Chapter XV: The Voice of the Soul

I had scarcely fallen into the water when I felt myself drawn up again. Unknown to me a rope had been fastened around me, and in another minute I stood upon the deck.

"Good!" cried the captain. "You stood the test well, and are just the sort of fellow we want." I looked at him in astonishment.

"Yes, you may look," he said, "but at heart you are one of us. I can see both discontent and defiance in your eyes, your face. You are out of love with the world, and when you know my history you'll sympathise with me, and won't take much persuading to become one of our crew."

I was thereupon taken to a cabin, where I was supplied with dry clothes, after which the captain came and spoke to me. Evidently, he was desirous of my becoming one of his allies, for without hesitation he told me the history of his life and his reasons for leading such a life.

I will not repeat his story at length. I do not wish to recall in detail the terrible things he related. True to his Spanish nature, he hated intensely and loved intensely. When quite a boy he had loved, and his love had been returned. There were months of happiness, then a rich nobleman appeared, and, fascinated by the beauty of his betrothed sought to win her from him. Defeated in this, he used force. Then followed a succession of plots and cunning intrigue, and, finally, through the avarice and greed of his love's father, through social influence, and through devilry of the worst kind, he, the pirate captain, was robbed of the one for whom he would have died, while she became disgraced and ruined. Then his passion burned to white heat, and revenge was his one object. He did not rest until he had killed his rival, after which he was obliged to fly. Others who had been engaged with him in the fray left with him, and formed themselves into a band, which gradually grew until they became what they were.

I shall never forget the terrible intensity with which he told his story; how at one time his eyeballs were red as fire, and at another his hands trembled with passion; and again, when he told of the beauty of his betrothed, how his voice became gentle, and his eye became moist. In spite of everything I could not help sympathising with him, and, afterwards, when he spoke of his buccaneering career and remembered what led him to it I did not wonder.

Need I tell how, little by little, I fell in with the captain's proposals and vowed allegiance to him? I can scarcely realise what happened now; it seems but as a half-forgotten dream; though real enough then. In those days my better nature was dead, or nearly so. I had allowed one passion to conquer me, and it had poisoned my whole being. I had learnt the meaning of the words of Scripture: "For whosoever shall keep the whole law and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all." This is more than mere words; it is a principle of life. One passion corrupts the whole being, degrades the whole man, and thus I, because I entertained hate for my brother, lost my finer nature and joined a crew of pirates.

I will not portray the life we led; how by sheer brute force and will power I fought my way up until I was next in power to the captain himself. I could fill a volume in narrating the battles we fought and the hair-breadth escapes we had, but whoever reads these lines must imagine for themselves how we dreaded being taken, and how we vowed a terrible vow to die the most awful death rather than be conquered by any vessel, of whatever nationality. Truly it was a wild life, full of danger and peril; and yet I was happier in it than I had been for years. There was freedom on the wide seas, there were interest and excitement in our constant frays. The life suited my uncouth, rugged nature, and thus for two years I almost forgot my past and lived only in the excitement of the present.

I had been ten years away from home, ten years without ever catching sight of the British shores. Eight years I had served on trading vessels of various nationalities, and two years I had been a pirate, when another change came.

I was sitting one evening alone, watching the setting sun, when I began to think of my old life. I remembered all the legends of our house and name as vividly as if I had been hearing them during the last ten years. I thought of my father's warning that I should never leave the Trewinion estate for six months at a time; if I did the race for three generations would be cursed, while I should be haunted by dark spirits on my deathbed. I remembered how he told me that if a Trewinion did what was unlawful he brought down the vengeance of Heaven. And I had been away ten years; I had become a pirate and was ever under a sentence of death. I thought again of old Deborah Teague's warning, of the cave full of evil women, and wondered. Then memories of Ruth came back to me, and I saw her at Trewinion Manor as Wilfred's wife. I wondered if I should ever see them all again--wondered, and then tried to forget. I became oblivious of the beauty of the setting sun and of my surroundings. The ship on which I sailed might be a ship of the fancy for all I knew, for all I knew the crew might be spirits or men. I was back again in my old home, and when at length I was aroused from my reverie I could not get rid of the impression that I was wanted, needed amongst the scenes of my childhood.

Presently the captain came near and laid his hand on my shoulder.

"Tretheway, I am getting tired of this roving life," he said.

"So am I," was my reply.

"I have been thinking," he went on, "if there may not be happiness and peace for me even yet. I have been wondering if I may not return to the land of my birth, and maybe find someone whom I can love and who can love me."

I looked up into his face. There was a soft expression in his eyes, and his lip was tremulous.

"Perhaps the way may open up soon," I said.

"It shall," he replied, sternly, and walked away.

Soon after this I turned in. I did not expect to sleep, but no sooner had my head been placed on the pillow than I fell asleep and dreamed.

I saw the old home again as plainly as if I were there, and recognised several of the servants. Katherine and Elizabeth I could not see, but my mother was there, and Wilfred. In my dream I wandered from room to room. I felt sure that Ruth was in the house, but I could not find her. At length I entered the library. I thought I could see everything, and yet I was unseen. It appeared to me that while my spirit was there my body was elsewhere. All my thinking powers were supernaturally awake, but my body was asleep.

The room was in darkness, or nearly so, and I thought no one was there until I heard a sigh, and then I saw Ruth. She moved in her chair as if weary. A servant entered bearing a light, and then I saw her face. It was wonderfully changed. It was not that she looked older, but that she was so weary and wan. The old joyous light was gone from her eyes, and she was very thin and fragile.

"Ah!" I thought, "the marriage has not been happy. Perhaps Wilfred has not been kind to her; perhaps she has children, and they are sickly."

I looked at her hand, but could see no wedding ring. Then I heard a noise outside and a whispering, and I saw that her face had a look of terror upon it, as though she dreaded some great calamity.

The door opened, and in walked my mother and Wilfred.

I looked at both their faces and watched their expression. Hers looked somewhat haggard and hard; while his was cunning and yet fascinating.

They sat down beside her, and mother asked her why she looked so troubled and wan; but she was silent. Then Wilfred spoke to her.

"Ruth," he said, "the ten long years have come to an end. You know your promise. Think how patiently I have waited, and how I must have loved you to wait so long. Now, Ruth, let us wed at once, so that we may fulfil our fathers' wishes."

Then I looked at her again, and from her eyes tears fell, and on her face was such a look of misery that her enemy, had she one, could not help pitying her.

"You are not Trewinion's heir," she murmured.

"How can you say that?" he replied. "Roger is dead, of that we are sure. You know that his body was found a few days after his departure, bruised and battered, 'tis true, but still my mother recognised him, and so did Mr. Inch, and Mr. Polperrow. All believed it was Roger but you, and so when I asked you to fulfil our fathers' wishes you would not. Then the months and years passed on, and Roger came not; so I pleaded with you again, and you said if Roger came not within ten years of his departure you would believe him dead and wed me. Those ten years are complete this very night, and I am come again to claim my promise."

Then I saw Ruth bury her face in her hands and sob bitterly.

Again the door opened, and I saw Mr. Inch enter with a roll of papers in his hand.

"Mr. Inch," cried Ruth, "will you not be my friend, will you not tell me that this need not be?"

Then I saw Mr. Inch and Wilfred change glances, and the former open his roll of papers.

"I am your friend," he said; "and I am also your father's old servant, and I would see his wishes carried out."

Then he began to read:--"'I desire my daughter Ruth to dwell in the house of my friend, Roger Trewinion, and that she shall be wedded to his heir, so that the two estates shall be united. And it is my will that she shall be wedded to him as soon as possible after she comes of age, and to remain at Trewinion Manor until within a month of the wedding day. Then she shall return to Morton Hall to prepare for the marriage ceremony.' This is an extract from the will," he went on, "and I should not be a friend to Miss Ruth if I failed to see this carried out. We have waited now many years beyond the time, and if this be not done soon the bodies of the dead fathers will rise from their graves to know why their wishes have not been fulfilled."

Then I heard Ruth speak again.

"Oh, Roger, Roger," she said, "why did you go away?"

"Why?" said my mother, "because you drove him. He was mad with love for you, and because you scorned him he ended his days. Be careful, or, perchance, you will drive my other son to his death as well."

At this she looked up to the faces of those in the room with an expression of dull despair.

"I will obey my father's will," she said huskily, "make what arrangements you choose."

Then I saw Wilfred move towards her, as if to embrace her; and I thought I went forward too, as if to hinder him, but Ruth looked up and gave a scream, half of joy, half of fear.

"Roger is here!" she cried.

I thought I saw consternation on every face, then all melted away, and I awoke.

I was lying in my cabin in a pirate vessel, was not at home at all; what I had seen was a mocking dream. And yet all was real. I could not believe that I had not been at home, though I knew it could not be. I was away on the broad seas, hundreds of miles from land. My imagination had been excited, and I had dreamed--that was all. I tried to sleep again, but could not, I was constantly thinking of what I had seen in my vision. Then I remembered the day of the month and the year. Yes, ten years ago that very night I had left home. I had not been thinking of that, but in spite of everything it had been revealed to me in my dream. Was it a dream, or was it real? Had my spirit travelled home, the spirit that knows no boundary or limits, had I seen a vision of what really existed?

Such a thing was without precedent in my experience, and yet why should it not be? Our bodies are not ourselves. We are distinct from the flesh, the bone, the sinew, why then might not the spirit have liberty to go home to its early associations?

I could remain in my cabin no longer. I rushed up to the deck, saw two sailors standing at the post of duty. I spoke a word to them, and then went towards the forecastle alone.

The night was as still as death, not a ripple could I see on the waters. I looked around me, and all was smooth, placid sea. I looked upwards and saw a cloudless sky, the full moon was almost as bright as the sun itself, so much so that the stars barely showed themselves. Now and then I could hear the gentle lapping of the water against the vessel's side, but beyond that--nothing.

I stood alone, minute after minute, thinking. I could not forget my dream, for such I had forced myself to believe it was, when----

What was it I heard?

The cry of a woman! A wail of distress!

My heart seemed ready to burst; but I listened.

Then I heard words. I heard my own name uttered by a woman' voice!

And I was alone on a vessel, with nothing but men on board, hundreds of miles from land, and no other vessel near.

"Roger! Roger! where are you?" said the voice.

I answered not, I could not, for my tongue clave to the roof of my mouth, but eagerly I listened.

"Come to me, Roger! Come to me, or they will kill me!"

It was Ruth's voice, carried by the power of God to me. I was wanted home. I was sure of it, yet I could make no answer to what I had heard. For years I had forgotten God, but He had not forgotten me. He had revealed Himself in the voice I had heard. He had carried the message of Ruth's heart to me. I was sure now that there was a God in Heaven, and that He was telling me to frustrate evil.

Then something told me that all this was fancy, the result of an excited brain. I had been dreaming, and now I fancied I had heard what only existed in a mind half mad. I rushed to one of the sailors.

"Did you hear a woman's voice, just now?" I said.

"Woman's voice?" said the man, evidently surprised, "why no, sir!"

Had I been mistaken? Was it all delirium?

Again I strained my ears, and again I heard the voice.

"Come, Roger, I am all alone. Oh come to me!"

I answered, but whether articulately or no I cannot say; the words I said in my heart were,

"I am coming, Ruth, I am coming."

Then it seemed to me that the broad waste of waters reiterated my words, until away in the far distance, where the sea lost itself in the sky, I could hear them repeated "I am coming, Ruth, I am coming."

I know that this will seem strange to whoever may read it, but I only speak the truth. Perhaps my sons and my sons' sons may say it was simply the result of an overwrought mind; but I believe otherwise.

For hours I walked the deck, but I heard nothing more. I expected nothing. I weighed what I had seen in my dreams, and connected it with what I had heard in my waking moments. What did it mean? First my fears said it was but the deceitful words of the devil, who would drag me deeper into sin. But my heart cast that off. I felt that there was no evil agency at work. Then I thought it was only a dream; but how could that be? Why should it come that night, exactly ten years from the time I had left home, and why should I hear the voice afterwards? And so I came to the conclusion that I had been allowed by God to know that I was needed at home.

The thought gave me new life, new energy. The passion of my hatred was stunned by some greater passion. If my dream were indeed true, if the voice were not a mockery, Ruth was not yet married, and she loved me. For hours I lived in blissful ecstasy, the smooth waters were written all over with messages of joy, the sky seemed full of the angels of God.

Then I became possessed of a feverish anxiety to return home. I must not lose a minute, but great difficulties lay in the way. I was thousands of miles from England, and there were no civilised ports we dared enter. Piracy on the high seas is a crime, and so there would be great difficulty in landing at any port from which I could sail for home. But the difficulty must be managed somehow. Ruth wanted me, and I would go home.

I must speak to the captain at once, he could sympathise with me; he would help me.

Then I saw a streak of gold shoot across the waters, and soon the sea was flooded with glory. The king of day rose, triumphant, grand. The night was over, and I felt the light of day in my heart.

I turned to the gangway and saw the captain wistfully watching the glowing sea.

Without hesitation I went to him, and began my story.