Page:Once a Week June to Dec 1863.pdf/153

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.
Aug. 1, 1863.]
ONCE A WEEK.
143

Presently out came the explanation. Quillet’s sister-in-law had a little daughter, whose health had been causing anxiety to her parents, and who had been recommended to try change of air. Of all things in the world it was thought that a sea voyage would be likely to do her good. But in those days there were difficulties in the way of sending invalids to sea which have now disappeared. Quillet thought the best plan would be for her to go with him. With a little extra care and management it was possible, he thought, to prevent her wanting necessary supplies for a single day. At all events, he could depend on himself, and they all could depend on him for taking the tenderest care of his pet niece. The idea was voted excellent, and adopted with this amendment—that the mother should be of the party. They all had had reason to be satisfied with their determination, and up to that present speaking the plan had worked in all respects well. The little girl had visibly improved in health, and the voyage had been one of much enjoyment, without drawback.

“So I hope,” said Quillet, when he had finished giving me this account, “that you will enjoy yourself. We’ve been jolly so far, and if things don’t end as they’ve begun, why I shall call you the Jonah that has spoilt our luck.”

I remember the words well, because they had on me a disagreeable effect. I hoped there was nothing of the Jonah about me, and was quite sure that I brought with me only good wishes. At the same time I would rather that he had kept his observation to himself.

In due time I was presented to Mrs. Quillet—the sister-in-law, be it remembered, not wife, of the skipper. A lady-like, agreeable person she was, as one would desire to meet among hats and feathers, let alone coasting schooners. Along with her was her little girl, Bessie, a sweet little angel of about six years old.

And so was our little society constituted on board the Mary Jane—an awful name, but it was registered that of our schooner. I went to them some days before sailing, as it happened to be the most convenient plan with respect to my own movements. We thus became acquainted before putting to sea. During the day the skipper was naturally occupied pretty closely, and the responsibility of taking care of Mrs. Quillet and the little one fell mainly to me. While he was off to the stevedore’s, or settling some row with the crew of a Trabaccolo, I was reading to my new friends, or sketching for them (a great card of mine by-the-by), or strolling with them on shore. I drew for my little friend the boats, and the schooner herself, and the queer figures of the boatmen that were constantly communicating with us. All this amused her vastly, and made us grow better and better friends continually. I suppose, too, I was helped on in the ways of intimacy in that I had no very embarrassing number of competitors. The little creature took to me wonderfully. I should certainly have loved her anywhere and everywhere: under actual circumstances she soon became the very joy and charm of my existence.

Well, in due time we found our way to Rhodes. We anchored off the town, and as my business was not of a nature to press for a day or two, I determined to stop with my friends some four-and-twenty hours and make a preliminary investigation of the island, hoping that on my return I might yet find them stationary. So resolved, so carried out. I arranged for transit to the mainland on the morning of the next day but one, and determined meanwhile to enjoy myself with all possible assiduity.

They who have visited Rhodes—a more numerous company now than in the days of which I write—will understand how perfectly delighted we all were with the spot. The very climate affords a pleasing contrast with that of every other place in the neighbourhood. A perpetual breeze fans the air, and keeps down the temperature to a bearable point; at least, such a breeze we had perpetually during my stay. Windmills stuck thickly over the long spit of coast that stretches into the Mediterranean, demonstrate the aptness of the Rhodians to utilise the resources of nature. They would seem to be the Millers-general of the Levant. The Port itself is very pretty, and affected by only a slight nuance of Frankdom. And beyond the immediate neighbourhood of the town there stretches a most smiling country.

We were to make our excursion into this beautiful interior in the usual fashion, on donkeys. Quite a cavalcade we formed, and full of fun we were. Little Bessie had been accustomed to ride a donkey at home. Mrs. Quillet was not the woman to be afraid of a few bumps; and as for the skipper and myself, we were of course warranted to ride anything. Our route lay in a great measure along the sea-shore, so that there were no great difficulties of road to try us.

The first thing we did was to call on the representatives of the Powers that be. Our own consul (remember this was years ago, so that it will be of no use trying to identify the name from any present list) took us—the men of course I mean—to wait on the Pacha. Then we went, ladies and all, to the houses of some of the other consuls. We found them very kind. Such youthful travellers as little Bessie were rare, and they lavished endearments on her. One lady in particular—we will call her Madame Richard—seemed wonderfully taken with the child. The house was ransacked for everything that might be likely to amuse, and sweetmeats were produced in quantities sufficient to make sick a dozen nurseries. I thought the playthings rather antiquated and out of working order. This was explained to me aside by a female servant, who told me that for many years Madame Richard had been childless, and that her little ones, taken in early childhood, reposed in the quiet plantation used as the Frank burying ground.

Madame Richard could not reconcile herself to our departure. She earnestly pleaded first that we would all stop, and then that the little one might be allowed to stay somewhat longer. We could not hope to make the excursion in company unless we continued our progress at the moment, and we could not afford to dispense with our little darling on the occasion. Her mother naturally enough wished the child’s future recollections of this beautiful scene to be associated with recollec-