m THE REAL ADVENTURES OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. J licnl OF ROBINSON CRUSOE BY F. C. BURNAND, AUTHOR OF " THE NBW HISTORY OF SANDFORD AND MERTON, " HAPPY THOUGHTS." ETC., ETC. With Fifty-six Illustrations by LINLEY SAMBOURNE. LONDON: BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., 8, 9, ro, BOUVERIE STREET, E.C. 1893. LONDON : BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, WHITEFR1ARS. TO ALL FOR WHOM TRUTH HAS CHARMS GREATER THAN FICTION THIS RECORD OF A SHORT BUT NOT UNEVENTFUL CAREER IS THE REAL ROBINSON. 2049884 CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION. PAGE SETTING FORTH THE " WHY " AND THE "WHEREFORE," ALSO THE "HOW" AND THE "WHEN," WHICH IT IS HOPED THE READER MAY CONSIDER AS BEING OF AN EMINENTLY SATISFACTORY CHARACTER . . " 1 CHAPTER I. THE ROBINSON RECORD HIS PARENTS DE MORTUIS NIL NISI BONUM 13 CHAPTER II. EARLY IMPULSES . . . 2O MAKING A NAME CHAPTER III. 23 DEVELOPING CHAPTER IV. CHAPTER V. A CRISIS FOR CRUSOE . viii Content** CHAPTER VI. FACE A NEW DEPARTURE . . . . . . 5 1 INTERMEZZO . . . 59 CHAPTER VII. ON BOARD . . . 62 CHAPTER VIII. THE CAPTAIN'S WILL . . . . . . . . 66 CHAPTER IX. THE REAL CRUISE O . . . . . . . -71 CHAPTER X. SARA GOSSA . . 8l CHAPTER XI. A BUSINESS DINNER 86 INTERMEZZO .- . 94 CHAPTER XII. ON SAIL OR RETURN? 98 Contents. ix CHAPTER XIII. PAGE I SAIL WITH THE GALE . . . . ' . . . 107 CHAPTER XIV. THE TRUTH ABOUT THE ISLAND 115 CHAPTER XV. MORE TRUTH 126 CHAPTER XVI. ISLAND DIARY CONTINUED 135 CHAPTER XVII. AN AWFUL TIME 143 CHAPTER XVIII. LEVEE OF BLACK MAIL 151 CHAPTER XIX " AM I NOT A MAN AND A BROTHER ? " . . . . 1 56 CHAPTER XX. ROBINSON, ATKINS, & CO 165 CHAPTER XXI. CONFIDENCES IJl x Contents;* CHAPTER XXII. PAGE A HAPPY RETURN . . . . . . . .177 CHAPTER XXIII. TREASURE RE-TROVE : . . 187 CHAPTER XXIV. WINDING UP AND STOPPING . 2OI LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. FACE HORRIBLE TAILS Frontispiece A Blank Page 12 A very Peculiar Man 13 "TA-RA-RA BOOM TO-DAY" To face 19 Little Billy 20 Adjusting the Balance . . . . . . . . 22 Billy in Disgrace 23 Making a Name . . . . . . . . . . 31 Robinson depressed 32 Robinson forges a Cheque 35 Afflicted with Toothache 36 Close-hauled 50 Speaker set free .51 "Polly" 58 A tearful object . 59 The other Robinson 61 Awaking ! . . . . . . . . . . .62 New White Gloves ' . . . . 65 The Skipper . . . . 66 iutt*trattott& PAGE Making the Captain's Will . 70 A Spanish belle 71 Jolly Jack Robinson 80 A whispered confidence . .81 "Two to one" To face 85 Taking in Supplies 86 Acting on Impulse 92 The Collaborator-in- chief . . 94 ' ' Heaven defend the right " 96 " Will Atkins " 98 Alone on Board ... 105 Scanning the Horizon .107 " I was knocked about :: . 114 " On a gigantic rock " 115 " That repose which only innocence unconscious knows." To face 125 The Fight for the Chicken 126 "A CAT-AND-DOG LIFE" ........ 131 Tent making .......... 135 " I took aim at the bird " 141 " Where are we now ?" 143 "Was I on the track of a Blackfoot Indian ? " 148 Arrowing Situation To face 150 " Spare my life," I cried 151 The Neck Step To face 154 "Oh, blow it!" 156 " I won small sums " 165 " I tumbled back on the straw : ' 170 of illtaeftratton*. PAGE By the Sad Sea Wave, or an Indian Notion . . .To face 1 70 " After Dark ! " . . . . . . ' . . . .171 Comfortable quarters . '.."' . . 1 76 "Arrayed in the best suit :? .. . . ...... 177 " I waited and waited " . ... . ( . . To face 186 " Over a pipe and a glass " . . ..... . . . 187 On an old sea-chest ......... 200 Nina and I . . . . . . . . . . 201 Finis ..... .... . . 214 OF ROBINSON CRUSOE. INTRODUCTION. SETTING FORTH THE "WHY" AND THE "WHEREFORE," ALSO THE " HOW " AND THE " WHEN," WHICH IT IS HOPED THE READER MAY CONSIDER AS BEING OF AN EMINENTLY SATISFACTORY CHARACTER. ,E live in the era of the Great Confidence Trick as illustrated by Reminiscences, Recollections, Confessions, Revelations from old Manuscripts, Rummaging in old State Papers, examinations of original documents, startling dis- coveries and still more astonishing disclosures. Now from the blackest characters, blackened or whitened by partisan prejudice, the overlaying coats of colour are gradually being scraped l)t &eal Sftbtnture* and some persons who, as it was popularly sup- posed, ought to have been hung instead of their portraits, are found to possess beautiful benign countenances, quite in keeping with the spotless record of their lives recently unearthed in the Dryasdust Department of the Pigeonhole Office. On the other hand, many whom in our early childhood we had been taught to admire as heroes, to reverence as teachers, and to love as models for our imitation, are now shown to us either as fabulous personages, the creations of Myths, or if they existed, the undeniable and undisputable evidence of their lives proves them to have been deserving the censure of all right-thinking persons and the execration of ages yet unborn. How these celebrities contrived to hoodwink their contemporaries is, to a certain extent, a puzzle, but it is not too much to say that the hypothesis of the Cryptogram will account for the otherwise inexplic- able silence which was purchased at the time by those arch impostors, to whom, one ray of light on the miserable secret of their lives meant utter, hopeless and instant ruin. of Hofttngon Crusoe, It is not astonishing, then, that the time should have arrived when the world, towards the close of this wonderfully inquisitive and in every sense remarkably curious nineteenth century, should discover that it had not yet heard the last word about Robinson Crusoe. Only in the interests of Truth would I venture to publish the extraor- dinary papers placed in my hands by the eminent firm whose names are appended to the first document, to which I now beg" to draw attention by including it in these prefatial remarks. The following extracts from the private diaries of " John Robbingson Crewso," originally thus spelt, speak for themselves. The date is 1720. We beg your closest attention to them : "April i. Book published to-day. Received with immense approval. Sale going on. My share will be big. Wish I could get rid of my Inkybiis. '''April 8. First rate. Book precisely suits the highly re- spectable and commercial public. Capital ! Always thought this style of autobiography would achieve success. It has. Why was I not alone in this ? What tyranny ! n 2 Sltobentures "May. Netted ^3000 clear. The book was an inspiration. Yet not happy. Inkybus. 11 July. Simply a fortune is this book. Invested, bought property. Money is not happiness: wealth is, though. Now what is the next idea ? To buy off my Inkybus ? What will he take f When money's a ' drug in the market! I wish he'd take THAT and remove himself" The allusions to the Inkybus, and to his evidently having been writing under compulsion, are mys- terious. I will not anticipate the solution, which will be found in the confessions of the True Robin- son. What his next idea was, will be gathered from further extracted entries in a diary dated the following year 1721. "Aug. The Respectable Robinson must not be overdone. Is he played out ? Why should I not tell people the truth ? The truth is not to be told at all times, but when it is, it should be a startler. Suppose I protest against the other Robinson f How about two Robinsons in the field ? . . . I see a glimmer. Or Should it not be given to the public as a frank and open confession of follies ? I am getting on in years, and folks who have been so interested in the Ideal Robinson would be anxious to know everything about the Real Robinson. But would such a work come well from the writer by whom they had already been of &0fcin$j)n Crugoe* so delightfully deceived ? Yes : but not at first. I will tell i hem that the Respectable Robinson is a fraud. I will publish the true story of my life. Then I will admit that I wrote the Respectable one as well. And will inform them frankly that I was not my own master at the time, but the slave of an Inkybus. The Inkybus is no more. He is gone : never to rt-turn : at least, I hope not. Thus I shall obtain a double success. Let me pen the sort of address to the public which is bound to attract their attention." ADDRESS [OR CIRCULAR]. " Since my return, and while living in the strictest seclusion, it has come to my knowledge that a book of autobiographical memoirs purporting to be the Adventures of Robinson Crusoe has been published, and has met with unexampled success. I have sent for the book, and hope while I am reading it to obtain an interim injunction so I think the lawyers term the method of procedure against the publishers. My own book, compiled from memory, assisted by various diaries, has been ready for some time past. I was merely keeping it back for the sake of giving it those finishing touches which every work of literature, or art, requires, ere it can be fairly placed before the public. The publication of this other work, which must be that of literally ' Some Adventurer,' forces my hand, and, to quote ancient Will, ' with all its imperfections on its head,' 1 must send forth my own little volume at once. For this purpose I have invited subscriptions, and the list so far looks uncommonly well. When the amount at present promised is realised as cash payment, I shall immediately place my book in the hands of some straightforward publisher, and it will be issued in parts according to the total subscriptions, -which must he paid one quarter in advance." "December. Arranging book The Truth about Robbingson. My own publisher. Subscriptions and orders coming in. Sale of original work taken a fiesh start. Shall defer the Real Robinson. How astonished they'll be to learn (in about a year or two,) that I wrote both, although the first was not written with a free hand! i'" " That this plan," I am now quoting from the solicitors' communication to me, " was never fully carried out is now almost certain. There is no record of any such work in the British Museum, nor in the Public Library of Hull. Had the book been published, it would doubtless have attracted con- siderable attention on account of the unparalleled success of the original Robinson. It would have been followed by a pamphlet confessing that one per- son had written both accounts. Among the papers of * John Robbingson Crewso ' (so originally spelt) are, an old subscription list of names, against several of which is marked * paid,' numerous orders for the forthcoming work, with letters mentioning the amount sent as pre-payment, a number of unreceipted tradesmen's bills, a printer's account (unpaid) for proofs and revises of ' Chapter of fto&fndou Crusoe* 7 First of the Reminiscences of J. R. C.,' which is clear evidence of the author's intention to publish the remainder of the MS. since fortunately discovered by a member of our firm. For ourselves, being perfectly unprejudiced, we are of opinion that these Reminiscences reveal the character of The Real Robinson, and that the other work hitherto ac- cepted as the only veracious account of Robinson Crusoe's Adventures, was written by its author partly voluntarily, partly, and latterly, on com- pulsion (which the strange narrative will be found to fully explain), in order to suit the highly sensitive respectability of the society with which, as a nameless wanderer returning to his native country, he was desirous of associating. This first book, ' Life and Ad\;entures of Robinson Crusoe,' opened society's doors to him. He made money by it, and on becoming free and independent, he was about to own frankly that he had not always been the irreproachable being as depicted by himself in the previous successful book, when he was removed from this transitory life, and his papers came into the hands of the then existing representatives 8 C!)e of our Firm. The packet was brought by a remark- able youth attired in a curious sort of livery. His hat was glossy with a silver band round it, the brim being very much turned up at the sides. He wore a collar open in front with a fall fastened by a horse-shoe pin. This he informed us was ' for luck. 5 On the breast of the outer garment, which we have every reason to believe was a frock-coat, appeared three rows of enormous buttons made of some metal closely resembling silver. After delivering the packet he thrust his hands into his capacious pockets and remained there steadily regarding our office-boy, who, becoming alarmed, summoned us to his assistance. But the messenger was impervious. He replied curtly, civilly, and satisfactorily to such questions as w.e put to him, only making one observation at th close of our examination-in-chief to the effect that ' Though he was not on his oath, yet he couldn't tell a lie if he were to try and was in a general way always gay and hearty.' After delivering himself of this sentiment, or song-and-sentiment combined, he turned on his heel, looking once over his shoulder of fcofctntfOH Crusoe* to inform us that his surname was Walker, and that his Christian prefix was also a surname very nearly resembling the name of the ever- venerated ' Judicious Hooker.' Indeed the moment for his departure was well chosen, as the Head of our Firm arriving at the instant intimated his intention of sending for a constable. This however is a digression suggested by the fact of our junior clerk, who had a pretty knack with his pencil, having taken a life-like portrait* of the messenger as he first appeared on the doorstep of our office. That these papers should have been sent to us in this manner remains in our six-and-eightpenny opinion ever a mystery. Why was the page blank, and why almost silent ? Why did he say as, after our interrogatories, he handed in the last portion of the MS., 'A page and leaves' and then immediately disappeared ? Who sent him ? Who sent him with this MS. r The desire to part with the papers betrayed itself. " Does not this anxiety to relinquish a position held under false pretences raise Robinson still * See page 12. io COe eal gftbenture* higher in the opinion of honest men ? Any subscriptions towards a ' Crusoe Memorial ' we shall be happy to receive. We have by us a small and valuable collection of ' Crusoeian Relics/ for which we are open to any reasonable offer. As for the manuscript, we have guaranteed its genuineness and have disposed of it to an eminent publishing house, who have intrusted the task of editing to a literary gentleman who is above suspicion. Our task is done. We have the honour of signing ourselves WALKER BOGUS BROTHERS & Co., (Solicitors, ^iamonb slippers, and night-cap, " and that therefore, with great reluctance, I should continue to keep my door shut, or should spring the watchman's rattle " which, childlike, I had carried upstairs with me, in- tending to use it as a plaything, and so accidentally had a command of the situation ; " which," I con- tinued, " would alarm the neighbours, and I should of Itofetttfon Crusoe. 17 be forced to give evidence against him before the magistrates, when he would not only be imprisoned for assault, but also fined five shillings for every oath he had used; and as by my own reckoning he had uttered exactly one hundred of these awful expres- sions, his knowledge of arithmetic would enable him to arrive at the sum for which he would be mulcted." I also reminded him that, though a mere infant, " I knew the nature of an oath," and could swear to the nature of every one he had used while pummelling the watchman. His interview through the keyhole at first created a certain coolness between us, yet, I may say, I felt it less than did my worthy sire, who was only in the costume I have already described, with nothing warm about his legs, while I lay in my own little bed with my blankets round me, from which coign of vantage I delivered the greater portion of my harangue. Billy, my half-brother, was shivering in his cot, not knowing what to make of it ; but the threat of a boot at his head caused him to retire under the bedclothes, and be no more heard or seen till the following morning. c i8 After this incident, my father and I became the warmest friends, and as the watchman's story was not believed by anybody, my father being one of the most respectable persons and there were a great many such in Hull, and as the watchman's rattle, which we had burnt as fire-wood, could not be found anywhere, and as, further, I denied all knowledge of the circumstances (what son so bad as not to stretch a point for his father ?) the unfortunate watchman was degraded, his badge indorsed, and himself transferred to a county gaol, where, in the distractions of night and day duty, he would soon forget the episode in his chequered career which had ended so sadly for him, and so fortunately for me, as I was now taken into my father's confidence ; and, I may add, there was scarcely anything he did of which I was long in ignorance. Yet I was sorry for the loss of my second step-mother, the third Mrs. Robinson. She had been very kind to me, and often would I rush at my father with a broomstick or coal-shovel when he was more demonstrative than usual in his display of passionate attachment towards her, Ta-ra-ra Boom to-day." Old Song, IP. 19. of &obin$on Crusoe* 19 and stand between him and the object of his affection. Poor dear third mother! I am not surprised that she disappeared with the tall military-looking stranger and never wrote, sent for her things, or re-appeared in the old house of Hull. " Hac oliiti meminisse juvabit" which quotation in the original tongue shows that my education has not been neglected. c 2 20 C!)e gtabentures CHAPTER II. EARLY IMPULSES. Little Billy. ^1 HAVE already men- f tioned the existence of a younger half- brother. "Half- a - loaf " may be " better than no bread," but half-a-brother is worse than no brother at all. His name was " Little Billy." He was a stupid and expensive boy. It was in consequence of his stupidity that he was always being sent to fresh schools and regularly " de- clined with thanks" after the second half. My father of Jvolnnson Crusoe* 21 used to style him " School-Billy," and often have I heard him complain of the enormous amounts my brother's education cost him. However, as Billy invariably returned to us with horrible tales of starvation, poor feeding, insufficient care, and cruelty generally, charges which he brought against all his teachers, from the head-master to the last usher, and as my father, who was not a man to be trifled with, at once threatened criminal proceedings against each school in turn, I am now of opinion that Billy was not quite so expensive a boy as my father would have made him out to be ; and I know as a fact that on two occasions, the school authorities compromised the threatened action by giving a receipt in full for the year's account, and in addition fitting out my brother with an entirely new suit of clothes of the best material and cut in latest fashion. " Suit against suit," quoth my father, cheerfully, " quite neat and appropriate." After this episode half-brother Billy became my father's favourite, and, as was natural, fell in my estimation. I saw through his wiles. He had 22 fteai Sttibenture* only to pretend to be bullied at school to insure being petted at home. I set myself to adjust the balance, and so far succeeded, that during one short vacation, my half-brother declared, that in future he would rather remain permanently at school. Adjusting the Balance. of olnn$on Crusoe* CHAPTER III. MAKING A NAME. Y half-brother com- plained to my father of my conduct to- wards him, but, un- fortunately for little Billy, our parent knew too much of the true nature of the "atrocities," of which Billy was always complaining at school, to give bi.iy in Dis-rac=. entire credence to his charges when brought against me (who was now once more in favour with my father) at home. Besides this, Billy was always prying and sneaking 24 CfK &eal about, so that in many cases when my father failed to punish him, I, as the elder brother, efficiently re- presented the paternal action. At last I was weary of Billy, and either he or I would have to quit. I regret to say that, when my father had lost five sovereigns, they were found in my brother's secret drawer. * * * * * Next day Billy was sent abroad. Who took him there I forget ; where he went I was not informed. He left without a word of regret, without admitting his guilt, but, on the contrary, protesting his innocence. He quitted the house without bidding me good-bye. This, however, was pardonable, as I was absent at the moment of his departure, and perhaps, had I been present, the separation might have been painful to one, or both, of us. On my desk I found a letter in Billy's handwriting to this effect : Jack, you thief and liar, you have blackened my character, look out. When I grow up big and strong Til give you the soundest thrashing you ever had in your life. Hoping that you will have had many a sound one before that time arrives, I leave you." of Jvolnnson Crusoe, 25 Here followed a somewhat indifferent drawing of a clenched fist and nose, with the inscription which I copy from memory. This inartistic and spiteful effort was signed simply "Billy." In my diary at that time I find this entry : " Billy gone ! shall we ever meet again ? Not if I know it" How Fate dealt with us both, time and this book will show.* We might have got on very well to- gether if he had only exhibited more good-fellow- ship towards me. I know he frequently excited suspicions of me in the minds of those who would otherwise have trusted me with considerable sums. I had defied him to bring his innuendos to the proof, The moment came when I, much against my will, was the means of proving to him, to my father and to all our little world that but I have already told the story of the five sovereigns. Had they been found in my box but they were not. He was a revengeful, morbid, sneaking, back-biting cur was my half-brother. He had short black curly locks, * The slight allusion to my brother contained in that luork of fiction which I shall call THE FALSE ROBINSON, is purposely misleading. IVliy it was so will be shouw in the course of this trustworthy and veracious narrative of facts. J. R. C. 26 Cfre lUai Bfcbentures and I think Mrs. Robinson number two was a quadroon or something of that sort. Which fact would account for a good deal that subsequently occurred. For the present enough. I shall pass on to other matters, I have never been able to ascertain exactly what class of industry originally brought my father to Hull. His answer to my questions on this subject was invariably in the form of advice to " mind my own business," and my retort as invariably was, " Your business is mine ; " and indeed, in spite of his unlimited confidence in me, it was not until I had discovered I always had a turn for exploring several engraving plates, tools, patterns of bank notes and impressions of our Gracious Sovereign's head and tail, as seen on the current coin of the realm [with the appearance of which, however, I was not too familiar though I have often had in the course of my subsequent career to bewail and account for its ^appearance] I say it was not until I had discovered these 'graving tools and other implements, that I was able to go to my father with more than filial boldness, and advance my of Robinson Crusoe* claim on his affection for a small share in the profits, while abstaining from any offer of participating actively in the work. Indeed, I was not made for toil of any descrip- tion, and preferred to pass my days in idleness, roaming about Hull, going down to the pier, watch- ing the boats, making ducks and drakes on the water, tossing coins with the youth of my own age, but not of my own intelligence, for luncheons, dinners, and drinks, in which hazards fortune kindly supple- mented whatever was lacking in my skill, and I could count on a very decent income to be derived from most games wherein the aforesaid element of skill reduced the uncertainties of chance to a minimum, such for example as the diversions of billiards, bagatelle, and a few of the superior games of cards ; so that, had the occasion arisen, I should have been no charge on my industrious father; nor, if my parent, in the mysterious designs of Providence, had been withdrawn from me, should I have wanted for a meal, or indeed for as many meals as might have satisfied my naturally good appetite in the course of the day. I was young, I was idle. I admit 28 Cfce jRral 9fcbetttiir*0 it.* Now that the ungrateful and malicious Bill had departed, I was the only son. My father said, " He did not like to see me lounging about with my hands in my pockets." The retort was obvious, but I am glad to remember now that I did not make it, and to this reticence on my part I attribute his assuming towards me in the course of the year a more confidential attitude than had hitherto been his wont. I regret to say that I affected many fopperies about this time. I was but a lad of seventeen, but both in manner and dress I was far in advance of my years, for I needs must be attired in the latest fashion, come home at the latest hours, and indulge in sleep when my father was already up and at work. I soon became " the cock of the walk," as the phrase is, and perhaps my bearing towards my equals and superiors was not all that would have approved itself to true modesty ; yet it is no great laudation of myself to say that Nature had done for me what she had left undone in others, so that I was physically and intellectually a couple of * In The False Robinson this is also admitted. ED. of ttftfctngDti Crusoe, 29 inches taller and several degrees stronger than most of my companions. Having visited London at my father's wish, whence I returned without his express permission, having a great desire to see him on a matter of some importance, I was able, as the billiard markers had it in the slang of the time, " to put on side," and to comport myself greatly to the admiration of both sexes, young and old, in our native town. "The cock crows so!" would the wise elders exclaim, and so it came about that (as I have been informed, not being myself evidence of the fact) the gossips, old and young, would inquire of one another, " Did he crow so yesterday ? " " Ay," would be the answer, " he crew so ! .... you never ! ! " How nick-names grow, and become fixed, cling- ing to the sturdy oak and I was sturdy, though a sapling, with alas ! very little " sap," in the school- boy sense of the term about me. " Crew so " stuck to me. Being of a sluggish disposition [I never lose my CJ)e fteal Sftbentures temper except when a sense of injury rouses my indignation, and then, Heaven forgive me ! I am a very lion on the war-path"] I used to spend some of my leisure leaning against a garden-seat that adorned the exterior of The Three Plucky Pigeons a well-known hostelrie whose bar and billiard-room I frequently patronised, to the great content of mine host, a very worthy man, and having a pretty wit for poetry and music I sang : Yes, I am Robinson Crew-so, And I can use a good cue so. Here I illustrated my meaning dramatically, whereat they were immensely tickled : Come to the table, And if you are able, Conquer young Robinson Crcvv-so ! The challenge was accepted. I lost my first two games, but as luck would have it, when I had boldly backed myself for a heavy sum and a dinner at the hostelrie, to be moistened with a few bottles of my excellent host's best Oporto, fortune changed, and I just contrived to win by five, a near thing, of of which my companions after dinner tried to take a mean advantage. Their schemes came to nothing, however, and before midnight I was enabled to return home far richer than all my com- panions put together. I call this the " Memorable Robinson Crew-so Evening," and so did they. Perhaps they do so to this day.* From this time forth I added Crusoe (thus spelt) to my name to distinguish me from my father Robinson senior. * There is the stamp of truth in the account of the otherwise appa- rently otld surname. ED. Making a Name. CHAPTER IV. DEVELOPING. TILL I was not com- pletely happy, nor at mature age, and where there is no- thing to be gained by avowal, or con- cealment, of the honest truth, am I able to affirm that I have ever known the man who was perfectly happy, Robinson depressed. though I have COme across some poor simple creatures who, without one halfpenny to rattle against another in their pockets to be spent on their own pleasures, and working for a wife and family entirely dependent on their exertions, of jRofcinson Crusoe. 33 have affirmed that they were entirely contented with their lot. Their " lot ! "their " little " I should have said. But I always put them down as poor-spirited humbugs, nay, hypocrites, with whom L have no- thing in common, and wouldn't have even if I could. Yet, all things considered, I was about as happy as any other young fellow of my own weight, size, age, and skill. I may fairly say that I never cost my dear father one single penny more than he could afford to give me, and of what that amount was, who could be so good a judge as I ? Not that with- out a murmur he used to hand me over a certain sum every quarter-day, I was always noted for my strict punctuality in matters of business, nor do I hesitate to admit that he did not present me with such other trifling amounts as my necessities demanded from time to time, without a protest which was, as I often pointed out to my father, quite unworthy of him. He had recently started a Joint Stock Bank Robinson, Bogus & Co. and his signature of" Jack Robinson " to a cheque or a bill was as good as cash without discount. D 34 Cbe Uai About this time I believe my father sent a con- siderable amount of money abroad. I never in- quired into the matter, as I fancied it was for my brother's schooling. To this day I am not sure of the fact. I saw what I thought were foreign notes, but it only struck me as odd that they should be sent abroad from here. Perhaps I was wrong. They might have been given in exchange. It was not my business, I am glad to say. The only evidence I had of my half-brother's existence was a - notice which arrived by post from the Brazils intimating that "William Robinson of Hull, son of John," intended to adopt the same surname as that of his half-brother, and would henceforth be known as "William Robinson Crusoe." How he had obtained the information I didn't care to inquire, and indeed at the time I was inclined to consider the message as a hoax. I did not communicate the news to my father, not considering it of sufficient importance. My father wrote a bold though a clerkly hand, and many a time, to save him trouble, for about this period he was dreadfully overworked, I used to draw of Crusoe. 35 and sign a considerable number of cheques, chiefly small ones, on behalf of the firm ; for as " Mr. Bogus" and "Co." were non-resident, and, indeed, to speak truly, I had never seen these parties in my life, I felt justified, always with the object of sparing my father as much labour as a dutiful son is bound to do, in signing for the absent partners as well as for my revered parent. What came of this consideration on my part will be seen in the next Chapter. Robinson for^jas a Cheque. D 2 CHAPTER V. A CRISIS FOR CRUSOE. NE afternoon, a memorable one in my career, I was afflicted with a severe toothache. I am blessed, I may say, with a power of endurance beyond most other men, and rather than waste one of Nature's gifts which can never be satisfac- torily replaced, I would s u ff e r agonies, and indeed should have done so, but for the assistance of a friendly chemist, who- let me have a large bottle of stuff with a very strong and peculiar smell, one drop of which at once allevi- ated pain, and the quantum of one pint taken off at a, Afflicted with Toothache. of ftoinitson Crusoe* 37 draught would, I presume, remove it so entirely that the sufferer would never more be troubled. Charged with this bottle, (as in another sense I was, seeing that my friend put it to my account, though I have since been informed that he has no sort of claim upon me, the sale of this stuff being undoubtedly illegal, but this, I admit, made no difference to me at the time, as legally or illegally dealing, all my tradesmen received equal measure from me) and being temporarily relieved from pain, I went to the office before the hour of closing. Never liking to obtrude where I am not required, I had contrived a small secret entrance by which I could gain access at any time to the partners' private room. On entering the apartment quietly, I was somewhat surprised to find my father engaged apparently in finishing some minute instructions to the junior clerk, in whose hand I noticed more than one five- pound Bank of England note, a circumstance that struck me as odd, seeing that nearly all our deal- ings were through the medium of paper issued by the County Banks. Struck by this incident, I offered to withdraw, but my father assured me there 38 Cfce cal Sfefetnttirt* was no necessity for my so doing, and bestowing a kindly nod on the youthful clerk Simon was his name which the latter did not appear to me to receive in the best possible spirit, though at the same time, just as he was passing out of the door into the counting-house, I could not help observing a movement of his right eye which had all the marked character of a confidential wink. Simon closed the door after him, and my father locked it on the inside, and then procuring a pass- book and ledger motioned me to be seated, and commenced to address me in the most earnest and affectionate manner possible. "John," he said, "our name stands high in the world of commerce. Our name is an excellent one." "Excellent," I replied, remembering how fre- quently I had written it, and not precisely foresee- ing the turn the conversation was about to take. " When a Firm, like a man, is popular, it will be familiarly known by some sort of nick-name," he observed. I acquiesced. He had evidently heard of " Rob- binson Crevv-so." of Eoln'uson " You may have come across the name by which, as the youthful Simon has recently informed me, we are familiarly known in the commercial world r " he inquired. I hesitated. I had heard a whisper of it, but I fancy they had been afraid to utter it plump out- right in my presence. " Putting Bogus & Co. aside, who, as the merry wags say, are the partners that should most fittingly represent the firm, the same small wits style us not Robinson but * Robbing- father,' and Robbing-son.' " And here he paused. I jumped up indignantly. " Can we lie under such an imputation ? " I ex- claimed. " That is precisely the best course to take," re- turned my father, " for the wind will be tempered to the shorn lamb." " Who is the shorn lamb r " I asked respectfully. "I cannot particularise," returned my father; " there are so many of them." " But," I ventured to observe, "you said the wind would be tempered " 40 Cfoe &eal "Yes," my father calmly interposed, "when raised. The wind must first be raised, then tempered." I admitted the justice of the remark, and was silent. " John," continued my father, " the calamities of mankind afflict the highest and the lowest. Through luxury and extravagance, the monarch on his throne may be suffering agonies of indigestion during a long Court ceremony ; or to take a less dignified illustration, the tramp during his night's sojourn at the workhouse may have to complain of indifferent 'skilly.' The great middle class is alone the safe one, intended by Providence to bear the greatest burdens themselves, and to exist for the benefit of the highest and the lowest." " Quousque tandem ?" I said to him with playful affection, being anxious to show that he had not vainly expended money on my classical education. " What were you pleased to observe, John ? " he inquired in his wise and grave manner. "Sir," I replied, somewhat abashed, "I expressed in ancient Latin the old question, ' What are you driving at ? ' ' af ftoimitfon Crusoe* "In a tandem ?" he asked, with a touch of inde- finable irony. " I was not aware that the Romans drove their horses in that fashion. But enough of pleasantry. There are the highest and the lowest in intelligence and in capacity for business, as well as in stations of life. The middle intelligence may be as easily the sport of the latter as the prey of the former, but it will be the fault of the highest capacity if it does not make use of what the great middle-class, which is the backbone and sinew of all commerce, provides for it."* I acquiesced, and cheerfully observed that Robin- son, Bogus & Co. ought to be doing an uncommonly fine business, judging from the unexceptionable character of their paper, and the great respect and esteem in which they were held by all men of business, not only in our own town but throughout the commercial world. My father heard me to the end, and then, in a voice wherein I fancy I detected the notes of deep emotion, I was never very slow at detecting any- * The sketch here given of the elder Robinson" 1 * style is so far in accordance with the allusions to him in THE FALSE ROBINSON as Jo prove a common orig inal. ED. 42 Cbe eal thing deep, thus resumed his discourse : " My dear John," he said, producing- several cheques, which at first I did not recognize, but soon guessed whose drawing they were, " you are a born artist." I bowed. " But as, in the interests of truth, a father should never flatter his son, I am bound to tell you that you are not a genius. Genius is original. Now in all your designs," and this word he used with marked emphasis, "I remark no touch of original genius, nor in your numerous drawings do I see anything but the merest copies of" . . . here he hesitated, then resumed, " of, I will say, an old master. With the best intentions in the world, my dear John, and you I am sure would be the last to disavow them I must inform you that you will not benefit the firm of Robinson, Bogus & Co. by per- severance in this course, and as you have hitherto constituted yourself ' Bogus & Co.,' I shall now proceed to dissolve partnership. I have taken the precaution of settling everything on my wife." " Married again ! " I exclaimed in utter astonish- ment. of iiobtnsion Crusoe, 43 'And settled/' he replied. "Yesterday, at the Church of St. Simon Without. Had you, my boy, been in the habit of attending that place of worship every Sunday, you would have heard the banns duly published. Mrs. Robinson has a snug jointure of her own, and we are going to live at some distance from our native land, which I recommend you also to quit within the next four-and- twenty hours, as, after that time, our shutters will be up. The old house" here my father was visibly affected " will be ' to let furnished ' with a man in possession within it ; and you, my dearest boy," and he grasped my hand warmly, " you have to make your choice. On the one hand, a copyist's career sud- denly terminated by incarceration; on the other, wherever it may be, as the poet says, * fresh fields and pastures new ' a perfect description of a spot most propitious to the exercise of your talents, where there is plenty of verdure about, and where a young fellow like yourself can be up and doing." Here a noise in the outer office attracting his atten- tion, he broke off suddenly in his discourse, motioned ms to silence, and stepping stealthily to the wall he 44 Cfte &eal showed me a small hole bored in it, through which aperture he could command whatever was going on in the outer office, at the same time indicating to me a similar one to which, as I understood from him, I was at once to apply my eye. This is what I saw, and what I presume my dear father did too. Two men, one with a red waistcoat, from which sign of authority I gathered that he was either a beadle or a Bow Street Runner, and the other in a shabby suit, stood before the counter engaged in conversation with our youngest and, temporarily, our only clerk, the others having obtained leave of absence for the eve of St. S within' s Day (a festival that my excellent father always made a point of religiously observing over his table being in- scribed St. Swithin's admirable maxim about " providing for a rainy day ") and evidently much puzzled by the youth's answers. " No he ain't in now, an' he ain't likely to be," says Simon, who had the simplest way with him, 4< as he's gone to Mr. Bogus's 'ouse by coach, and won't be back till to-morrow mornin,' an' as I'm the only clerk left 'ere, and I think you're up to no of ftolnnson Crusoe* 45 good, I'll just let out Speaker, who'll give you a bit of his mind, before I call a constable." With which he jumps down from his perch, and before they could say " Jack Robinson !" which name was indeed on their lips, the faithful fellow looses a bull-dog- hitherto kept for precaution's sake in these troublous times, in a basket under the counter, and Speaker, for such was the animal's name, " spying strangers in the house," which I have since learned is a parliamentary expression, without more ado made for the nearest pair of calves, and would have forced their owner to pay for his rash intrusion, had not the greencoated red- vested man fled precipitately. Honest Simon called the dog back, barred the door, and my father on coming out from the private room was com- mencing with tears of joyful pride, and a flow of eloquence I have rarely heard surpassed, he was a master of these two streams, which he could turn on at pleasure, so that at any moment he was able to secure a flood of tears and a flow of elo- quence, nay, even to pour out a torrent of invective, I say, he was about to employ these mighty 46 fte Keal gfebetttttrt* forces in order to express his high commendation of the lad's praiseworthy conduct, when Simon, standing at some little distance from us (my father being within a few paces of the door-mat, and my- self just within the doorway,) and still holding Speaker by a stout chain, cut short my father's pero- ration, somewhat rudely, with the brief exclamation, " O stow that gammon ! " As a scholar, I have since read of the surprise of Epaminondas at finding the mouse in his helmet ; of the startled look of Leonidas the bravest of the brave, on observing the suddenly rebellious attitude of Kokasnukos ; I have pictured to myself the wrath of Poluphoisboio on being answered by his hitherto gentle partner Molasses ; the indignation ex- pressed on the face of Socrates when the drachma was returned to him as being of doubtful value ; but, putting all these and many other historical and classical instances together, and combining their forces, they could not approach in sublimity to the expression of suppressed painful emotion that passed across my father's features at this inexcus- able rudeness on the part of his protege, Simon. of &in*0ii Crusoe, m There seemed however, to be a current drifting inland, and once more I began to be fearful lest the ship should glide stern foremost into Doubloon Bay. Fastening the wheel so as to steer north, I loosened the main-sheet, and with the assistance of a few weights that were lying about and were used for heaving the lead, I hoisted one sail, [I do not know its name, but it was about the middle of the vessel,] then I hoisted a fore-sail, and to my delight I saw them bulge out. In another moment I felt the vessel moving under me. At that instant a faint cry reached my ears. I turned a boat was just visible I looked through the glass and could detect four oars. Clearly Will Atkins and his own men, not the ship's crew, returning. At this moment, as luck would have it, the breeze dropped, and in consequence of the ship drifting astern (I think this is the nautical expression, but I mean "going backwards") they were gaining on me every second. There was a breeze but it seemed to escape my sail. H2 Cfte lUal In these regions night comes on with startling rapidity, and even now the sun was at its last gasp. Still as this might or might not help me, I had rather have seen my way than have had to feel it. Suddenly it occurred to me that our stern-chaser (a gun of some tonnage) was loaded, and being curiously nearsighted, 1 thought that this would be a merciful signal to my pursuers just to indicate that I meant mischief. So aiming as well as I could, and in much nervous trepidation, for I am unused to fire-arms, I applied a match to the gun. It exploded with a force that made the ship reel again. The explosion threw me on my back, jerking me to so great a distance and with such violence that, had it not been for a coil of rope, I should have been precipitated over the bulwarks into the sea. As it was, I lay senseless. When I recovered, the ' scene had entirely changed. The sun had disappeared. It was night. Pitch-dark. A fierce gale had sprung up. The masts were bending under the swelling and tugging canvas. of &otunon Crusoe, 113 The vessel was rolling fearfully. I crawled on my hands and knees to the wheel. A vivid flash of lightning followed by a terrific clap of thunder nearly blinded and deafened me. A second flash lighted up the sea. Not a soul was visible. No island, no boats, only sea, sea, sea ! ! Do what I could, I could not succeed in hauling down either of the sails. We were scudding at an awful rate, pitching and tossing, as if the whole voyage was to be a fearful game of chance. The compass shook and shivered in its case. The wheel revolved, there was no holding it. * Every timber of the Crazy Jane was strained to Us utmost limits. I knew nothing of sailing, nothing of navigation ! What could I do ? With superhuman energy I managed, during a short lull, to fix the wheel so as to preserve the direction in which the compass was pointing at the moment. This was N. by N.W. Scarcely was the desired result obtained than a violent gust rent the sails, and a hurricane swept me from the deck i Cfoe into the roaring boiling sea. I gave myself up for lost. I was tossed about as a boy used to be tossed in a blanket by heartless companions. I was knocked about as if I were a football. Then I lost consciousness. 1 1 was knocked about. of ito&fngott Crusoe* CHAPTER XIV. THE TRUTH ABOUT THE ISLAND. HEN I came to my- self it was some time before I could realise my situation. Had everything 5^ been a dream? r What had hap- pened ? Was I on board ship, or at Hull, or in Spain ? I called for the Cap- tain, for the Cap- tain's wife, for Will Atkins, and then -on a gigantic rock.- suddenly the whole truth flashed across me, as I sat bolt upright on the top of a rock where some gigantic wave, more I 2 Sftfcntture* kindly disposed than its fellows, had landed me high and dry. Very dry. Parched. I murmured to my- self, by a sort of poetic inspiration born of despair, The day is breaking, My head is aching, I'm wracked in every bone. My nerves are quivering, My knees are shivering, And I am here alone ! I actually composed a tune to this on the spot, and began to sing it. Was my brain reeling ? No ; for I had written the lines on my shirt-cuff, and had added the information " Copyright." Then it suddenly occurred to me that somewhere I had heard how swans sing just before they die, and I said to myself, "Robinson, my poor friend, this is a bad omen. Stop your singing. Look ' about you and see what is to be done." Whereupon, summoning up all my latent energy, I rose to my feet and gazed on the scene around me. The prospect was not encouraging. In the distance I could see the ship wedged in firmly of ftolHitson Crusoe, 117 among the rocks, lying" on her side like a huge walrus asleep. I have never seen a huge walrus asleep, or awake, but the simile sounds original and correct. The waves still broke over her and sportively danced about her, though the violence of the storm had passed away, and the grey morning was beginning to break, cold and hopeless. I was on a sea-shore : above me were cliffs of a reddish-brown colour crowned by a considerable amount of verdure, and a little further on I descried a small bay, which appeared to me to be the mouth of a river, on whose banks by walking a few steps forward so as to get a better view, I clearly perceived several trees and a quantity of long grass or reeds. Where was I r " If I am looking on a river," thought I, " there will be some fresh water there, and if I had only managed to preserve my flask " With this I put my hands in my pockets and began to rummage in my damp clothes. All I could find was a corkscrew, three half-pence, a pack of cards and a toothpick. What bitter mockery there was in this collection of odds and ends ! A corkscrew, and no bottle of anything at hand ! three half-pence and not even a baker's shop in the neighbourhood ! a pack of cards and not a companion to play with ! a toothpick and no sign of food anywhere ! If I could only reach the ship ! At present this was impossible ; if it were now low tide I should never manage it. But how if this were high tide ! I carefully descended from my perch to the sand, which, whether it were high or low water, at the present moment was of so magnificent an extent as to rival that at Scarborough, with which, as a north-country man, I was well acquainted, and the idea flashed across me, what a splendid, fashion- able watering-place this would make if it were only within reach of civilisation, and if I only knew where on earth I was ! " Fortune, my dear Robin- son Crusoe," I said to myself, " may after all be favourable, and what appeared to be your destruc- tion may turn out to be the starting-point of your future success." With this thought I cheered myself up a bit, but I confess, now, that I felt very down on my luck, of &0&mfon Crusoe* 119 and the more so, the hungrier and the thirstier I became. I was right in my surmise about the river. It was a small stream. I knelt down and drank some of the water. Then I gave myself a wash in the best manner I could, for I was always a cleanly lad, and I was more distressed at not having any soap with me than I was by the terrible vicissitudes through which I had passed. " Never," I resolved then and there, " never will I crawl about without a small piece of soap and a sponge, both of which can be carried in a case as portable as an ordinary pocket-book." Still the draught did not appease my appetite, but rather sharpened it. Where was I to look for something to eat ? And in this desert place suppose something were also looking out for someone to eat and should espy me ! I had no gun, no pistol, no knife, no sword ! The sun now commenced to shine. I did not like to take off my clothes and dry them on the rocks, not knowing who might come up, whether friend or foe, or, if I was in an inhabited country, whether there might not be some police regulations 120 Cfoe Beal as to bathing, which would render me liable to the utmost rigour of the law. If there were man-eating animals about, then I would far rather have my clothes on than be found by one of these beasts without them. At all events there would be some chance of escape with clothes on, as the most determined and vora- cious man-eating animal likes his food raw and rather objects to man dressed ; whether well dressed or badly dressed doesn't matter. One thing now became apparent that the tide was going out, and that if it only receded far enough, X I could reach the ship easily and have a good six hours' search all over the place. The anticipation of this brightened me up, and once more I began to look about me for something to eat. In the bay the sea had already left the sand and rocks clear, and here, remembering my early days at Scarborough and Whitby with a little pail and spade, I went in search of Crustacea. I was not long unrewarded. I found several small crabs, some jelly fish, occasional mussels, and a few small oysters which, evidently unaccustomed to the of oi)tn$on Crusoe* 121 proximity of man, were lying with their shells wide open. I stalked them carefully, and thrusting a sharp stone into half a dozen of them, I prevented them from closing, and then swallowed them with an avidity that must have considerably astonished the natives. I got a good dozen of these (how I longed for a pint of stout and brown bread and butter!}, and then went for the small crabs and mussels, which, however, I forgot at the moment required cooking before eating. I ate four mussels and two crabs .... that was quite sufficient. How I wished I had never touched them ! In the next hour I was in agonies, rolling on the sand and suffering far more tortures than I had ex- perienced on the previous night, when indeed, after I was once hurled into the sea, I was uncon- scious. But now ! With gratitude I noticed the sea receding farther and farther from the shore. I longed for the moment when I could reach the ship and get a glass of the best brandy. There was a clear mile of sand to traverse seawards between me and the wreck, , but I knew that on board I should find a panacea for all my sufferings. 122 CJje &eai gftbenture* Occasional waves were splashing and leaping on the rocks as I climbed the side of the Crazy Jane, and with great difficulty crawled across the deck, which was just at the angle she used to be when going at full speed with all sail crowded and the scuppers open. The compass was fixed, but the wheel was smashed, the vessel was creaking in every timber, and I fully expected that she would go to pieces while I was aboard. The question was would she afford me shelter for the coming night, as if not, where should I sleep r Never did I realise how comfortable my mode of existence had been until now, when there was so sure a prospect of my being houseless and homeless. The tide would turn, and if there were a storm I might be drowned in my berth, as helpless as a blind puppy. I went below and got straight to the Captain's desk. Here I found several bags of sovereigns and a quantity of silver coins and paper-money with which I had provided him, and which perhaps might be of use in these strange parts, wherever I might of lUrbittfton Crusoe. 123 be. But in civilised haunts of European com- merce, both the silver and the paper, excellent in appearance though they were, would I knew be valueless. However, in the hopes of one day see- ing the Captain, or at all events of restoring this money to his widow (if wife she had been) at Hull, I secured all the available assets, such as cash, rings, and various ornaments which he had left behind him. Also I found the will of which I had been the solitary witness ! Fortunately Captain Jonathan Brown had been a methodical man in his way, and so without difficulty I was able to find all his account books, keys, private store of cigars, of spirits, wine, and so forth. Having warmed myself with a glass of cognac medicinally, I visited the kitchen and the larder. Here there were stores of potted and preserved meats, vegetables, and in fact everything that a man could wish for; and as for wine, coffee, tea, tobacco, there was provision sufficient to supply one person for a couple of years. The hold was stuffed with contraband articles, as our stores had been taken on board at various ports and been 124 paid for with paper in which I had innocently lent a hand, never dreaming that our Captain was going to make a dishonest use of my clever imitations of handwriting and signatures and of some of the old but artistically designed bank-notes which had caused my father so much trouble, for which I am bound to say he only had himself to blame. There was every sort of implement for carpenter- ing. But of what use were these to me, who, as the reader of this may remember, never could hammer a nail, or fasten two bits of wood together in my life? There was plenty of gunpowder, a good gun and lots of ammunition. There was a clever poodle on board, which lay down at my approach and pre- tended to be dead. But on my saying " Here's a constable coming," he was up and gambolling about as lively as ever. There were several empty casks and boxes. But how I was to land my cargo bothered me until I saw the only small boat which had remained intact ; the other two, as has been already stated, had been taken away, one by those scoundrelly sailors in * .2