Whilst thou wert feeding, I received the signal of a swift
ship for Lisbon, whose captain is my friend, and would neglect nothing
to serve me. This night he will arrive, and with favourable breezes,
which have set in this morning, he shall spread his sails again
to-morrow, though he meant to linger perhaps for three days. Be of good
cheer, my son; thou shalt sail to-morrow. I will supply thee with all
that is needful, and thank God for a privilege so great. Thou shalt have
money as well for the passage from Lisbon to England, which is not
long. Remember in thy prayers--for thou art devout--that old man, Father
Bartholomew."
CHAPTER LVIII
IN EARLY MORN
One Saturday morning in the month of August, an hour and a half before
sunrise, Carne walked down to the big yew-tree, which stood far enough
from the brink of the cliff to escape the salt, and yet near enough
to command an extensive sea-view. This was the place where the young
shoemaker, belonging to the race of Shanks, had been scared so sadly
that he lost his sweetheart, some two years and a half ago; and this was
the tree that had been loved by painters, especially the conscientious
Sharples, a pupil of Romney, who studied the nicks and the tricks of
the bole, and the many fantastic frets of time, with all the loving
care which ensured the truth of his simple and powerful portraits. But
Sharples had long been away in the West; and Carne, having taste for
no art except his own, had despatched his dog Orso, the fiercer of the
pair, at the only son of a brush who had lately made ready to encamp
against that tree; upon which he decamped, and went over the cliff, with
a loss of much personal property.
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