Chapter Twelve.
What I most thought of was obtaining from him, now that he was dying, the full truth as to the deaths of my father and mother.
Jackson remained so long in this state of stupor, I feared that he would die before I could interrogate him; but this, as it proved, was not to be the case. I waited another hour, very impatiently I must acknowledge, and then I went to him and asked him how he felt. He replied immediately, and without that difficulty which he appeared before to have experienced.
“I am better now—the inward bleeding has stopped; but still I cannot live—my side is broken in, I do not think there is a rib that is not fractured into pieces, and my spine is injured, for I cannot move or feel my legs; but I may live many hours yet, and I thank God for his mercy in allowing me so much time—short indeed to make reparation for so bad a life; but still nothing is impossible with God.”
“Well, then,” replied I, “if you can speak, I wish you would tell me the truth relative to my father’s death, and also about the death of others—as for my father, I know that you murdered him—for you said so last night in your sleep.”
After a pause, Jackson replied—“I am glad that I did, and that you have told me so—I wished to make a full confession even to you; for confession is a proof of repentance. I know that you must hate me, and will hate my memory, and I cannot be surprised at it; but look at me now, Frank, and ask your own heart whether I am not more an object of pity than of hatred. ‘Vengeance is mine, saith the Lord!’ and has not his vengeance fallen upon me even in this world? Look at me; here I am, separated from the world that I loved so much, with no chance of ever joining it—possessed of wealth which would but a few months ago have made me happy—now blind, crushed to pieces by an avenging God, in whose presence I must shortly appear to answer for all my wickedness—all my expectations overthrown, all my hopes destroyed, and all my accumulated sins procuring me nothing, but, it may be, eternal condemnation. I ask you again, am I not an object of pity and commiseration?”
I could but assent to this, and he proceeded.
“I will now tell you the truth. I did tell the truth up to the time of your father and mother’s embarkation on board of the brig, up to when the gale of wind came on which occasioned eventually the loss of the ship. Now give me a little drink.
“The vessel was so tossed by the storm, and the waves broke over her so continually, that the between-decks were full of water, and as the hatches were kept down, the heat was most oppressive. When it was not my watch, I remained below, and looked out for another berth to sleep in. Before the cabin bulkheads on the starboard side, the captain had fitted up a sort of sail-room to contain the spare sails in case we should require them. It was about eight feet square, and the sails were piled up in it, so as to reach within two feet of the deck overhead; though the lower ones were wetted with the water, above they were dry, and I took this berth on the top of the sails as my sleeping-place. Now the state-room in which your father and mother slept was on the other side of the cabin bulkhead, and the straining and rolling of the vessel had opened the chinks between the planks, so that I could see a great deal of what was done in the state-room, and could hear every word almost that was spoken by them. I was not aware of this when I selected this place as my berth, but I found it out on the first night, the light of the candle shining through the chinks into the darkness by which I was surrounded outside. Of course, it is when a man is alone with his wife that he talks on confidential subjects; that I knew well, and hoped by listening to be able to make some discovery;—what, I had no idea of; but, with the bad feelings which stimulated me, I determined not to lose an opportunity. It was not till about a week after I had selected this berth, that I made any discovery. I had had the watch from six to eight o’clock, and had gone to bed early. About nine o’clock your father came into the state-room. Your mother was already in bed. As your father undressed, your mother said, ‘Does not that belt worry you a great deal, my dear?’
“‘No,’ replied your father, ‘I am used to it now; it did when I first put it on, but now I have had it on four days, I do not feel it. I shall keep it on as long as this weather lasts; there is no saying what may happen, and it will not do to be looking for the belt at a moment’s warning.’
“‘Do you think then that we are in danger?’
“‘No, not particularly so, but the storm is very fierce, and the vessel is old and weak. We may have fine weather in a day or two, or we may not; at all events, when property of value is at stake, and that property not my own, I should feel myself very culpable, if I did not take every precaution.’
“‘Well—I wish we were safe home again, my dear, and that my father had his diamonds, but we are in the hands of God.’
“‘Yes, I must trust to Him,’ replied your father.
“This circumstance induced me to look through one of the chinks of the bulkhead, so that I could see your father, and I perceived that he was unbuckling a belt which was round his body, and which no doubt contained the diamonds referred to. It was of soft leather, and about eight inches wide, sewed lengthways and breadthways in small squares, in which, I presumed the diamonds were deposited. After a time your mother spoke again.
“‘I really think, Henniker, that I ought to wear the belt.’
“‘Why so, my dear?’
“‘Because it might be the means of my preservation in case of accident. Suppose, now, we were obliged to abandon the vessel and take to the boats; a husband, in his hurry, might forget his wife, but he would not forget his diamonds. If I wore the belt, you would be certain to put me in the boat.’
“‘That observation of yours would have force with some husbands, and some wives,’ retorted your father; ‘but as I have a firm belief in the Scriptures, it does not affect me. What do the Proverbs say? “The price of a virtuous woman is far above rubies;” and a good ruby is worth even more in the market than a diamond of the same size.’
“‘Well, I must comfort myself with that idea,’ replied your mother, laughing.
“‘Supposing we be thrown upon some out-of-the-way place,’ said your father, ‘I shall then commit the belt to your charge. It might soon be discovered on my person, whereas, on yours, it would stand every chance of being long concealed. I say this because, even in a desert, it would be dangerous to have it known by unscrupulous and unprincipled men that any one had so much wealth about him.’
“‘Well,’ replied your mother, ‘that is also comfortable for me to hear, for you will not leave me behind, because I shall be necessary to conceal your treasure.’
“‘Yes,’ replied your father, laughing, ‘there is another chance for you, you see.’
“Your father then extinguished the light, and the conversation was not renewed; but I had heard enough. Your father carried a great treasure about his person—wealth, I took it for granted, that if I once could obtain, and return to England, would save me from my present position. My avarice was hereby excited, and thus another passion equally powerful, and equally inciting to evil deeds, was added to the hate which I already had imbibed for your father. But I must leave off now.”
Jackson drank a little more, and then remained quiet, and as I had no food that day, I took the opportunity of returning to the cabin, with the promise that I would be back very soon. In half an hour I returned, bringing with me the Bible and Prayer-book, as I thought that he would ask me to read to him after he had made his confession. I found him breathing heavily, and apparently asleep, so I did not wake him. As I looked at him, and recalled to mind his words, “Am not I an object of pity?” I confessed that he was, and then I asked myself the question, Can you forgive him who was the murderer of your father? After some reflection, I thought that I could. Was he not already punished? Had not the murder been already avenged? It was not possible to retain animosity against one so stricken, so broken to pieces, and my heart smote me when I looked at his disabled hand, and felt that I, boy as I was, had had a share in his marring. At last, he spoke.
“Are you there, Frank?”
“Yes,” replied I.
“I have had a little sleep,” said he.
“Do you feel easier?” inquired I, kindly.
“Yes, I feel my side more numbed, and so it will remain, till mortification takes place. But let me finish my confession, I wish to relieve my mind; not that I shall die to-night, or perhaps to-morrow, but still, I wish it over. Come nearer to me, that I may speak in a lower voice, and then I shall be able to speak longer.”
I did so, and he proceeded.
“You know how we were cast upon this island, and how I behaved at first. When I afterwards took my place with the others, my evil thoughts gradually quitted me, and I gave, up all idea of any injury to your father. But this did not last long. The deaths of so many, and at last the captain, your father, and your mother being the only ones left on the island besides myself, once more excited my cupidity. I thought again of the belt of diamonds, and by what means I should gain possession of it; and the devil suggested to me the murders of the captain and of your father. I had ascertained that your father no longer carried the belt on his person when we all used to bathe at the bathing-pool; it was, therefore, as your father had proposed, in your mother’s keeping. Having once made up my mind, I watched every opportunity to put my intentions into execution. It was the custom for one of us to fish every morning, as your mother would not eat the dried birds, if fish could be procured, and I considered that the only chance I had of executing my horrible wish was when your father went to fish off the rocks. We usually did so off the ledge of rocks which divide the bathing-pool from the sea, but I found out another place, where more fish, and of a better quality, were to be taken, which is off the high wall of rocks just below. You know where I mean, I have often sent you to fish there, but I never could go myself since your father’s death. Your father took his lines there, and was hauling in a large fish, when I, who had concealed myself close to where he stood, watched the opportunity as he looked over the rock to see if the fish was clear of the water, to come behind him and throw him off into the sea. He could not swim, I knew, and after waiting a minute or two, I looked over and saw his body, just as it sank, after his last struggles. I then hastened away, and my guilty conscience induced me to ascend the ravine, and collect a faggot of firewood to bring home, that no suspicions might be entertained; but my so doing was the very cause of suspicion, as you will afterwards perceive. I returned with the wood, and the captain observed, when I came up to the cabin:—
“‘Why, it’s something new for you to collect wood out of your turn, Jackson. Wonders will never cease.’
“‘The fact is, that I am becoming very amiable,’ replied I, hardly knowing what to say, and afraid to look either of them in the face, for your mother, with you on her lap, was standing close by.
“‘Has my husband caught any fish, do you know, Jackson?’ said your mother, ‘for it is high time that he came home.’
“‘How can I tell?’ replied I. ‘I have been up the ravine for wood.’
“‘But you were down on the rock two hours ago,’ replied your mother, ‘for Captain James saw you coming away.’
“‘That I certainly did,’ replied the captain. ‘Had he caught any fish when you were with him?’
“They must have perceived my confusion when I said, ‘Yes, I was on the rocks, but I never went near Henniker, that I’ll swear.’
“‘You must have been near him, even when I saw you,’ replied the captain.
“‘I never looked at him, if I was,’ replied I.
“‘Well then, one of us had better go down and see what he is about,’ said the captain. ‘Shall I leave Jackson with you?’
“‘Yes, yes,’ replied your mother, much agitated, ‘for I have my forebodings; better leave him here.’
“The captain hastened down to the rocks, and in a quarter of an hour returned very much heated, saying, ‘He is not there!’
“‘Not there?’ replied I, getting up, for I had seated myself in silence on the rock during the captain’s absence: ‘that’s very odd.’
“‘It is,’ replied the captain. ‘Jackson, go and try if you see anything of him, while I attend to Mrs Henniker.’
“Your mother, on the captain’s return, had bowed her head down to her knees, and covered her face with her hands. I was glad of an excuse to be away, for my heart smote me as I witnessed her condition.
“I remained away half an hour, and then returned, saying, that I could see nothing of your father.
“Your mother was in the cabin, and the captain went in to her, while I remained outside with all the feelings of Cain upon my brow.
“That was a dreadful day for all parties—no food was taken. Your mother and the captain remained in the cabin, and I dared not, as usual, go into my own bed-place. I lay all night upon the rocks—sleep I could not; every moment I saw your father’s body sinking, as I had seen it in the morning. The next morning, the captain came out to me. He was very grave and stern, but he could not accuse me, whatever his suspicions might have been. It was a week before I saw your mother again, for I dared not intrude into her presence; but, finding there was no accusation against me, I recovered my spirits, and returned to the cabin, and things went on as before.”