English fiction -- 19th century; Sea stories; Ships -- Fiction
‘But what will become of you without me?’ wailed the woman. ‘Do you
know what that brute will do when he finds out you’ve tricked him?
He’ll half kill you, as he’s tried to often and often in this very
room; and you’d have been dead now, if it hadn’t been for me. I
_can’t_ let you go alone, mistress. You’ll never come back. He’ll find
some means of making away with you out there.’
‘Oh, Maggie! what can I do?’ exclaimed her mistress. ‘I should love to
take you with me--indeed, my troubles have been so many I never thought
what an additional one parting with you would prove, till you mentioned
it to me. But how can I raise the money, dear? I have only seven
shillings left.’
‘You shan’t go alone,’ said Maggie fiercely; ‘I won’t trust you with
him alone. I ain’t fit to be your protector, but I’m the only one
you’ve got, and it’s the only way I can make up to you for all the harm
I’ve done you.’
‘How strangely you talk, Maggie. What harm have you ever done me?’
‘Ah, don’t mind my chatter, dear; I’m half crazy with grief and fear,
and I don’t know what I’m saying. But you sha’n’t fall into that
devil’s clutches if I can save you. Don’t all this furniture belong to
you, mistress?’
‘Yes, Maggie, such as it is, it is ours--and we only have the rooms by
the week.’
‘Well, mistress, I have a few shillings saved out of my wages, and if
you’ll leave it all to me, I’ll manage it.’
‘But how, Maggie?’ demanded Iris.
‘I’ll give Mrs Barton notice at once, and move you out into other
rooms on Saturday, and then I’ll get rid of the sticks and things, and
they’ll pull us through.’
‘Oh, Maggie, they will never fetch more than a few pounds at the
outside. There is hardly a sound piece of furniture amongst them.’
‘Yes! thanks to his tantrums. But there will be enough for our purpose.
Mistress, you _must_ give in to me in this, for if I steals the money I
shall sail in that ship with you. Oh, my dear, my dear! Don’t you know
as I’d lay down my worthless life to save you pain.’
And with that the two poor creatures fell into each other’s arms and
wept. They were as different to look at as light from darkness, but
they possessed one great virtue in common, a true and genuine woman’s
heart.
[Illustration]
[Illustration]
CHAPTER VIII.
THE ‘_PANDORA_.’
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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