Benjamin Disraeli - "Ixion In Heaven"

George Cary Eggleston - "The Big Brother"

William D. Howells - "A Fearful Responsibility and Other Stories"

Richard F. Burton - "The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night, Volume 3"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Major Vigoureux

A >> A. T. Quiller Couch >> Major Vigoureux




"That's how it was with the _Milo_. I couldn't say when the danger
ceased; but I found myself looking at Madame across the binnacle lamp
and she was looking at me. My hand went out and I rang down for
half-speed, then for dead slow. We stood there and listened while the
engines changed their beat from one to the other. In the saloon they
had started a comic song with a chorus. Said she, after a bit, 'You can
bring up now and wait for morning. North of the Gunnel here there's an
eddy slack where the tides meet, and you may count on thirty fathoms.'

"I called down to know what the lead reported. I felt my voice shaking
and the leadsman's voice shook a bit too as he called back that he had
found the bottom with the red seventeen fathom mark. Half a minute
later he sang out that his line had lost it. I was just about calling
to let go anchor when away on our starboard bow we heard the pilots
hailing. We sent up a flare, and at sight of it the lighthousemen, away
on the Monk, began banging, and small blame to them!"




CHAPTER X

THE ADVENTURES OF FOUR SHILLINGS


As he finished his story Captain Whitaker stood up and reached out a
hand to open a glass-fronted cupboard in which he kept his books and
papers. The Commandant, mistaking his movement, rose also.

"No, no, sir," the Captain corrected him. "Sit down and finish your
breakfast. The fact is, when her maid, last night, handed me the letter
telling me she had gone ashore, I sat down and wrote an answer. Here it
is, and I was going to ask you to deliver it for me."

The Commandant took it, and placed it carefully in his breast pocket.
"I thank you," he answered, "but I have breakfasted. If you don't
mind--it occurs to me that, if I delay, some of your passengers will
soon be about the decks, and will see the luggage going overside, and
ask questions."

"And that's well thought of," interrupted Captain Whitaker, "though I
expect the luggage is all in your boat before this. How far lies your
house from the quay, by the way?"

The Commandant answered that his house--the Barracks--stood at the very
top of the hill.

"Why, then," said the Captain, leading the way up the companionway,
"the least I can do is to send a couple of my men along with you to
help. Your fellows--you'll excuse me--don't look equal to it.
Pensioners, eh?"

The Commandant winced. "One of them," he answered stiffly, "is on the
active list. His strength would surprise you, sir."

"H'm!" said the Captain, with a glance at Sergeant Archelaus.

"The other--but where is Tregaskis?"

"Gone off, sir, to do business with the steward," explained Archelaus,
saluting.

"The other is a Mr. Tregaskis, a respectable man, and our principal
tradesman in Garland Town. He has a design, I believe, to sell you
whatever you may want in the way of fresh provisions."

"Certainly. The steward can go ashore, too, and do business with him,
and his boat will bring the others back. Here--Hoskings! Arnott!"
Captain Whitaker called to a couple of seamen, and sent a third off to
summon the steward.

Five minutes later the Commandant found himself back in his boat,
seated besides the _Milo's_ steward, and confronting a tall pile of
luggage. The two seamen had already put off with Mr. Tregaskis in the
steward's boat.

"And you will present my duty to Madame?" said Madame's maid, looking
down from the ship's side. "And tell her that I charge myself to see
the rest of her luggage safe to the hotel, where I will report myself
and wait for Madame's orders."

Captain Whitaker waved good-bye. Archelaus pushed off and fell to the
oars. The Commandant took the tiller. As the boat pointed for shore the
garrison bell on the hill rang out nine o'clock.

Nine o'clock! The notes of the bell struck apprehension upon the
Commandant's heart. His guest would certainly be awake by this time,
and as certainly hungry. To be sure, she could not attire herself until
her boxes arrived--at any rate, would not appear. And yet, with such a
strong-willed person, he could not be certain. A lady capable of
landing on a foggy night in an evening gown and diamonds, and of
walking up the street of St. Hugh's in shoes of rose-coloured satin,
might well be capable of descending to breakfast in those garments.

To breakfast!--and as yet that breakfast had to be bought, and on
credit!

He wished now that he had offered to convey Mr. Tregaskis back in his
own boat. He might (he told himself) have broached his proposition on
the way.

The _Milo's_ steward, affably inclined, let fall a remark or two upon
the Islands. He opined that they were quaint. The poor man meant well,
but was a person slightly above his station, and clipped his words.
This gave him a patronising tone, which the Commandant, in his
impatience, found offensive. He answered in curt monosyllables, which
in turn caused the steward to mistake him for a stand-offish gentleman.

The steward was a very resplendent figure indeed. The morning sunlight,
which drew sparkles from the brass-buttoned suit and brass-bound cap
beside him, exposed pitilessly the threadbare woof of the Commandant's
uniform coat. There had been nothing amiss with the coat, yesterday;
nothing to observe, at least--- And, "Confound the fellow!" thought
the Commandant, "how am I to get rid of him and have a word with
Tregaskis?"

For desperate ills, desperate remedies. Drawing alongside the quay,
where Mr. Tregaskis and the two seamen had landed and stood waiting,
the Commandant called upon his best service voice, concealing the shake
in it:

"Mr. Tregaskis!"

"Sir?"

"I desire a word with you."

"Yes, sir."

"And in private," went on the Commandant, stepping ashore and marching
straight up the steps.

"Certainly, sir." After all, and not so long ago, Major Vigoureux had
been Governor and Chief Magistrate of the Islands, with power to
inflict fine and imprisonment. Mr. Tregaskis (conscious, perhaps, of
some close dealings in the not remote past) turned obediently and led
the way to his shop door at the corner of the hill, thence through the
shop, and thence to the threshold of a dark parlour behind it, into
which he was passing when the Commandant's voice brought him to a
stand.

"We will talk here, if you please," said the Commandant.

"Certainly, sir," Mr. Tregaskis turned about.

"I want," said the Commandant, "half a pound of your best tea, half a
dozen new laid eggs, an amount of bacon which I leave to you, and a pot
of marmalade."

"With pleasure, sir. Anything I can do----"

"And on credit."

"As I said sir--to be sure--and hoping that I have given satisfaction
hitherto--" Mr. Tregaskis, still a trifle flurried, fell to rubbing his
hands together, thus producing an appearance of haste before he
actually collected himself and hurried to execute the order.

"Good God!" thought the Commandant to himself. "Am I browbeating this
man?"

He watched as Mr. Tregaskis cut and weighed out the butter and bacon
and tied them up into parcels, with the help of a small boy summoned
from the back premises; or rather, the small boy (Melk by name, which
was short for Melchisedek) did the weighing and tying while Mr.
Tregaskis stood over him and exhorted him to look sharp, or he'd never
make a grocer. The steward watched from the doorway, puffing a
cigarette, and expressed a hope that he was not excluding the light.
The Commandant wished him a thousand miles away. Sergeant Archelaus had
borrowed a light trolley from the quay; the two seamen had loaded it;
and already Madame's luggage was half-way up the hill, and must
infallibly reach the Barracks before Madame's breakfast could overtake
it.

"And when would you like it sent, sir?" asked Mr. Tregaskis, nodding at
the piles on the counter.

"Sent?" echoed the Commandant. "I beg your pardon," he went on hastily.
"I had meant to ask you for the loan of a basket. I will carry the
things myself."

"Indeed, sir?" Mr. Tregaskis hesitated. "You are welcome to a basket,
of course, if you think it wise."

"I am not ashamed to be seen carrying a basket, Mr. Tregaskis."

"No, indeed, sir! But the hill being steep--and a little exercise would
do Melk, here, all the good in the world."

"I prefer to carry the goods myself, I thank you." (Was everybody in a
conspiracy to take the Commandant for a very old man?)

He waited impatiently until the basket was filled, slung it on his arm,
and hurried out of the shop with such impetuosity that the steward,
still lounging in the doorway, had scarcely time to skip into the
roadway and give passage.

"They must be going in for some kind of feast, up to Barracks," said
the boy Melk meditatively, after a pause.

"Why?" asked Mr. Tregaskis, looking up from the counter.

"Because," said the boy, "Old Mother Treacher was here, not ten minutes
ago, and the way she spent her money was a caution. There's the best
part of four shillin' in the till, if only you'll look."

"What did she buy?"

"Eggs mostly--and bacon--and marmalade."

Mr. Tregaskis walked to his shop door, and stared up the hill after the
Commandant.

"Must be going off their heads," he decided, and shook his own
doubtfully. "It can't be a merry-makin' either; for, when you come to
think of it, folks don't feast off such things as streaky bacon."

"Not off this sort, any'ow," airily agreed the steward, who had been
examining a piece on the counter.

* * * * *

The Commandant had started fiercely enough to climb the hill, but by
the time he reached the bend of the hill where stood the cottage which
had been Vashti's home he was drawing difficult breath. Indeed, he was
on the point of setting down his load and resting when, as he turned
the corner, he came full upon Mrs. Banfield, the good wife of the
present occupier, in conversation with Mrs. Medlin, her neighbour
across the road. The two women were staring up the hill, each from her
doorway, but at the sound of the Commandant's footsteps they turned and
stared at him instead: whereat he blushed and hung on his heel for a
moment before charging through the cross-fire of gossip.

"Good morning, ladies!"

"Aw, good morning to you, sir," answered Mrs. Banfield, with a curtsey,
and gazed hard at his basket. "Nothing wrong up to the garrison, I
hope?"

"So far as I know, ma'am, nothing at all."

"Seein' that great stack of luggage go up the hill," explained Mrs.
Medlin, "why naturally it made a person anxious. And when you put a
civil question, as I did to Sergeant Archelaus, and he turns round and
as good as snaps your head off, why a person can't help putting two and
two together."

"Indeed, ma'am, and what did you make the result?" asked the
Commandant, politely.

"Why, sir, Mrs. Banfield here was reckoning that the Government had
sent stores for you at last, and says I, 'You may be right, Sarah, and
glad enough we shall a-be to hear of it, for it do make my heart bleed
to remember old days and see what the garrison is reduced to in vittles
and small-clothes. But,' says I, 'the luggage comes from the great
steamship, and the great steamship comes from America, and that
Government would be sending stores from America, even in these days of
tinned meats, is what, beggin' your pardon, no person could believe
that wasn't born a fool.'"

"Which I answered to Mrs. Medlin," said Mrs. Banfield, "'Granted,
ma'am,' I said, 'but, food or no food, I'd sooner swallow it than
believe what you were tellin' just now.'"

"And what was that?" asked the Commandant, turning on Mrs. Medlin.

"Why, sir, knowing the Lord Proprietor to be no friend of yours----"

"Hush, Mrs. Medlin--hush, if you please!"

"Of course, sir, if you don't want to hear----"

"I certainly cannot listen to any talk against Sir Caesar. It would be
exceedingly improper."

"I warn' going to say anything improper," Mrs. Medlin protested
stoutly. "And I wonder, sir, at your thinking it, after the years
you've given good-day to me."

"Why, bless the woman!" interjected Mrs. Banfield, "you might talk as
improper as you pleased and the Governor wouldn't understand your
drift--he's that innocent-minded. But what she meant, sir, was that the
Lord Proprietor had turned you out, belike--as everyone knows he has a
mind to--and that a new Governor might be coming in your place."

The Commandant flushed. "My dear Mrs. Banfield, the Lord Proprietor has
nothing to do with the military command here, either to appoint or to
dismiss. I cannot forbid your gossipping; but it may help you to know
that every soldier on the Islands holds his post directly under the
Crown."

Mrs. Banfield gazed at the basket with the air of one who, seeming to
yield, yet abides by her convictions. "The Crown's a long way off,
seemin' to me," she objected; "and contrariwise I do know that when the
Lord Proprietor wants his way on the Islands he gets it. Though it were
ten times a week, he'd get it, and no one nowadays strong enough to
stand up to him."

"My dear Mrs. Banfield!"

But Mrs. Banfield was not to be checked. "He's a tyrant," she declared,
her voice rising shrilly; "and I'd say it a hundred times, though I went
to the lock-up for it. He's a tyrant: and you, sir, are too simple-minded
to cope with 'em. Yes, yes--'a Christian gentleman'--everyone grants it
of you, and--saving your presence--everyone is sorry enough for it. You
wouldn't hurt a fly, for your part. Man, woman, or child, you'd have
every soul in the Islands to live neighbourly and go their ways in
peace. No doubt 'tis good Gospel teaching, too, and well enough it
worked till this rumping little tyrant came along and pushed you aside.
Goodness comes easy to you, sir, I reckon; but it bears hard upon us
poor folk that want someone to stand up for us against injustice."

"The Lord Proprietor, Mrs. Banfield, has a strong will of his own; but
I certainly never heard that he was unjust."

"Then you haven't heard, sir, what's happening over on Saaron?"

"On Saaron, ma'am?"

"On Saaron, sir.... Eh? No, to be sure.... Folks may suffer on the
Islands in these days, but what use to tell the Governor? He was good
to us in his time, but now he has cut himself off from us with his own
troubles.... Did anyone tell you, sir, the text that old Seth Hicks
preached from, over to St. Ann's, at the last service before the Lord
Proprietor closed the Meeting House? 'I will lift up mine eyes,' said
he, 'to the hills, from whence cometh my help,' and then, having given
it out, the old fellow turned solemn-like t'ards the window that looks
across here to Garrison Hill. 'Amen,' said some person in the
congregation; 'but 'tis no use, brother Seth, your seeking in that
quarter.'"

The Commandant, who had set down his basket, lifted it again wearily.
"Mrs. Banfield," said he, "won't you at least put it down to my credit
that, having (as you say) my own troubles, I don't bother my neighbours
with 'em?"

"Why, bless your heart, sir--that ever I should say it--that's what
hurts us sorest! We can fit and fend along somehow, never you mind; but
when for years you shared our little tribylations and taught us,
forrigner, tho' you were, to be open with 'ee as daylight, it do seem
cruel that you can't enjoy a bit of trouble on your own account but you
must take it away and hide it."

The Commandant's eyes moistened suddenly. "Is that how the Islanders
look at it, Mrs. Banfield?"

"It is, sir."

"Well, well," said the Major. "I never guessed.... I am a blind old
fool, it seems. But"--and here, blinking away the moisture, he smiled
at Mrs. Banfield almost gaily--"I can begin at once to make amends. The
luggage that went up the hill, just now, belongs to--to a friend of
mine--a visitor who will be my guest for a short while at the Barracks.
And this"--he tapped the basket--"is for my friend's breakfast. In
exchange for this information you shall tell me now what is the matter
over at Saaron."

"The matter is, the Lord Proprietor has given the Tregarthens notice."

The Commandant's eyes grew round in his head as he stared at Mrs.
Banfield, who answered by nodding her head briskly, as though each nod
was the tap of a hammer driving home a nail.

"What? Eli Tregarthen--that married Cara's younger daughter--that used
to live--" The Commandant recited this much in the fashion of a child
repeating "The House that Jack Built." His gaze wandered past Mrs.
Banfield to the blue-painted doorway behind her.

"It don't matter, that I can see, where the woman used to live," said
Mrs. Banfield; "but it do matter to my mind that a Tregarthen has
farmed Saaron for six generations, and now 'tis pack-and-go for 'em."

"But why?"

"Why?" echoed Mrs. Banfield, fiercely. "Because, as you was tellin'
just now, sir, my lord has a strong will. Because my lord wants Saaron
for his own. Because he wants to shoot rabbits. Because rabbits be of
more account to him than men--and I don't blame him for it, seein' that
all the men on the Islands be turned to mice in these days. Oh, 'tis an
old tale! But there! You never heard of it. You never heard--not
you--that the man was even unjust!"

"But, my dear Mrs. Banfield----"

"Go'st thy ways, good Governor. You was the poor man's friend--one
time; but now there's too much Christianity in you.... And no more will
I answer until you tells me who your guest is, that eats two breakfasts
in one morning."

The Commandant gazed at her in mild surprise. Doubtless he would have
asked the meaning of this cryptic utterance; but at this moment the two
seamen from the _Milo_ issued forth from the gateway up the road; and,
descending a few paces, turned to call back farewell to Mrs. Treacher,
who, having escorted them so far, halted under the arch and stood, with
hands on hips, to watch them out of sight.

"Wish 'ee well, I'm sure!" said Mrs. Treacher. "You understand we be
poor people in these parts."

"Don't mention that, ma'am," said one of the seamen, politely.

"There's no talk of favours, as between us and Madame," called out the
other.

They passed the Commandant and saluted. On a sudden it struck him that
these men would expect a small monetary acknowledgment for their
trouble; and hastily nodding good-morning to Mrs. Banfield and Mrs.
Medlin, he ran staggering up the slope to the gateway.

"Mrs. Treacher!" he panted, dumping down his burden, "I--er--it so
happens that I have no small change about me."

"Me either," said Mrs. Treacher, idiomatically, and bent over the
basket. "What's this?"

"You will forgive my mentioning it, Mrs. Treacher; but these good
fellows very likely expected a sixpence or so for their trouble. If you
wouldn't mind lending me back--for a short time only, a couple of
shillings out of the four that--that I----"

"Very sorry, sir," said Mrs. Treacher, "but I spent 'em."

"What! Already?"

"Which I didn't like," pursued Mrs. Treacher, stonily, "to insult the
lady's stomach with the kind of eatables I found in the larder. So
while you was away, sir, I took the liberty to slip down to
Tregaskisses and lay out three shillings. Which, finding no one in
charge but that half-baked boy of his, I got good value for the money;
and a sight better bacon than this, I don't mind saying--for all you
have been so lavish."

She peered into the basket and looked up sharply. It was a
cross-examining look, and seemed to ask where he had found the money
for all this extravagance. The Commandant, evading it, turned and
stared down the road, where already the two seamen had passed out of
sight.

"You needn't mind them, sir," said Mrs. Treacher, reassuringly. "It's
light come and light go with sailors."

Nevertheless, when the Commandant turned to accept the assurance, half
eagerly and yet less than half convinced, she would not meet his eye;
but picked up the basket and staggered along with it to the Barrack
door. "There's a saying," said Mrs. Treacher, eagerly, halting there,
"that sufficient for the day is the evil thereof. I've found it
comforting before now. But it don't seem to allow for three meals per
diem; and how to make bacon and eggs for dinner look different from
bacon and eggs for breakfast is a question that'll take thought. You
didn't happen to think upon cheese, now?"

"I did," said the Commandant, triumphantly. "There's half a pound of
cheese--the very best Cheddar--or, so Tregaskis assured me."

"Tregaskis!" Mrs. Treacher put down her nose and sniffed the basket.
"Tregaskis never sold better than third-class American in all his
life."

"She comes from America," the Commandant hazarded.

"I shouldn't advise you to build on that," said Mrs. Treacher,
dubiously; "but we'll hope for the best; and with beer in the place of
tea it mayn't look altogether like breakfast over again."

He was stepping into the passage when she touched his sleeve in sudden
contrition.

"I didn't mention it before, sir; but hearing as the sailors had
brought up her boxes, she outs with this and asks me to give it to them
for their trouble."

Mrs. Treacher held out a golden sovereign. The Commandant stared at it.

"You kept it back?" he gasped.

"I had to, sir. A couple of ignorant seamen--that didn't want it,
either!"

"Give it to me!"

"There's one blessing--you can't possibly overtake 'em," said Mrs.
Treacher, as the Commandant snatched the coin.

He gazed down the hill, and decided that to this extent she was right.
With one hand gripping the sovereign, and the other lifted to his
distraught brow, the Commandant strode to the room where Vashti sat at
breakfast. She looked up and welcomed him with a gay smile.




CHAPTER XI

PLAN OF CAMPAIGN


Vashti sat on the low stone wall beyond the Keg of Butter Battery and
gazed out over the twinkling Sound and the Islands. The wall ran along
the edge of the cliff and moreover was ruinous, as the Commandant had
cautioned her when she chose her perch.

For a while she did not appear to have heard him, but sat with lips
half-parted as though they drank in their native air, and with eyes
half-closed--but whether in mere delight or because through the present
they were looking into the past, the Commandant could not determine.
She had invited him after breakfast to conduct her round the old
fortifications, and he had done so in some dread of her questions and
comments. But she had asked scarcely a question and made no comment at
all. She was thinking less of the change in his batteries and defences
than of the change in him, as with a deeper knowledge of women he might
have divined. In the inanimate work of man's hands woman takes no real
interest, whatever she may feign, but of man himself she is insatiably
curious and critical. So while the Commandant, moving with her from one
battery to another, had halted and stared down on the grass-grown
platforms, ashamed and half-afraid lest by lifting his eyes he should
challenge her pity, he missed to perceive and missed altogether to
guess that hers were occupied in taking note of him, of his thread-bare
coat, of the stoop of his shoulders, of the whitened hair brushed back
from his temples.

They had made the round of the batteries in almost complete silence;
and coming to the wall above the Keg of Butter she had perched herself
there and bent her eyes seaward.

She may or may not have been aware that this gave him opportunity to
take stock of her in his turn, and that he was using it very
deliberately, letting his gaze travel over her profile, or so much of
it as she presented to him, and so from point to point of her attire
down to her well-made walking shoes--all with a kind of grave wonder.
Once only he glanced up and to the northward, where low on the horizon
a faint line of smoke lingered in the wake of the _Milo_, already
hull-down on her way; and his glance seemed to ask for assurance that
he was not dreaming, that the steamship had really come and gone and
left him this unaccountable guest.

It was just at this moment that she answered him.

"Yes, I can easily understand that you feel it," she said in a musing
tone.

"Eh?" The Commandant had almost forgotten his warning about the ruinous
state of the wall. His eyes had wandered back from the horizon to the
close coils of hair above her neck and to the lobe of her small ear
which (as he found himself noting) had never been pierced to admit an
earring. She turned, and as she caught his gaze he blushed in no little
confusion.

With the point of her sunshade she indicated the deserted battery on
his left.

"Though I suppose," she went on, still musing, "all these
fortifications were really out of date for years before Government
dismantled them."

"If that were true," he replied, "it would date my uselessness further
back than ever."

"Your uselessness?" she echoed, and now it was her eyes that expressed
a grave wonder. "But you were Governor of the Islands; and you are
Governor still, are you not?"

"These batteries," he went on hastily, "though antiquated, were never
out of date, never useless; and there will be reason enough to regret
them if ever an enemy's squadron makes a pounce on the Islands."

"Poor little Islands!" Vashti looked across the Sound with a smile. "It
seems almost comic somehow that anyone should dream of attacking them!"

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