"But God’s mercy is at the bottom of it", said the Captain.
The next morning land was in sight. The weary travellers in the steerage crowded together to peer out at it. The air was crisp but kindly. Little crinkles ran across the surface of the long waves. The icicles dripped, then dropped into the Gulf of St. Lawrence. The Alanna entered the mighty river. Green banks rose above the river and unfolded into dark forests. Tiny white villages came into view mothered by white churches with bright crosses on their steeples. Long narrow farms stretched close for comfort. Cattle stood near the river’s edge and the sweet smells of the land came out to meet them. Was it possible that only a few days before they had been in a snowstorm-that icicles had been hanging from the ship?
It was Sunday morning and Captain Bradley read the church service with the note of satisfaction and the thanksgiving still in his voice. There was a tiny organ in the salon on which Wilmott played the accompaniment to the hymn. The voices rose robustly, as though fear never had been their companion. The words were enunciated with satisfaction.
Now Philip and Adeline were packing their belongings. Though some articles had been lost or worn out during the voyage, they found the greatest difficulty in squeezing the remainder into their portmanteaux. Some fresh article always was turning up. Philip was irritated by the fact that he still had to be very careful of Adeline’s feelings. He would have liked to blame her for some of the disorder. Surely she was to blame for heaping travelling-rugs and her own shoes and a dressing-case on top of his best coat. When at last the packing was done, though badly enough, they suddenly remembered the ayah’s cabin and all that lay heaped and strewn in it. Boney was furious at being put into his cage. He screamed and fretted there, flapping his green wings and throwing about seeds and gravel. Adeline’s voice came back to her, loud and strong in the stress of the moment.
"I can’t do any more!" she cried.
"Nobody’s asking you to", snapped Philip, and he added as he went out, "You’ve done too much already in the way of disorder".
"What’s that you say?" she cried.
He did not answer.
She was weak but there was no need for her to totter as she entered the ayah’s cabin, or for her to sink panting on the side of the berth with her hand to her side. Her voice was now a fierce whisper.
"What was it you said?" she asked.
"I said, God damme, I never saw such a mess! I should have brought a valet from England".
"What you really said was that all this disorder was my fault".
"You’re talking nonsense". He grasped a handful of Gussie’s small garments. "What about these? Hadn’t we better leave them on board and buy her new things?"
"Leave them!" she almost screamed. "And they of the finest Irish linen and hand-embroidered! I will not leave one of them! Open that black box. There will be room in it".
With flushed face he opened the box. She peered into it. "Where is the doll?" she asked.
"What doll?"
"The beautiful doll your sister gave to Gussie. Huneefa kept it in that box".
"It isn’t here".
"It must be. You must find it".
He sat back on his heels and glared at her out of angry blue eyes. He exclaimed:
"Have I come to this-that I must search for a doll at the moment of landing? It’s not enough that I should pack diapers but I must crawl about on my hands and knees searching for a doll! Egad, Adeline-"
"Never mind", she interrupted, frightened by the sight of his face. "Don’t search for it. It must be in the other cabin".
Somehow they got their things together. Somehow a couple of stewards carried them toward the gangway, to the accompaniment of Boney’s screams. Philip carried his cage and kept his other arm firmly about Adeline. He said:
"I sometimes wish we had never brought this bird".
"Leave him behind", she cried, "if he’s a trouble! Leave him behind, and me too! You can get another woman and another bird in Quebec".
He pinched her arm. "Behave yourself. People will hear you".
"I don’t care! You were hurting me".
"Well, I care, and I wasn’t hurting you".
Wilmott came to meet them. "What a pity you have not been on deck! We have had a grand view of Quebec. You should have done your packing earlier. Can I help in any way?"
Philip put the bird-cage into his hand.
There was a great bustle and confusion. The air was full of shouts and the whimpering of gulls. The great white sails of the ship were drooping like weary wings. Barefoot sailors clung in the shrouds gazing down on the crowded pier. Adeline turned a smiling face on Wilmott. "What should we do without you?" she said.
"You know it is my pleasure to be of service to you", he replied, somewhat stiffly, but a flush had risen in his sallow cheek. "You are feeling much better, aren’t you?" he added.
"I should be dead if I weren’t".
"It is a good thing you found someone who could look after your child".
"Merciful heaven!" cried Adeline. "Where is Gussie? Oh, Philip, where is Gussie? That terrible Scotch woman has probably landed and gone off with her!"
"The ship has not docked yet", said Philip calmly. "The Scotswoman is an excellent creature and has no need of another child. I have arranged everything with her and paid her as well. Here comes Patsy now with Augusta".
He watched his approaching daughter a little grimly. She was perched on Patsy’s shoulder, grasping him round the head. Her clothes were crumpled and stained, her face and hands had a strange greyish cleanliness. The cloth that had washed them had seen so much service! However, she looked distinctly less ailing than when Philip had transferred her to the steerage, and she greeted her mother with a faint smile of recognition.
"Oh, the darling!" cried Adeline, and kissed her. "Oh, Gussie, you do smell sour", she added under her breath.
Boney decided to leave the ship head downward as he had come aboard. Clinging by his dark claws to the ceiling of his cage, he saw recognisable bodies moving about him. He felt the crisp May breeze in his face-a breeze that had a very different flavour from the air below decks to which he had become accustomed. He turned it over on his tongue, not quite sure whether or no he liked it. Over the shoulders of those about he glimpsed the dark fortress with white clouds banked behind it-for Wilmott was a tall man and held his cage high.
Adeline felt strangely weak as she moved toward the gangway. Suddenly D’Arcy and Brent presented themselves and, gripping each other by the wrists, made a chair for her on which they implored her to seat herself. She looked questioningly at Philip. Would he allow it?
"A good idea", he declared. "Thank you very much. Adeline will be delighted".
So Boney saw his mistress carried off and screamed his approval. He heard the shouts of French porters, saw the carrioles drawn by their horses, in line by the side of the pier. Some passengers were met by friends or relatives. Others had no one to meet them but stood disconsolate and confused beside their little mounds of luggage. The two young Irish girls were there, looking much less buxom than when they had first sailed. Adeline gave them her address and told them to come and see her the next day. Before D’Arcy and Brent set her on her feet, she gave each a kiss on his cheek.