The Pirate Story Megapack. R.M. Ballantyne

gives Moll a very beautiful ring for a troth token, which transports her with joy, so that she cannot enough caress her lover or this toy, but falls first to kissing one and then t’other in a rapture. In return, she gives him a ring from her finger. “’Tis too small for my finger, love,” says he; “but I will wear it against my heart as long as it beats.” After that he finds another case and puts it in Moll’s hand, and she, opening it, fetches her breath quickly and can say nothing for amazement; then, turning it in the light, she regards it with winking eyes, as if dazzled by some fierce brilliancy. And so closing the case as if it were too much for her, she lays her face upon Mr. Godwin’s breast, he having his arm about her, murmuring some inarticulate words of passionate love. Recovering her energies presently, she starts up, and putting the case in her lover’s hand, she bids him put on his gift, therewith pulling down her kerchief to expose her beautiful bare neck, whereupon he draws from the box a diamond collar and clasps it about her throat with a pretty speech. And truly this was a gift worthy of a princess, the most beautiful bauble I have ever seen, and must have cost him all he had of me to the last shilling.

      December 10. Finding amongst Simon’s quittances a bill for law expenses of one John Pearson, attorney, at Maidstone, I concluded this must be the most trustworthy man of his kind in the country; and so set forth early this morning to seek him—a tedious, long journey, and the roads exceedingly foul. By good luck I found Mr. Pearson at home—a very civil, shrewd man, as I think. Having laid my business before him, he tells me there will be no difficulty in dividing the estate according to the wish of Mr. Godwin and Moll, which may be done by a simple deed of agreement; and this he promises to draw up, and send to us for signature in a couple of days. But to get the seal to Moll’s succession will not be such an easy matter, and, unless we are willing to give seven or eight hundred pounds in fees, we may be kept waiting a year, with the chance of being put to greater expense to prove our right; for he tells me the court and all about it are so corrupt that no minister is valued if he do not, by straight or crooked ways, draw money into the treasury, and that they will rather impede than aid the course of justice if it be to the king’s interest, and that none will stir a hand to the advantage of any one but the king, unless it be secretly to his own, etc. And, though he will say nothing against Simon, save (by way of hint) that all men must be counted honest till they are proved guilty, yet he do apprehend he will do all in his power to obstruct the granting of this seal, which it is only reasonable to suppose he will. So, to close this discussion, I agree he shall spend as much as one thousand pounds in bribery, and he thinks we may certainly look to have it in a month at that price. Home late, and very sore.

      December 11. Much astonished this morning on going to my house to find all changed within as if by inchantment—fine hangings to my windows, handsome furniture in every room, all arranged in due order (with a pair of pictures in my parlour), the linen press stocked with all that is needful and more, and even the cellar well garnished with wines, etc. And truly thus embellished my house looks no longer like a prison, but as cheerful and pleasant a dwelling-place as the heart of man could desire (in moderation), and better than any I have yet dreamt of possessing. And ’twas easy to guess whose hands had worked this transformation, even had I not recognised certain pieces of furniture as coming from the Court, for ’twas of a piece with Moll’s loving and playful spirit to prepare this surprise for me while I was gone yesterday to Maidstone. I am resolved I will sleep here henceforth—there being two bedrooms all properly furnished—as being more in keeping with my new position.

      December 13. This day a little before dinner time came Dawson to the Court, quite sober and looking as like a rough honest seaman as anything could be, but evidently with his best shore-going manners on. And when Moll very graciously offers him her hand, he whips out a red handkercher and lays it over her hand before kissing it, which was a piece of ceremony he must have observed at Greenwich, as also many odd phrases and sea expressions with which he garnished his conversation.

      “Captain Evans,” says Moll, taking her lover’s hand, “this is Mr. Godwin, my cousin, and soon to be my husband.”

      Mr. Godwin holds forth his hand, but ere he would take it, Dawson looks him full in the face a good minute; then, taking it in his great grimy hand, and grasping it firmly, “Master,” says Jack, “I see thou art an honest man, and none lives who hath ever sold me tar for pitch, be he never so double-faced, and so I wish you joy of your sweet wife. As for you, Mistress” (turning to Moll) “who have ever been kind to me beyond my deserts, I do wish you all the happiness in the world, and I count all my hardships well paid in bringing you safely to this anchorage. For sure I would sooner you were still Lala Mollah and a slave in Barbary than the Queen of Chiney and ill-mated; and so Lord love the both of you!”

      After staying a couple of hours with us, he was for going (but not before he had given us the instructive history of the torment he had endured, by telling his wife, in an unguarded moment, of his gallantries with Sukey Taylor), nor would he be persuaded to sleep at the Court and leave next day, maintaining that whilst he had never a penny in the world he could very honestly accept Moll’s hospitality, but that now being well-to-do, thanks to her bounty, he blessed Heaven he had sufficient good breeding, and valued himself well enough not to take advantage of her beneficence. However, hearing I had a house of my own, and could offer him a bed, he willingly agreed to be my guest for the night, regarding me as one of his own quality. We stayed to sup at the Court, where he entertained us with a lengthy account of his late voyage, and how being taken in a tempest, his masts had all been swept by the board, and his craft so damaged that ’twas as much as she would hold together till he brought her into Falmouth, where she must lie a-repairing a good two months ere he could again venture to sea in her. And this story he told with such an abundance of detail and so many nautical particulars, that no one in the world could have dreamt he was lying.

      He explained to me later on that he had refused to lie at the Court, for fear a glass or two after supper might lead his tongue astray, telling me that he had touched nothing but penny ale all his long journey from London, for fear of losing his head; and on my asking why he had fabricated that long history of shipwreck he vowed I had put him to it by saying I had a house of my own where he could lie; “For,” says he, “my ship being laid up will furnish me with a very good excuse for coming to spend a day or two with you now and then. So may I get another glimpse of my own dear Moll, and see her in the fulness of her joy.”

      He could not sufficiently cry up the excellence of Mr. Godwin, his noble bearing, his frank, honest countenance, his tenderness for Moll, etc., and he did truly shed tears of gratitude to think that now, whatever befell him, her welfare and happiness were assured; but this was when he had emptied his bottle and had got to that stage of emotion which usually preceded boisterous hilarity when he was in his cups.

      And whilst I am speaking of bottles, it will not be amiss to note here, for my future warning, a grave imprudence of mine, which I discovered on leaving the room to seek more wine. On the flame of my candle blowing aside, I perceived that I had left my door unfastened, so that it now stood ajar. And, truly, this was as culpable a piece of oversight as I could well have committed; for here, had an enemy, or even an idle busybody, been passing, he might very well have entered the little passage and overheard that which had been our undoing to have made known.

      CHAPTER XXVI.

      How Moll Dawson was married to Mr. Richard Godwin; brief account of attendant circumstances.

      December 14. Dawson left us this morning. In parting, Mr. Godwin graciously begged him to come to his wedding feast on Christmas day—they having fixed upon Christmas eve to be married—and Dawson promised he would; but he did assure me afterwards, as we were walking along the road to meet the stage waggon, that he would certainly feign some reason for not coming. “For,” says he, “I am not so foolhardy as to jeopardise my Moll’s happiness for the pleasure this feast would give me. Nay, Kit, I do think ’twould break my heart indeed, if anything of my doing should mar my Moll’s happiness.” And I was very well pleased to find him in this humour, promising him that we would make amends for his abstinence on this occasion by cracking many a bottle to Moll’s joy when we could come together again secretly at my house. In the afternoon Mr. Pearson’s clerk brought the deed of agreement for the settlement of the estate upon Moll and Mr. Godwin, which they signed, and so that is finished as we would