Arkwright was so much better that she offered to sit again upon her mule. The men, however, declared that they would finish their task, and she was placed again upon the litter. And then with slow and weary step they did make their way to the river bank. It was not yet noon when they saw the mud fort which stands there, and as they drew into the enclosure round a small house which stands close by the river side, they saw the three postmen still busy about their packages.
"Thank God!" said Arkwright.
"Thank God, indeed!" said his brother. "All will be right with you now.""Well, Fanny," said her husband, as he took her very gently from the litter and seated her on a bench which stood outside the door. "It is all over now,--is it not?"She answered him by a shower of tears, but they were tears which brought her relief. He was aware of this, and therefore stood by her, still holding her by both her hands while her head rested against his side. "You will find the motion of the boat very gentle," he said; "indeed there will be no motion, and you and baby will sleep all the way down to Greytown." She did not answer him in words, but she looked up into his face, and he could see that her spirit was recovering itself.
There was almost a crowd of people collected on the spot, preparatory to the departure of the canoes. In the first place there was the commandant of the fort, to whom the small house belonged. He was looking to the passports of our friends, and with due diligence endeavouring to make something of the occasion, by discovering fatal legal impediments to the further prosecution of their voyage, which impediments would disappear on the payment of certain dollars. And then there were half a dozen Costa Rican soldiers, men with coloured caps and old muskets, ready to support the dignity and authority of the commandant. There were the guides taking payment from Abel Ring for their past work, and the postmen preparing their boats for the further journey. And then there was a certain German there, with a German servant, to whom the boats belonged. He also was very busy preparing for the river voyage. He was not going down with them, but it was his business to see them well started. A singular looking man was he, with a huge shaggy beard, and shaggy uncombed hair, but with bright blue eyes, which gave to his face a remarkable look of sweetness. He was an uncouth man to the eye, and yet a child would have trusted herself with him in a forest.
At this place they remained some two hours. Coffee was prepared here, and Mrs. Arkwright refreshed herself and her child. They washed and arranged their clothes, and when she stepped down the steep bank, clinging to her husband's arm as she made her way towards the boat, she smiled upon him as he looked at her.
"It is all over now,--is it not, my girl?"--he said, encouraging her.
"Oh, Harry, do not talk about it," she answered, shuddering.
"But I want you to say a word to me to let me know that you are better.""I am better,--much better."
"And you will see your mother again; will you not; and give baby to her yourself?"To this she made no immediate answer, for she was on a level with the river, and the canoe was close at her feet. And then she had to bid farewell to her brother. He was now the unfortunate one of the party, for his destiny required that he should go back to San Jose alone,--go back and remain there perhaps some ten years longer before he might look for the happiness of home.
"God bless you, dearest Abel," she said, kissing him and sobbing as she spoke.
"Good-bye, Fanny," he said, "and do not let them forget me in England. It is a great comfort to think that the worst of your troubles are over.""Oh,--she's all right now," said Arkwright. "Good-bye, old boy,"--and the two brothers-in-law grasped each other's hands heartily.
"Keep up your spirits, and we'll have you home before long.""Oh, I'm all right," said the other. But from the tone of the voices, it was clear that poor Ring was despondent at the thoughts of his coming solitude, and that Arkwright was already triumphing in his emancipation.
And then, with much care, Fanny Arkwright was stowed away in the boat. There was a great contest about the baby, but at last it was arranged, that at any rate for the first few hours she should be placed in the boat with the servant. The mother was told that by this plan she would feel herself at liberty to sleep during the heat of the day, and then she might hope to have strength to look to the child when they should be on shore during the night. In this way therefore they prepared to start, while Abel Ring stood on the bank looking at them with wishful eyes. In the first boat were two Indians paddling, and a third man steering with another paddle. In the middle there was much luggage, and near the luggage so as to be under shade, was the baby's soft bed. If nothing evil happened to the boat, the child could not be more safe in the best cradle that was ever rocked. With her was the maid-servant and some stranger who was also going down to Greytown.
In the second boat were the same number of men to paddle, the Indian guide being one of them, and there were the mails placed. Then there was a seat arranged with blankets, cloaks, and cushions, for Mrs. Arkwright, so that she might lean back and sleep without fatigue, and immediately opposite to her her husband placed himself.
"You all look very comfortable," said poor Abel from the bank.
"We shall do very well now," said Arkwright.
"And I do think I shall see mamma again," said his wife.
"That's right, old girl;--of course you will see her. Now then,--we are all ready." And with some little assistance from the German on the bank, the first boat was pushed off into the stream.
