It required both nerve and presence of mind, as well as bodily strength to support herself in this position only for a few minutes. She gradually drew the child nearer to her, and though in great danger herself, her first words to him were, “Don’t be afraid, Master Henry; I have got you! Keep still! keep still! don’t struggle!”
The gardener and the coachman had by this time arrived with the ladder and a rope, they let it down from the arm of the tree, resting the upper stave just against its branches. The gardener descended a few steps, and Margaret gave him the child, whilst she herself remained with the boughs in her hand, until the boy was safe. She then requested them to throw her the rope, that she might leave go of the willow and be drawn to the side of the pond. She put the rope round her waist and took hold of it, doubled, with both hands, and in this way was dragged through the water to the bank.
Thus was Margaret Catchpole, for the third time, the providential instrument in preserving the life of a member of Mr. Cobbold’s family. It will not, then, be a matter of surprise, that the records of her life should have been so strictly preserved among them. If there had been any former coolness or misunderstanding between her and any of the domestics of the family, this event completely reconciled all differences. It was felt by one and all, that a woman who could risk her life to save another’s, in this manner, was worthy of their united respect. She was, at this time, at the very summit of her reputation. A few days more brought the news of that celebrated victory over the French fleet, which added so much to the naval glory of Old England. In that victory more than one Ipswich man partook, and returned to speak of the engagement. One poor fellow, in particular, was sent home, desperately wounded, who, for many years, became an object of respect, as well as charitable attention, to many families in the town and neighbourhood. This was poor old Jack, whose friends kept the Salutation public-house, in Carr Street, who always went by the name of “What Cheer?” When he first returned to his aunt, the landlady of the house, he had his senses perfect, and could speak of the engagement with such clearness and precision as delighted the seamen who frequented the house. He was on board the same ship as Will Laud, and on the 1st of June they fought side by side.
Margaret heard of this, and used to go down to the public-house in question, to hear from Jack all she could of one who was as dear to her as her own life. He was desired by Laud to tell Margaret that he was coming home with plenty of prize-money as soon as he could obtain his discharge. It was this which gave her spirit such joy, and made her so anxious to hear all she could of the battle; and, of course, of that part which her lover took in it. Poor Jack’s intellects, however, from the severity of his wounds, and consequent attack of fever, became irretrievably impaired; and though he recovered his health, and became a constant visitor at St. Margaret’s Green, yet he never could afterwards give any connected account of the battle.
[CHAPTER XIX
THE ALTERATION]
We left our heroine, in the last chapter, esteemed of every one who knew her, and looking forward to what was to her the height of human felicity—the reformation and return of her sailor-lover. No less true than strange is the fact, that when we reach the highest pinnacle of this world’s happiness, some giddiness of the head is apt to make us fall. So, at all events, it proved with the female who gives a title to this book. It became matter of deep concern to every member of Mr. Cobbold’s family, to behold in her an alteration which no previous circumstances in her life had prepared them for. There was nothing in reason, and consistent with their own happiness, that her grateful master and mistress would not have granted her. Any situation she wished to attain, either for herself or for her friends, would have commanded every exertion they could have made in her favour. She stood so high in their opinion, and in every one’s else who knew her, that it scarcely seemed possible for her to forfeit it. Apparently she had nothing to complain of; no cause for dissatisfaction; no inducement whatever to alter her disposition. Yet an alteration did take place, and one which became evident to every one.
Where the heart is unsettled, things seldom go on well. There wants that peace and security which can alone make the discharge of our daily duties a daily pleasure. Margaret’s early impressions of religion had been of a very desultory kind, and here was the root of all the evil that afterwards befell her. The want of fixed religious principles early instilled into the young mind has caused many a good disposition to give way to those changes and chances which happen in life, and to create an alteration even in the brightest prospects. In the earliest days of this child of nature, an innate humanity of disposition had been cultivated and increased by her attendance on a sick and afflicted sister and an aged mother, both of whom had constantly required her aid. Her natural qualities were, as the reader has seen, up to this moment of the noblest cast. Still, in the absence of any strong religious sentiment, the best dispositions are at the mercy of violent passions, and are subject to the most dangerous caprices. The reader must have observed that, in the midst of all her good qualities, Margaret Catchpole evinced a pertinacity of attachment to the object of her affections, even in his most unworthy days—an attachment which no circumstances whatever, not even the warning of her sister’s death-bed, could shake. She had built upon a vague hope of Laud’s alteration of life, and his settlement in some quiet occupation. She had been accustomed to very great disappointments and vexations; and, with a spirit above her years, she had borne them all, and had shown an energy of mind and activity worthy of better things. How weak are all qualities without the support of religion! At a time when promises seemed most fair, when an unexpected reconciliation had taken place with her uncle and aunt Leader, when Laud’s return was daily expected, and all the favours of a generous family were heaped upon her for her good conduct,—at such a time an alteration of her disposition took place, which embittered her existence for many years. She became peevish and irritable, discontented and unhappy, moody and melancholy. She thanked nobody for assistance, asked nothing of any one, and gave no reason to any of her fellow-servants for this sudden alteration. Such would not have been the case, had religion taught her, as it now does many in her station of life, how to feel supported in prosperity as well as in adversity. It is a trite saying, that “we seldom know when we are well off.” We are not content to “let well alone;" but too often foolishly speculate upon the future, and fall into some present snare.
Nothing had been heard of or from Laud, except that a sailor, who had served with him in the glorious battle of the 1st of June, had visited the town, and told Margaret that Laud was appointed to come home in one of the prizes taken by Lord Howe; and that, probably, he was then at Portsmouth, waiting until he should receive his prize-money and his discharge. Margaret occasionally stole down in the evening to the Salutation public-house, where the sailor was staying, to speak with him, and to hear the naval news. She was here occasionally seen by other sailors, who frequented the house, and learned where she lived. They understood the bearings of her history, and some of them used to fabricate tales on purpose to get an introduction into the kitchen at St. Margaret’s Green, where they were sure to be welcomed and well treated by Margaret. She was, at this time, very anxious to hear tidings of her lover, and day after day exhibited symptoms of restlessness, which could not long be passed by without notice. The frequency of sailors’ visits to the kitchen began to be rumoured through the house, and stories injurious to the reputations of the inmates were circulated in the neighbourhood. Moreover, the housekeeper missed various articles; and meat, and bread, and stores, began to be unaccountably diminished. Inquiries were instituted, and it was found that Margaret had certainly given such and such things to sailors; and without doubt, some things were stolen.