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Marriage at Sea

<h3> CHAPTER X </h3> <h4> A SINGULAR PROPOSAL </h4> I followed the man into the saloon and was led right aft where stood two large cabins. On entering I found Captain Parsons sitting at a table covered with nautical instruments, books, writing materials and so forth. A lighted bracket lamp near the door illuminated the interior, and gave me a good view of the hearty little fellow, and his sea-furniture of cot, locker, chest of drawers, and wearing apparel that slided to and fro upon the bulkhead as it dangled from pegs. His air was as grave, and his countenance as full of importance as such features as his were capable of expressing. Having asked me to take a seat, he surveyed me thoughtfully for some moments in silence. "Young gentleman," said he at last, "before we man the windlass I have to beg you'll not take amiss any questions I may put. Whatever I ask won't be out of curiosity. I believe I can see my way to doing you and your pretty young lady a very considerable service: but I shall first want all the truth you may think proper to give me." I heard him with some astonishment. What could he mean? What service had he in contemplation? "The truth of what, Captain Parsons?" said I. "Well, now, your relations with Miss Bellassys—it's an elopement, I believe?" "That is so," I answered, hardly knowing whether to laugh or to feel vexed. "Though the young lady," he continued, "is not one of my passengers in the sense that the rest of 'em are, she is aboard my ship, and as though by the Divine ordering, committed to my care, as are you and every man Jack of the two hundred and four souls who are sailing with me. Of course you know that we shipmasters have very great powers." I merely inclined my head, wondering what he was driving at. "A shipmaster," he proceeded, "is lord paramount, quite the cock of his own walk, and nothing must crow where he is. He is responsible for the safety and comfort, for the well-being, moral, spiritual, and physical, of every creature aboard his ship; no matter the circumstances under which that creature came aboard, whether by paying cabin money, by shipwreck, or by signing articles. Miss Bellassys has come into my hands, and it is my duty, as master of this ship, to see that she's done right by." The conflict of twenty emotions rendered me quite incapable to do anything more than stare at him. "Now, Mr. Barclay," he continued, crossing his bow legs, and wagging a little stunted forefinger in a kindly, admonishing way, "don't be affronted by this preface, and don't be affronted by what I'm going to ask, for if all be plain sailing, I shall be able to do you and the young lady a real A1, copper-fastened service." "Pray ask any questions you wish, captain," said I. "This is an elopement, you say?" "It is." "Where from?" "Boulogne-sur-Mer." "Bullong-sewer-mare," he repeated. "Was the young lady at school?" "She was." "What might be her age, now?" "She will be eighteen next so-and-so," said I, giving him the month. He suddenly jumped up, and I could not imagine what he meant to do, till pulling open a drawer, he took out a large box of cigars which he placed upon the table. "Pray, light up, Mr. Barclay," said he, looking to see if the window of his port-hole was open. "They are genuine Havannah cigars." He lighted one himself and proceeded. "What necessity was there for this elopement?" "Miss Bellassys is an orphan," I answered, still so much astonished that I found myself almost mechanically answering him as though I were in a witness-box, and he was Mr. Justice Parsons in a wig instead of an old, bow-legged, pimple-nosed, merchant skipper. "Her father was Colonel Bellassys, who died some years ago in India. On her mother's death she was taken charge of by her aunt, Lady Amelia Roscoe. Lady Amelia's husband was a gentleman named Withycombe Roscoe, whose estate in Kent adjoined my father's, Sir Herbert Barclay, the engineer." "D'ye mean the gentleman who built the L—— docks?" "Yes." "Oh, indeed!" cried he, looking somewhat impressed. "And how is your father, Mr. Barclay?" "He died about two years and a half ago," I replied. "But you have asked me for the truth of this elopement, Captain Parsons. There were constant quarrels between my father and Mr. Withycombe Roscoe over a hedge, or wall, or ditch—some matter contemptibly insignificant, but if the value of the few rods or perches of ground had been represented by the National Debt, there could not have been hotter blood, more ill-feeling between them. Litigation was incessant, and I am sorry to say that it still continues, though I should be glad to end it." "Sort of entailed lawsuit, I suppose?" said the captain, smoking with enjoyment, and listening with interest and respect. "Just so," said I, finding now a degree of happiness in this candour; it was a kind of easing of my conscience to tell this man my story, absolute stranger as he had been to me but a few hours before. "Mr. Roscoe died, and Lady Amelia took a house in London. I met her niece at the house of a friend, and fell in love with her." "So I should think," exclaimed Captain Parsons, "never saw a sweeter young lady in all my time." "Well, to cut short this part of the story—when her ladyship learnt that her niece was in love, and discovered who her sweetheart was—this occupied a few months I may tell you—she packed the girl off to Boulogne, to a Mademoiselle Championet, who keeps a sort of school at that place, though Grace was sent there professedly to learn French. This mademoiselle is some sort of poor connection of Lady Amelia, a bigotted Catholic, as her ladyship is, and it soon grew clear to my mind, from letters I received from Miss Bellassys—despatched in the old romantic fashion—" "What fashion's that?" called out the captain. "The bribed housemaid, sir. It soon grew clear to my mind, I say, that Lady Amelia's main object in sending the girl to Mademoiselle Championet was to get her converted." "Bad! bad!" cried Captain Parsons. "Her letters," I continued, growing hot as I spoke, "were all about Mademoiselle Championet's devices and mean dodges—how Miss Bellassys was taken to mass—how she was allowed to read nothing but Catholic books—how she was left alone with a priest—" "A d——d shame!" whipped out the captain. "And such a sweet young English woman too!" "Do you need to hear more?" said I, smiling. "I love the girl and she loves me; she was an orphan, and I did not consider the aunt a right and proper guardian for her; she consented to elope, and we did elope, and here we are, captain." "And you were bound to Penzance, I understand?" "Yes." "Why Penzance?" "To get married at a church in that district." "Who was going to marry ye?" "A cousin of mine, the Reverend Frank Howe, of course, after we had fulfilled the confounded legal conditions which obstruct young people like ourselves in England." "And what are the legal conditions? It's so long since I was married that I forget 'em," said the captain. "Residence, as it is called; then the consent of her ladyship, as Miss Bellassys is under age." "But she isn't going to consent, is she?" "How can she refuse after our association in the yacht—and here?" It took him some time to understand; he then shut one eye and said, "I see." We pulled at our cigars in silence as we gazed at each other. The evening had blackened into night; a silver star or two slided in the open port through which came the washing noise of the water as it swept eddying and seething past the bends into the wake of the ship; now and again the rudder jarred harshly and there was a monstrous tread of feet overhead. We were at the extreme after end of the vessel, where the heave of her would be most sensibly felt, and she was still curtseying with some briskness, but I scarcely heeded the motion, so effectually had the mad behaviour of the Spitfire cured me of all tendency to nausea. "And now, Mr. Barclay," exclaimed the captain, after a silence of a minute or two, "I'll explain why I have made so free as to ask you for your story. It's the opinion of Mrs. Barstow and Miss Moggadore, that Miss Bellassys and you ought to be married right away off. It's a duty that's owing to the young lady. You can see it for yourself, sir. Her situation, young gentleman," he added with emphasis, "is not what it ought to be." "I agree in every word," I exclaimed, "but—" He interrupted me: "Her dignity is yours, her reputation is yours. And the sooner you're married the better." I was about to speak, but despite my pronouncing several words he proceeded obstinately: "Mrs. Barstow is one of the best natured women in the world. There never was a more practical lady; sees a thing in a minute; and you may believe in her advice as you would in the fathom marks on a headline. Miss Moggadore, the young lady that sat on my left at table—did you notice her, Mr. Barclay?" "A middle-aged lady, with curls?" "Eight and thirty. Ain't that young enough? Ay, Miss Moggadore has two curls, and let me tell you that her nose heads the right way. Miss Moggadore wasn't behind the door when brains were served out. Well, she and Mrs. Barstow, and your humble servant," he convulsed his short square figure into a sea-bow, "are for having you and Miss Bellassys married straight away off." "So there is a clergyman on board?" I cried, feeling the blood in my face, and staring eagerly at him. "No, sir," said he, "there's no clergyman aboard my ship." "Then," said I, almost sulkily, "what on earth, Captain Parsons, is the good of you and Mrs. Barstow and Miss Moggadore advising Miss Bellassys and me to get married straight away off, as you term it?" "It ought to be done," said he, with an emphatic nod. "What, without a parson?" I cried. "I am a parson," he exclaimed. I imagined he intended a stupid pun upon his name. "Parson enough," he continued, "to do your business. I'll marry you!" "You?" I shouted. "Yes, me," he returned, striking his breast with his fist. "Pray, where were you ordained?" said I, disgusted with the bad taste of what I regarded as a joke. "Ordained!" he echoed, "I don't understand you. I'm the master of a British merchantman, and, as such, can and do desire, for Miss Bellassys's sake, to marry ye." Now, I do not know how, when or where I had stumbled upon the fact, but all on a sudden it came into my head that it was as Captain Parsons said: namely, that the master of a British merchantman was empowered, whether by statute, by precedent, or by recognition of the laws of necessity, to celebrate the marriage service on board his own ship at sea. I may have read it in the corner of a newspaper—in some column of answers to correspondents—as likely as not in a work of fiction; but the mere fact of having heard of it, persuaded me that Captain Parsons was in earnest; and very much indeed did he look in earnest as he surveyed me with an expression of triumph in his little eyes, whilst I hung in the wind, swiftly thinking. "But am I to understand," said I, fetching a breath, "that a marriage at sea, with nobody but the captain of the ship to officiate, is legal?" "Certainly," he cried, "let me splice you to Miss Bellassys, and there's nothing mortal outside the Divorce Court that can sunder you. How many couples do you think I've married in my time?" "I cannot imagine." "Six," he cried, "and they're all doing well, too." "But I suppose they were all formally married afterwards?" "No, sir," said he, misunderstanding me, "they were not formerly married. They came to me as you and the young lady will, single folks." "Have you a special marriage service at sea?" "The same, word for word, as you have it in the Prayer Book." "And when it is read—?" said I, pausing. "I enter the circumstance in the official logbook, duly witnessed, and then there you are, much more married than it would delight you to feel if afterwards you should find out you've made a mistake." My heart beat fast. Though I never dreamt for an instant of accepting this shipper's offices seriously, yet if the ceremony he performed should be legal it would be a trump card in my hand for any game I might hereafter have to play with Lady Amelia. "But how," said I, "are you to get over the objections to my marriage?" "What objections? The only objection I see is your not being married already." "Why," said I, "residence or licence." He flourished his hand: "You're both aboard my ship, aren't ye? That's residence enough for me. As to licence—there's no such thing at sea. Suppose a couple wanted to get married in the middle of the Pacific Ocean; where's the licence to come from?" "But how about the consent of the guardian?" "The lawful guardian isn't here," he answered, "the lawful guardian's leagues astern. No use talking of guardians aboard ship. The young lady being in this ship constitutes me her guardian, and it's enough for you that I give my consent." His air, as he pronounced these words, induced such a fit of laughter, that for several moments I was unable to speak. He appeared to heartily enjoy my merriment, and sat watching me with the broadest of grins. "I'm glad you take to the notion kindly," said he. "I was afraid, with Mrs. Barstow, that you'd create a difficulty." "I! Indeed, Captain Parsons, I have nothing in the world else to do, nothing in the world else to think of but to get married. But how about Miss Bellassys?" I added, with a shake of the head. "What will she have to say to a shipboard wedding?" "You leave her to Mrs. Barstow and Miss Moggadore," said he with a nod; "besides, it's for her to be anxious to get married. Make no mistake, young man. Until she becomes Mrs. Barclay, her situation is by no means what it ought to be." "But is it the fact, captain," I exclaimed, visited by a new emotion of surprise and incredulity, "that a marriage, celebrated at sea by the captain of a ship, is legal?" Instead of answering, he counted upon his fingers. "Three and one are four, and two are six, and two's eight, and three's eleven, and four again's fifteen." He paused, looking up at me, and exclaimed with as much solemnity as he could impart to his briny voice, "If it isn't legal, all I can say is, God help fifteen of as fine a set of children as ever a man could wish to clap eyes on—not counting the twelve parents, that I married. But since you seem to doubt—I wish I had the official log-books containing the entries—tell ye what I'll do!" he exclaimed, and jumped up. "Do you know Mr. Higginson?" "A passenger, I presume?" "Ay, one of the shrewdest lawyers in New Zealand. I'll send for him, and you shall hear what he says." But on putting his head out to call for the steward, he saw Mr. Higginson sitting at the saloon table reading. Some whispering followed, and they both arrived, the captain carefully shutting the door behind him. Mr. Higginson was a tall, middle-aged man, with a face that certainly looked intellectual enough to inspire one with some degree of confidence in anything he might deliver. He put on a pair of pince-nez glasses, bowed to me, and took a chair. The captain began awkwardly, abruptly, and in a rumbling voice. "Mr. Higginson, I'll tell you in half-a-dozen words how the case stands. No need for mystery. Mr. Barclay's out on an eloping tour. He don't mind my saying so, for we want nothing but the truth aboard the Carthusian. He's run away with that sweet young lady we took off his yacht, and is anxious to get married, and Mrs. Barstow and Miss Moggadore don't at all relish the situation the young lady's put herself in, and they're for marrying her as quickly as the job can be done." Mr. Higginson nursed his knee and smiled at the deck with a look of embarrassment though he had been attending to the skipper's words with lawyer-like gravity down to that moment. "You see," continued Captain Parsons, "that the young lady being aboard my ship puts her under my care." "Just so," said Mr. Higginson. "Therefore I'm her guardian, and it's my duty to look after her." "Just so," murmured Mr. Higginson. "Now, I suppose you're aware, sir," continued the captain, "that the master of a British merchantman is fully empowered to marry any couple aboard his ship?" "Empowered by what?" asked Mr. Higginson. "He has the right to do it, sir," answered the captain. "It is a subject," exclaimed Mr. Higginson nervously, "upon which I am hardly qualified to give an opinion." "Is a shipboard marriage legal, or is it not legal?" demanded the captain. "I cannot answer as to the legality," answered the lawyer, "but I believe there are several instances on record of marriages having taken place at sea; and I should say," he added slowly and cautiously, "that in the event of their legality ever being tested, no court would be found willing, on the merits of the contracts as marriages, to set them aside." "There ye have it, Mr. Barclay," cried the captain with a triumphant swing round in his chair. "In the case of a marriage at sea," continued Mr. Higginson looking at me, "I should certainly counsel the parties not to depend upon the validity of their union, but to make haste to confirm it by a second marriage on their arrival at port." "Needless expense and trouble," whipped out the captain; "there's the official log-book. What more's wanted?" "But is there no form required—no licence necessary?" I exclaimed, addressing Mr. Higginson. "Hardly at sea, I should say," he answered, smiling. "My argument!" shouted the captain. "But the young lady is under age," I continued; "she is an orphan, and her aunt is her guardian. How about that aunt's consent, sir?" "How can it be obtained?" exclaimed the lawyer. "My argument again!" roared the captain. "No doubt," exclaimed Mr. Higginson, "as the young lady is under age, the marriage could be rendered by the action of her guardian null and void. But would the guardian in this case take such a step? Would she not rather desire that this union at sea should be confirmed by a wedding on shore?" "You exactly express my hope," said I; "but before we decide, Captain Parsons, let me first of all talk the matter over with Miss Bellassys." "All right, sir," he answered, "but don't lose sight of this: that, whilst the young lady's aboard my ship, I'm her natural guardian and protector; the law holds me accountable for her safety and well-being, and what I say is, she ought to be married. I've explained why; and I say, she ought to be married!" A few minutes later, I quitted the cabin, leaving the captain and Mr. Higginson arguing upon the powers of a commander of a ship, the skipper shouting as I opened the door, "I tell you, Mr. Higginson, that the master of a vessel may not only legally marry a couple, but may legally christen their infants, sir; and then legally bury the lot of them, if they should die." <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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