They were talking about us.
"Who is she, then?" asked one lady, impatiently. "Where does she come from?"
"Perhaps a sea nymph," replied a gentleman, gallantly, "brought from the ocean by the god Neptune, who stands over yonder. One can smell the seaweed."
"And the gems and chains come, I suppose, from old wrecks."
"Or," said the ancient beau, Sir Harry, "a wood nymph from the train of Diana. In that case the old gentleman may be the god Pan. The nymphs of Diana, it appears, have lately taken lessons in the fashionable dance. As yet, unfortunately – " He shrugged his shoulders.
"I cannot choose but hear, Jack," said Molly. "Let us make as if we heard nothing."
"She is an actress," said another lady. "I saw her last night in the play. She personated an impudent maidservant. The chains and gems are false; one can see that with half an eye. They are what those vagabond folk call stage properties."
Yet another took up the parable. "She should be put to the door, or she should stand in a white apron with the maids. What? We are decent and respectable ladies, I hope."
"They are not gems at all," observed a young fellow, anxious to display his wit. "They are the lamps from the garden. She has cut them down and hung them round herself. See the pretty colours – red – green – blue."
"Let her put them back again, then, and leave the company into which she dares to intrude." This was the spiteful person who had seen her on the stage and knew her for one of the strollers. The resentment of the ladies against a woman who presumed to be more finely dressed than themselves, and to display more jewels than they themselves possessed, or even hoped to possess, was deeper and louder than one could believe possible. Yet this was a polite assembly, and these ladies had learned the manners which we are taught to copy, at a distance – we who are not gentlefolk.
"Jack," said Molly, "these are the flouts of which the captain warned us. Lead me round the room. Right through the middle of them, so that they may see with half an eye how false are my jewels."
I obeyed. They fell back, making a lane for us, and talking about us after we passed through them, without the least affectation of a whisper.
They had an opportunity, however, of seeing the dress and the trappings more closely.
"My dear," said one, "the jewels are real. I am sure they are real. On the stage they wear large glass things. Those are brilliants of the first water in her hair, and those are true pearls about her neck."
"And her dress," said another, "is of the finest silk; and did you see the gold lace in front of her petticoat? The dress and the jewels, they must be worth – oh! worth a whole estate. Who can she be?"
"Such a woman," observed an elderly matron very sweetly, "would probably be ashamed to say where she found those things. Oh! But the master of the ceremonies must be warned. She must not be tolerated here again."
"How kind they are, Jack!" whispered Molly.
"Who is the fellow with her?" I heard next.
"He sells flounders and eels in the market. I have seen him in a blue coat and long white sleeves and an apron."
"No. He is a clerk in a counting-house."
"Not at all. The fellow, like the girl, belongs to the strollers. I saw him last night laying a carpet on the stage."
"A personable fellow, with a well turned leg." This compliment made me blush. "It is his misfortune that he must be coupled with so impudent a baggage."
"You see, Jack," said Molly, "it all comes back to me."
So we went on walking round the room, pretending to hear nothing. We met Victory, also walking round the room with her beau, a young merchant of the town. She, fortunate girl! had no jewels with which to excite the envy, hatred, and malice of the ladies. She was unmolested, though not a gentlewoman by station.
"Molly," she said, "you are splendid. I have never seen such a show of jewels. But you will drive them mad with envy. Hateful creatures! I see them turning green. The minuet was beautiful, my dear. Oh! Jack, you made me laugh.