Erema | Page 6

willing! Oh, Suan, run and tell him not to
lose one moment."
"No sure; Suan no sure at all," she answered, looking at me calmly, as
if there were centuries yet to spare. "Suan no hurry; shild no hurry;
master no hurry: come last of all."
"I tell you, Suan, I want to see him. And I am not accustomed to be
kept waiting. My dear father insisted always--But oh, Suan, Suan, he is
dead--I am almost sure of it."
"Him old man quite dead enough, and big hole dug in the land for him.
Very good; more good than could be. Suan no more Inglese."
Well as I had known it long, a catching of the breath and hollow,
helpless pain came through me, to meet in dry words thus the dread
which might have been but a hovering dream. I turned my face to the
wall, and begged her not to send the master in.
But presently a large, firm hand was laid on my shoulder softly, and
turning sharply round, I beheld an elderly man looking down at me. His
face was plain and square and solid, with short white curls on a rugged
forehead, and fresh red cheeks, and a triple chin--fit base for
remarkably massive jaws. His frame was in keeping with his face,
being very large and powerful, though not of my father's commanding

height. His dress and appearance were those of a working--and a really
hard-working--man, sober, steadfast, and self-respecting; but what
engaged my attention most was the frank yet shrewd gaze of deep-set
eyes. I speak of things as I observed them later, for I could not pay
much heed just then.
"'Tis a poor little missy," he said, with a gentle tone. "What things she
hath been through! Will you take an old man's hand, my dear? Your
father hath often taken it, though different from his rank of life.
Sampson Gundry is my name, missy. Have you ever heard your father
tell of it?"
"Many and many a time," I said, as I placed my hot little hand in his.
"He never found more than one man true on earth, and it was you, Sir."
"Come, now," he replied, with his eyes for a moment sparkling at my
warmth of words; "you must not have that in your young head, missy.
It leads to a miserable life. Your father hath always been unlucky--the
most unlucky that ever I did know. And luck cometh out in nothing
clearer than in the kind of folk we meet. But the Lord in heaven
ordereth all. I speak like a poor heathen."
"Oh, never mind that!" I cried: "only tell me, were you in time to
save--to save--" I could not bear to say what I wanted.
"In plenty of time, my dear; thanks to you. You must have fought when
you could not fight: the real stuff, I call it. Your poor father lies where
none can harm him. Come, missy, missy, you must not take on so. It is
the best thing that could befall a man so bound up with calamity. It is
what he hath prayed for for many a year--if only it were not for you.
And now you are safe, and for sure he knows it, if the angels heed their
business."
With these words he withdrew, and kindly sent Suan back to me,
knowing that her soothing ways would help me more than argument.
To my mind all things lay in deep confusion and abasement. Overcome
with bodily weakness and with bitter self-reproach, I even feared that to
ask any questions might show want of gratitude. But a thing of that sort

could not always last, and before very long I was quite at home with
the history of Mr. Gundry.
Solomon Gundry, of Mevagissey, in the county of Cornwall, in
England, betook himself to the United States in the last year of the last
century. He had always been a most upright man, as well as a first-rate
fisherman; and his family had made a rule--as most respectable families
at that time did--to run a nice cargo of contraband goods not more than
twice in one season. A highly querulous old lieutenant of the British
navy (who had served under Nelson and lost both, arms, yet kept "the
rheumatics" in either stump) was appointed, in an evil hour, to the
Cornish coast-guard; and he never rested until he had caught all the
best county families smuggling. Through this he lost his situation, and
had to go to the workhouse; nevertheless, such a stir had been roused
that (to satisfy public opinion) they made a large sacrifice of inferior
people, and among them this Solomon Gundry. Now the Gundries had
long been a thickset race, and had furnished some