My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3)Russell, William Clark
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My Shipmate Louise: The Romance of a Wreck, Volume 3 (of 3)
Russell, William Clark
Sea stories; Shipwrecks -- Fiction
Now that I had assured myself as to the posture of the crew, and was
profoundly satisfied in my own mind that their consuming eagerness to
arrive at the island would guarantee a uniformly proper behaviour in
them, unless they addressed themselves to the rum casks, or unless I
gave them cause to turn upon me, I had no misgiving in suffering Miss
Temple to be seen by them. She was therefore constantly with me on deck
when my lookout came round, and all the hours I could spare from sleep I
dedicated to her society; so that it would be impossible to imagine any
young unmarried couple passing the time in an association more intimate
and incessant. At the beginning of this run to the South Pacific she
showed a spirit that afterwards temporarily failed her. It was two days
after I had consented to navigate the vessel that I observed a certain
air of determination in her, as though she had been earnestly
contemplating our situation, and had formed her resolution to encounter
what might come with courage and patience. Then, after awhile, her pluck
seemed to fail her again; I would find her sitting motionless in the
cabin with her eyes fixed on the deck, and an expression of misery in
her face, as though her heart were broken. I could not induce her to
eat; though, God knows, there was little or nothing to tempt her with.
She could not sleep, she told me; and the glow faded out of her deep and
beautiful eyes. Pale she always was, but now her face took a character
of haggardness, which her whiteness, that was a loveliness in her when
in health, accentuated to a degree that was presently shocking to me.
When on deck, she would take my arm and walk listlessly, almost
lifelessly, by my side, briefly replying to me in low tones, which
trembled with excess of grief.
Secretly loving her as I did, though not as yet had a syllable, nay, as
I believe, had a look of my passion escaped me, I began to dread the
influence of her misery upon my behaviour to the men. She was a constant
appeal to me, so to speak, to call the fellows aft, and tell them that
the girl was pining her heart away, that she must be put ashore or
conveyed aboard another ship this side Cape Horn, though it came to our
backing our maintopsail to wait for one, or that I would throw up my
command of the vessel and refuse to sail her another mile. I say I lived
in mortal fear of my being forced into this by sentiment and sympathy;
for I was advised by every secret instinct, by every glance I levelled
at the crew, by every look I directed at the carpenter, that the certain
issue of such a resolution as that must involve my life!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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