Tom Wallis: A Tale of the South Seas

'Yes, it was his voice. Stay here; I will bring him to you.'

He sprang up the companion way. Casalle, with Nita's hand held tightly in his own, was waiting. They went below.

And as Wallis passed by the open skylight to join Tom and Jack, he heard the woman's voice-

'Ramon! Ramon! My husband, my husband! My child, my child!'

CHAPTER XIX

OUTWARD BOUND

Once more the white Malolo lay under Garden Island in fair Sydney Harbour, with but three hands aboard to keep anchor watch, for there were great doings at Mr. Biffen's house, which was lit up below and aloft, and every hand who could be spared had gone ashore.

Two months had come and gone since the Adventurer and Malolo parted company off the verdured hills of Fotuna Island, with cheer after cheer from the crews, as the barque headed north-westward for the whaling grounds, and the schooner stood southward for Sydney.

In the grounds of the merchant's house, which overlooked the Harbour, Mr. Wallis was entertaining not only the crew of the Malolo, but that of the Lady Alicia as well, for in the morning there had been a wedding-Mr. William Henry Chester to Miss Solepa Tuisila. The ceremony had been attended with what Mr. Brooker called 'tremendous fixins,' Mr. Wallis giving the bride away, and Captain Samuel Hawkins acting as best man to 'William Henry.' Among the guests, too, were old Foster and Kate Gorman, who had come up to Sydney in the asthmatic old 'Puffing Billy' to see Tom-only to bid him farewell again, for he was not returning to Port Kooringa with his father and Jack. He had won his father's consent, and was bound to Samoa in the Malolo as supercargo-much to the delight of Maori Bill, who, to old Sam's sorrow, was also leaving in the schooner, to become overseer on Captain Casalle's station at Leone Bay. Charlie also had shipped on the Malolo, declaring that wherever Tom and Bill went he would go too.

Upstairs, as red-haired, true-hearted Kate Gorman was clasping little Nita to her ample bosom for the last time, and with fast-falling tears singing her to sleep, as she had so often done before in the old house at Port Kooringa, when her heart was almost breaking for Tom, the 'babby that was her own darlin',' Tom himself came in.

'What, crying, Kate, old woman!' and he patted her cheeks with his rough brown hands; 'come, don't cut up so. You'll see Nita again in less than a year, for when we return we are coming to Port Kooringa in the Malolo herself. Now put Nita to bed and come down-stairs; we all want you, father and Jack, and Captain Casalle, and his brother, and Mrs. Casalle, and everybody.'

Kate dried her tears. 'Shure I'll come, av it's only to kape that silly ould man Foster quiet. It's dhrinkin' too much he is I'm shure.'

Old Sam, whose face was redder than ever, was making a speech embracing a variety of subjects, from the good looks and faithful services of the bride to the bridegroom's abilities as a pugilist and a seaman, the remarkable career of the Lady Alicia, and something about a fight he had had when he was a boy at school, all of which were interspersed with sage reflections on the ways of Providence in bringing together husband and wife, and brother and brother, and father and son, and indefinite allusions to an Indian juggler he once saw at Rangoon. Then, turning to Tom, who sat beside him, he clapped him on the shoulder, and brought his speech to a conclusion in these words:

'And I'm sure Tom my boy that you have the makings of a good sailor in you and that Captain Casalle will find it out in the same luminous manner as me and poor Mr. Collier did not forgetting Mr. de Cann who also remarked on your inset proclivities which is only right and proper in a boy of British blood to whom salt water is his natural substance meaning no disrespect to your brother Jack here who tells me he feels more at home with a horse to which I am addicted myself if he is towing a cart or other vesicule and may you have all the good luck in the world ashore or elsewhere and in any position and old Sam Hawkins knows you won't do anything that isn't fair square ship-shape and Bristol fashion. To you also Mrs. Casalle I drink your health with the same sentiments as those here set down and here's success to the Malolo and her captain and officers and crew including the bride. William Henry you've deserted me but you done it for a profound object which I admire secretly for if her skin is dark her heart is true blue. Good luck go with you William and I hope you'll be a good wife to him miss for you won't get another like him no matter how precarious you may be positioned as a widow which I trust may not occur to you under present circumstances.'

Vociferous applause from the Malolos and Lady Alicias, during which Maori Bill, having been informed by Jack that he must respond to the toast of the bride's health, promptly declined, and immediately went on board and turned in, leaving the bride to fulfil her duties of nurse to little Nita.

* * * * *

Again the merry clink of the windlass pawls, as the Malolo's anchor comes underfoot to the rousing chanty of 'Outward Bound.' On the after-deck are gathered Mr. Wallis, Jack, Foster, Kate Gorman, and old Sam, the latter resplendent in his frock coat, shiny bell-topper, and lavender kid gloves. They have all come to say farewell to Tom and the Casalles-a farewell that has in it no touch of sadness, but is full of bright hopes for the future.

The topsails are sheeted home, the tug steams ahead and tautens the tow-line, and the beautiful schooner begins to move.

One parting hand-grasp all round, and the shore party go down the gangway into the Customs launch. Mrs. Casalle and Solepa come to the side, and Tom, seizing little Nita in his arms, carries her halfway up the mizzen rigging, so that she may see the very last of Jack and his father and Kate; and then, at a signal from Mr. Brooker, the crew, led by Henry Casalle, come rushing aft and give three parting cheers.

And so, with the bright morning sun shining on her snowy canvas, the Malolo heads eastward to the open sea, and Tom Wallis has his heart's desire at last.

THE END

notes

1

This was the actual condition of affairs in Samoa at the time.

2

Note by the author. – This school primer of which Harvey speaks was actually circulated in the South Seas by the Roman Catholic missionaries. It was printed in Marseilles, but other editions were issued from Sydney in 1866 or 1867.

3

Food.

4

The Union, Ellice, and Gilbert Islands are now generally termed Tokelau by the inhabitants of the eastern islands of Polynesia. Formerly, however, only the low-lying islands of the Union Group were meant by the term.

5

Hurricane.

6

'Good, good! Your heart is glad, dear mistress!'

7

'Fiji women disgust me, they are so ugly.'

8

White lady.