"I swear I’ve said nothing to Mary you might not have heard-or her mother".
She let him go. "Thank God for that! Now get up and pack your bags".
But she was soft enough to help him. The beautiful harbour lay spread before them, the grey stone town rising beyond it, and beyond that the dark mountains of Clare. An ancient feudal castle stood on one of the hills. The townsfolk were gathering to see the ship, for it was rarely that one of her size entered the harbour.
Now there came all the confusion of disembarking-they who had thought not to leave the ship till they landed at Quebec! Off they came carrying their belongings, looking paler than when they had set out, some excited, some forlorn, a few in tears. The poor livestock were led or harried off-some so weak in the leg they could hardly walk. They were dirty, they were dazed, though the poultry bore the adventure best. Maggie, the little goat which had been sent for Augusta’s nourishment, was the one exception. She seemed not to have suffered at all from the experience but trotted off on her little hooves, her bell tinkling. One of the sailors had taken a fancy to her and had combed her long silvery hair. As she was led from the pier she saw a small patch of green and hastened to tear off a mouthful and munch it.
Boney, too, had borne the voyage well. The rolling of the ship had been but a pleasure to him. To hang head downward was one of his diversions. He left the ship, sitting on Adeline’s shoulder. His beak was parted in what looked like a smile of triumph. His dark tongue was a wonder to the crowd who soon collected about her.
"You had better have carried him in his cage", said Philip.
"Indeed I had", she agreed, "and I’d put him in it now but it’s far behind with the stewardess, and it’s a heavy thing to carry".
The truth was she enjoyed the sensation they were making. She smiled and nodded at the crowd in a way that delighted them.
"Och, see the fine lady with the bird!" someone cried. "Come quick! ’Tis a sight to beat all!"
Others came running. "Bad cess to ye", cried one, giving his fellow a clout, "’tis yourself that do be hidin’ the view of her. Sure, I can’t see her at all".
The crowd increased. If the sight of Adeline with the parrot was enthralling, the sight of the ayah in her robes with the white-clad child in her arms and, in the child’s arms, the beautiful wax doll, increased the excitement to screaming point. The two Irishmen, D’Arcy and Brent, shouldered the crowd aside. Patsy had heard of a carriage that could be hired and presently it came rattling over the cobbles, drawn by a decrepit-looking horse who still could move with a strange devil-may-care alacrity.
Adeline found the priest’s young nieces and asked them where they would stay while repairs were being made. They were weighed down by bundles and looked scarcely so bright and rosy as when they had set out. They had a friend in the town with whom they would leave their possessions. Then they would walk the ten miles to their uncle’s house, spend the night with him, then go home for a sight of their parents. They looked more troubled than happy at the prospect.
"Faith, the last good-bye near killed our mother", said the older girl, "and the next one will be worse, but she’d think it quare and cruel of us if we didn’t go back to see her".
"I can hardly wait", said the other, "to see her and my da and all the young ones agin. Sure, we’ll have things to tell thim to frighten the life out of thim".
"Don’t you do it", said Adeline. "Tell her the sea was as smooth as a pewter plate and the wind no more than a baby’s breath. Tell her that only a wee board came loose on the ship but the Captain was so particular he brought us all the way back to Galway to have it set right. Tell her that I have my eye on you and mean to keep it there till we land in Canada".
"Yes, my lady", they agreed, showing their fine teeth, "we’ll tell her what you say. We’ll niver say a word to scare her".
Adeline watched them trudge off with their bundles. She could see the snowy whiteness of their napes beneath their curling dark hair. Now she thought of Mrs. Cameron and Mary. She gave a sigh, feeling suddenly the weight of responsibility for all these weaker creatures.
She saw Philip putting mother and daughter into the carriage. The ayah and Gussie were already in. He called out:
"Make haste, my dear! Let’s get away from here". An impatient frown dented his fair forehead.
Up the cobbled street the carriage rattled, followed by part of the crowd. Many of them were boys and girls who jumped up and down screaming in their excitement. Philip and the young Courts walked. Philip disliked being a part of such a procession but his brothers-in-law played up to it with gestures and chaff.
Later, looking down from her bedroom window, Adeline saw that a fight had started in the street. Errand-boys, butchers, beggars, anyone and everyone were shouting and fighting with fists and clubs. Dogs were barking and howling. Then suddenly a squad of "peelers" appeared. The fighting ceased. The crowd melted into lanes and cellar-ways. A Sabbath calm soothed the street.
Philip had watched the scene over Adeline’s shoulder with an amused smile.
"A funny lot, your people are!" he said, when it was over.
"They are as God made them", she replied, a little defensively.
"And are you sure it was God, my darling?"
"Well, He may have had a little help from outside".
He kissed her. "I scarcely have seen you alone", he said, "since we sailed. There was always the baby or your brothers or Mary. Egad, I shall be thankful when all this is over and we are established in Quebec".
"So shall I. You would never guess what Mr. Wilmott said when we stepped off the ship".
"What?"
"He said, ’Do you know I never expected to set foot on these islands again? I hoped never to set foot on them again.’ ’Never come home to visit again!’ I exclaimed. ’Never,’ he answered. And he looked sombre-like the hero of a romantic novel. I’ve done my best to encourage an attachment between him and Mrs. Cameron, but it seems hopeless".
"A sea-sick widow is not alluring", said Philip. "And, to judge by the looks he gives, he is more likely to form an attachment to you. He’d better be careful".
"That old sobersides!" laughed Adeline. "He’s not at all my sort. But I do like him as an acquaintance and I hope he’ll settle in Quebec near us".
"I think we ought to let your parents know we are here", said Philip, abruptly changing the subject. "It will take quite a week for repairs and, if they find out from other sources, it might give them a bit of a shock".
"No, no", cried Adeline. "I can’t bear another good-bye! It would be unlucky".
"We could tell them not to come".
"Nothing would keep my mother away. And my father too-he’d come and create some sort of disturbance. He’d probably abuse the Captain for not having a stauncher ship".
"They may see it in a newspaper".
"I’m willing to risk that. Next week they go on a visit to my grandfather. They’ll have no time for newspapers".
So she had her way and they settled down to the strange interlude in their voyage. They explored the streets of the grey old town. Philip and Mr. Wilmott went on fishing excursions. Adeline wandered with her brothers and Mary Cameron along the mountain paths of Clare or on the shore of the bay and brought home pockets full of shells for little Augusta. Every day there was the visit to the ship to watch the carpenters at work. Every day people thronged from the country about to see the wonders of the ship. It was grand to see them dancing on the deck in the spring evenings-their lithe bodies bounding and leaping to the whistled tune, clear as a pipe. They snapped their fingers and whirled and bounded in the dance. They had shapely limbs and Spanish faces and there had never been so much merriment on that ship before.