Volume One—Chapter Twenty Seven.
Ann.
I had been much interested in Stormy’s story of his early life; and the next evening, I went over to his tent, and taking a seat upon the ground, requested him to continue it.
“All right, Rowley, my boy,” said he, in answer to my appeal. “I believe that I left off last night, where the girl, after my having worked nine years for her, had begun to treat me with coldness.
“Well, on becoming sure of this, I determined to find out the reason. I knew there must be something wrong; and I made up my mind to find out what it was—though it might lead to the breaking up of all my fine prospects. One day, when my ship was about to start on a new trip to Charleston, I settled scores with the captain, and left her. Ann was under the belief, that I had gone off in the vessel; but she was mistaken. I had stopped behind, to keep an eye on herself. A few months before, I had given her some money—to enable her to go into partnership with a widow, in keeping a little stationery and toy shop—and she was now in that business. My scheme was to keep an eye on the shop; and see what was going on. I had not been very long playing spy, before I found out the lay of the land. A young fellow of a swellish appearance, used to pay visits to the shop, nearly every day of the week. He came in the evening; and Ann would go out with him to theatres and dancing places.
“I watched the fellow to his home, or to his lodgings—for he lived in a two-pair back; and from there I tracked him to his place of business. I found that he was what in London is called a ‘clerk.’ He was a thing unworthy of Ann; but, of course, that being the case, he did not know it; and I could see from his vain looks that he thought sufficiently of himself—too much to marry Ann. From what I saw, I had no doubt that he was deceiving her.
“I scarce knew what to do: for there was no use in telling the girl that she was being deceived. She would not have believed me.
“If she had believed me, and given the puppy up, it would not have made much difference to me. My confidence in her was gone. I could have had it no more. She had acted ungrateful to me—by giving her preference to a conceited swell—who took her about to places of amusement, where men do not take young girls, whom they intend afterwards to marry. Ann had proved herself unworthy of a love like mine. I had toiled for her, and loved her, for nine long years; and this was the return.
“My good resolutions all forsook me—by the shock which her ingratitude gave me; and ever since that time, I’ve been only Stormy Jack, and nothing more. You know what he is.” Stormy once more relapsed into silence, as if his story had been concluded. More deeply interested than ever, I desired to know more. In answer, to my request, he resumed his narrative.
“Well,” continued he. “My next voyage was a long one. I made the trip to India, and was gone fourteen months; but on my return, at the end of that time, I had not forgotten Ann. I still loved her—although I knew that she could never be my wife. Even had she consented, my pride would not allow of my marrying her now.
“When I got back from India, I went to the little shop to enquire for her. She was no longer there. I found her in the work-house—the same from which she had been taken when a child. She was the mother of a child, seven months old; and had never been married. I determined to teach her manners. You may think it strange, Rowley, but I was now, more than ever, resolved she should love me. It would be some satisfaction for what I had suffered on her account. I knew my motive wasn’t altogether as it ought to have been, but I could not help doing as I did.
“When paid the wages, owing me by the East Indiaman, I had about twenty-five pounds to the good; and, with this money, I took Ann out of the work-house, and placed her in a comfortable home. I acted, to all appearance, as kindly to her, and seemed as affectionate as I had ever been; and I even gave her more of my company than I had ever done before. When she came to contrast my conduct with that of the heartless villain who had ruined and deserted her, she could not help loving me. On her knees, and with tears in her eyes, she confessed her folly, and sorrow for the past; and prayed for me to forgive her.
“‘Of course, I forgive you, Ann,’ said I, ‘or I would not have returned to you.’
“‘And will you love me as much as you once did?’ she then asked.
“‘Certainly I will.’
“‘John,’ she said, ‘you are the most noble-minded man in the world; and I only begin to know your real worth. Oh! what a fool I have been, not to have known it before! You are better than all other men on the earth!’
“Ann had got over the folly of her girlhood. The sorrows which she had suffered during the last few months, had taught her wisdom, and brought repentance; and she now believed, that such love as I had offered her was of some value.
“I visited her every day; and appeared to take such an interest in the welfare, both of herself and her child, that I, at length, became certain that she loved me. She could not have helped it, had she tried. Poor girl! she fancied she was going to be happy again; but she was mistaken.
“When my money was all spent, I prepared to take leave of her. Before going, I told her the truth, that I had loved her, ever since she was a child; and that I ever would; but that I could never make her my wife. After what had transpired, I could never be happy as her husband.
“‘I shall never forget you, Ann,’ said I. ‘Whenever I have a pound in my pocket, you are welcome to fifteen shillings of it; but my happiness, for this world, you have entirely destroyed; and I can never marry you, as I once intended to do. You know the many years that I toiled for you; and was that not proof that I loved you dearly? All that I have done, I am willing to do again; but what I had hoped to do, is no longer possible. You have not proved worthy of my love, and can never be my wife.’
“As I said this, she was nearly distracted; and declared that she would never accept another shilling from me. She promised to do for me all that I had done for her: to work for me, and let me live in idleness. I had at last succeeded in winning her love.
“Perhaps I was wrong in having done so; but the manner in which I had been myself wronged, rendered me incapable of acting honest. I could not help taking this way to larn her a little manners. There was another I intended larning a lesson to, before I left London; but I determined to teach him in a very different way. It was the swell that had ruined Ann.
“I looked out for him; and found him in the street, on the way to his place of business. I laid one o’ my flippers on his shoulder, to keep him from escaping, while I gave him his lesson with the other. I flattened his nose, nearly tore off one of his ears; and did him some other damage besides. The police pulled me off o’ him; and I was taken away to the station, and next day brought before a magistrate.
“I only got two months for giving the conceited snob his lesson, which I didn’t much regret, for I was just as well off in the gaol as anywhere else. My time or my liberty was worth nothing more to me. When again set free, I made another voyage to India, and got back in fourteen months.
“When I returned, Ann was dead. She had died in the same work-house, in which she was born.
“Since then, there has been no particular reason why I should behave myself; and I have been, as you see me, old Stormy Jack. I never again thought of getting married. I could only love but one; and that one it was not my fate to be spliced to. I suppose it was never intended I should get married. At all events, I don’t mean to try. I made one girl miserable by not marrying her; and I might make another miserable if I did.”
With this hypothetical reflection, Stormy concluded his sad story.