"H'm! I had rather not say," replied Federigo, obviously relieved, but with a peculiar smile, as if his fancy was ranging not without enjoyment through the region of possibilities. "She scalded a monkey once, that had bitten her, slowly to death with boiling-water. But her ingenuity was endless."
Salvé felt a shudder run through him, and something in his face told the other that he had better not indulge his fancy any further; and he hastened, therefore, to add half in joke and half by way of consolation—
"Poor Antonio Varez will pay for her having been obliged to marry him, never fear. Yes, she is rich and happy," he concluded with a sigh, as if he envied her; and the subject dropped.
CHAPTER XVII.
They doubled Cape Horn, and came to Valparaiso. But, on the morning they were to enter the harbour, Salvé, to his intense exasperation, was put under arrest. The captain found him too useful in keeping the crew in order forward, and therefore took the most effectual means of preventing him from putting into execution his declared determination to leave the ship on their arrival at that port.
After leaving Valparaiso they called at the Chincha Islands, took in a cargo of guano for China, and shaped their course then eastward across the calm southern ocean, whose lonely monotony was only broken by the occasional appearance of one of the larger kind of sea-birds, or by the distant spouting of a whale. On board, however, the same peace was far from prevailing. That little nut-shell that crept like a dot across the limitless expanse of waters was a little floating hell, where every evil passion raged from morning until night; and it was only by secretly fomenting discord and divisions among the crew that the officers could sleep with any sense of security in their berths. As it was, a large section of them, with the Irishman at their head, had a project on hand for murdering their officers, and converting the ship into a whaling vessel. And even Salvé, in moments of bitterness and indignation at the tyranny to which he was subjected by these men, whose lives were at the mercy of the crew, would sometimes entertain the thought of joining with the mutineers, who were restrained from carrying out their designs mainly by the fear which he had inspired, and by the refusal of his sanction. Many a desperate struggle with himself he went through when one of his tyrants passed him on deck in the dark, and the temptation to stick a knife into his back would rise strong within him, and almost master him. The other's life hung upon a hair, and Salvé knew it; but that hair was stronger than he thought. Elizabeth's face, and the still unexhausted might of early impressions, made him always shrink from the thought of having a murder on his conscience, and to that depth he never fell, deteriorated though his character gradually became, from daily association with everything that was vile, to that degree that he lost all power of believing in the existence of good amongst his fellow-creatures, or in a higher Power.
We need follow no further this dark period of his life. After a year and a half on board the Stars and Stripes, and many a wild scene of turbulence and riot, he brought his connection with her to a close at last at New Orleans, where the accumulation of his wages was handed over to him.
The life on board the other vessels in which he afterwards served did not differ greatly from that which he had left; but he had become accustomed to it, and his sensibilities were blunted by long habit. It was not until some four years had thus passed that he again began to feel a longing for Europe—he would not acknowledge to himself that it was Norway exactly that he wanted to see again;—and after looking out then for some time for a suitable ship for the home voyage, he found himself at last with his Brazilian friend on board a large barque that was homeward bound from Curaçoa, with tobacco and rum, for Rotterdam and Nieuwediep.
Federigo had been his inseparable companion through all the vicissitudes of his southern life; the secret of his faithful attachment, as Salvé suspected, being that the latter had saved money, which he had turned into gold pieces and kept in a belt round his waist. He had never, like Federigo, sought occasions to squander his pay on land in gambling or in other diversions. He hated women; and in the taverns which were frequented by sailors he was looked upon as a dangerous customer, to whom it was prudent to give as wide a berth as possible. Federigo, he fancied, looked upon him as his reserve cash-box; and when on one occasion, after they came into port, the Brazilian proposed that they should desert and put their money into some mines that were very favourably reported of just then, and share the profits, Salvé remarked with perfect composure that he thought it highly probable that if they started upon any expedition of the kind, his friend, if he got him alone some fine night in a lonely place, would quietly stick his knife into him and make off with the whole. He therefore declined the proposition, but their relations nevertheless continued as friendly as before. Money was the only power, Salvé reflected with bitterness, and this satisfaction at least he could now enjoy in life.
It had become so obvious to him that Federigo's attachment was more to his money than to himself, that he determined to get rid of his irksome attentions. Accordingly, when they arrived at Nieuwediep, he made all his arrangements for leaving the vessel, legally this time, without saying a word to him of his intention; and Federigo only heard of it at the last moment when he met him coming up with his hammock clothes. He turned pale, and tears came into his eyes,—whether from a feeling of injured friendship, or from disappointment, Salvé could not quite make out. The expression of his face, with his restless small black eyes, resembled that of a disturbed rat. At last he fell on Salvé's neck in his impetuous way, and broke out—