"First, then, my name is Strickland--John Strickland!"
Here he paused, and, though his head was bent, I saw him watching
me beneath his brows.
"Well?" said I.
"I am a supercargo."
Again he paused expectantly, but seeing I merely nodded, he
continued: "Upon one of my voyages, our vessel was wrecked, and, so far as I
know, all save myself and six others--four seamen and two
passengers--were drowned. The passengers I speak of were an old
merchant--and his daughter, a very beautiful girl; her name was
--Angela, sir."
Once again he paused and again he eyed me narrowly.
"Well?" said I.
"Well, sir," he resumed, speaking in a low, repressed voice, "we
seven, after two miserable days in a drifting boat, reached an
island where, that same night, the old merchant died. Sir, the
sailors were wild, rough men; the island was a desolate one from
whence there was seemingly no chance of escape, it lying out of
the usual track of ships, and this girl was, as I have said, very
beautiful. Under such conditions her fate would have been
unspeakable degradation, and probably death; but, sir, I fought
and bled for her, not once but many times, and eventually I
killed one of them with my sheath-knife, and I remember, to this
hour, how his blood gushed over my hands and arms, and sickened
me. After that they waited hourly to avenge his death, and get
me out of their way once and for all, but I had my long knife,
and they but such rude weapons as they could devise. Day after
day, and night after night, I watched for an opportunity to
escape with the boat, until at last, one day while they were all
three gone inland, not dreaming of any such attempt, for the sea
was very dangerous and high, with the girl's help I managed to
launch the boat, and so stood out to sea. And I remember those
three sailors came running with great shouts and cries, and flung
themselves down upon the beach, and crawled upon their knees,
praying to be taken off along with us, and begging us not to
leave them to perish. After three days' buffeting at the mercy
of the seas, we were picked up by a brig bound for Portsmouth,
and, six months later, were in England. Sir, it is impossible
for a man to have lived beside a beautiful woman day by day, to
have fought for and suffered with her, not to love her also.
Thus, seeing her friendless and penniless, I wooed and won her to
wife. We came to London, and for a year our life was perfect,
until, through stress of circumstances, I was forced to take
another position aboard ship. Well, sir, I bade farewell to my
wife, and we set sail. The voyage, which was to have lasted but
three months, was lengthened out through one misadventure after
another, so that it was a year before I saw my wife again, At
first I noticed little difference in her save that she was paler,
but, gradually, I came to see that she was unhappy. Often I have
wakened in the night to find her weeping silently.