Chapter 8 #2
The seas were high and gales were strong
And it's time for us to leave her
Leave her Johnny, leave her
Oh leave her Johnny, leave her
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow
And it's time for us to leave her
Well the winds was foul and the sea ran high
Leave her Johnny, leave her
She shipped it green and none went by
And it's time for us to leave her
Leave her Johnny, leave her
Oh leave her Johnny, leave her
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow
And it's time for us to leave her
Well the rats have gone and we the crew
Leave her Johnny, leave her
And it’s time, by God, that we go too
And it's time for us to leave her
Leave her Johnny, leave her
Oh leave her Johnny, leave her
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow
And it's time for us to leave her
Oh leave her Johnny, leave her
Oh leave her Johnny, leave her
For the voyage is done and the winds don't blow
And it's time for us to leave her
When the shanty ended, the men continued on with their work, while Darcy stared out across the waters, humming the melody softly.
/
“Are you quite sure you can spare the time, Mrs. Balfour?” Elizabeth asked, torn between a strong desire to go for a walk and contrition at taking up the older woman’s time.
“Of course, my dear, of course,” the lady replied with a smile.
“I will enjoy taking a last walk through my beloved Christiansted, and Sarah needs to purchase some fish for dinner. In any case, my husband is closeted with Mr. Kendall to discuss various aspects of church administration and Mrs. Kendall is resting. There is nothing else I can do, or that I would rather do.”
Elizabeth smiled at the woman gratefully and quickly donned a white bonnet, tying the strings under her chin.
Mrs. Balfour gazed at her curiously and shook her head, “You really are a remarkably handsome woman, Miss Bennet. I find it astonishing that you have not married.”
Elizabeth grimaced, “In truth, I have received three quite eligible offers of marriage and refused them all. All three offers involved significant complications and even though the worst has come to pass in the death of my father, I cannot repine refusing the first man, who was my father’s cousin and heir.
The third offer was from a dissolute and cruel Baronet, and I fled here to avoid the man.
The second, well, if I could go back in time I might well make a different decision.
I was young and foolish and so very arrogant, Mrs. Balfour. ”
“Tell me about this second man, Miss Bennet, if it is not too distressing,” the woman suggested sympathetically as she opened the door to the parsonage.
Elizabeth stepped down three steps into the main street and waited for her companions to join her.
Once both Mrs. Balfour and Sarah were beside her, all three women began walking down the cobbled street in the vague direction of the sea.
Elizabeth, somewhat to her surprise, found herself confiding in Mrs. Balfour.
She would never see Mrs. Balfour again once the lady departed for England, and she was confident that the clergyman’s wife was trustworthy.
As for the maid Sarah, Elizabeth knew that the young woman could not speak much English and thus would not understand their conversation.
As she spoke, Elizabeth found her gaze shifting from one exciting scene to another.
The sights and sounds of Christiansted were new, exotic, and fascinating for a young miss from Hertfordshire.
There were men and women moving to-and-fro, some empty handed, some carrying baskets.
There were chickens running freely, some with tiny chicks chasing after them.
And throughout the streets came the rich smell of warmth and vegetation.
“Well, my dear,” Mrs. Balfour commented when Elizabeth had finished speaking, “this Mr. Darcy sounds like a good suitor, but I agree his proposal was quite despicable.”
“It was, it was!” Elizabeth replied, surprised in a spurt of laughter.
“Poor man, I can find some measure of sympathy for him now. He was so confident, so arrogant, so certain of my acceptance, but I do understand that he is not his best in conversing with people. He is a hard-working and noble man with a strong arrogant streak. His accusations against my family, no matter how well-founded, were not politic or kind. On the other hand, if I were Mrs. Darcy, my mother and sisters would be safe, not poor and ...”
She trailed off and lifted a handkerchief to her mouth, struggling not to cry. To think that if she had only swallowed her own pride and prejudice, she could have been the salvation of her beloved family!
“My dear Miss Bennet,” Mrs. Balfour said gently. “How old are you?”
“I turned one and twenty a month ago.”
“Well, I assure you that there are few entirely sensible twenty year old ladies. You are an intelligent, high spirited woman, and I have no doubt that this Mr. Darcy fell in love with you precisely because of your disinclination to grovel at his feet. Do not berate yourself. Only God on High could have known what would come to pass.”
Elizabeth took a deep breath, “Why did He take our father from us so soon? I do not understand.”
“We do not know, Miss Bennet. The loss of a loved one is agonizing, and I would not care to pretend to understand God’s reasoning.
Nor is it wrong to grieve, mourn, and to ask questions even when there are no simple answers.
But I do have hope for you, that your future will be a good one even if it is not the one you anticipated. ”
“I hope so as well,” Elizabeth replied and halted in astonishment. They had turned a corner onto a new street and she could now see, spread out in front of her, the glory of the Caribbean Sea.
“It is so beautiful!” she cried. “I can hardly believe how different it looks from the ocean I grew accustomed to while aboard our ship. The range of blues and greens ... it is like a living painting!”
“It is marvelous, is it not? Come, let me take you to the beach where you can observe it more closely. Sarah?”
She turned now and rattled off a series of words to Sarah, who responded in her own tongue. The young woman separated from the two Englishwomen and walked sturdily toward the docks.
“Where is she going?” Elizabeth asked curiously as she followed Mrs. Balfour eagerly toward the beach.
“She is going to buy fish for dinner, Miss Bennet. The fishermen often come in mid-morning after working at night and sell their catch from the pier. Indeed, ah, yes, there is Jacob, her husband!”
Elizabeth turned and lifted her hand to shade her eyes, just in time to see the young woman skip forward to embrace the dark skinned man who was standing near a simple dingy.
“That language you spoke to her?” she inquired of Mrs. Balfour, “What is it?”
“It is a Creole language, which is to say a mixture of languages formed into a new one by the local inhabitants of St. Croix. Keep in mind, Miss Bennet, that the slaves originally abducted and dragged here from Africa came from a variety of tribes with different tongues. St. Croix itself has lived under many flags; until recently, Denmark owned St. Croix, St. John and St. Thomas until England conquered and took control. Even when the Danish king ruled, however, there were many English-managed plantations. Thus, there is an amalgam of languages and peoples.”
“It sounds horribly complicated,” Elizabeth commented ruefully. “I am amazed you have learned it so well.”
“It is very complicated,” her companion agreed. “The Lord has blessed me with a gift for languages, and I often have translated for my husband, who struggles much more. Well, what do you think?”
Elizabeth cautiously stepped onto the sand and stared out into the sea, her eyes widened in delight. Small waves, too miniature to form whitecaps, rolled in from the distant horizon with stately grandeur. Above them wheeled exotic birds with a range of colors and shapes.
“Oh, Mrs. Balfour,” she cried out impulsively. “It is the most amazing sight I have ever seen!”
“It is lovely,” the lady replied, sitting down on a convenient log and beginning to remove her shoes. “Come, the sand is much more pleasant between bare toes.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened, “Is that permitted, madam? Is it entirely… modest?”
“Keep in mind that this island is a tropical one, my dear. Of course, I encourage you to be modest in your demeanor and dress, but walking without shoes on the beach is both appropriate and sensible.”
Elizabeth did not need further urging. Within a minute, her feet were free of shoes and stockings and she found herself hurrying down to the beach with her skirts lifted above her ankles.
“The sand is so hot!” she cried out with a mixture of amusement and discomfort.
“The water will cool you down!” the older lady assured her.
The girl arrived at the water’s edge where the sand was wet and she paused, enchanted. The rippling water flowed back and forth, covering her feet for a moment before retreating with a gurgle of satisfaction.
Elizabeth Bennet sighed and drew deep draughts of ocean air into her lungs, relishing the feel of sun and wind on her face, and warm water on her toes. It was incredible, striking, and magnificent.