Therefore, my dear, I have decided to fall in with your plan, and only hope that it will turn out as well as you seem to expect. It will be a great change and a great trial; but since you seem to have set your heart upon it, I am willing to adopt your plans instead of my own, and we will therefore consider it settled that we will go to New Zealand."
Mrs. Renshaw was too wise a woman to point out that her husband had not, so far as she was aware, any plans whatever of his own, and she contented herself by saying quietly: "I am glad you have decided so, my dear. I do think it is the best thing for us all, and I am quite sure it is the best for Wilfrid and Marion. If it had not been for them I should have said let us take a tiny cottage near some town where I might add to our income by giving lessons in music or other things, and you might have the companionship of people of your own tastes; but, being as it is, I think it far better to give them a start in a new country, although I know that such a life as we shall lead there must entail, at any rate at first, some hardships, and the loss of much to which we have been accustomed."
Wilfrid and Marion were delighted when they heard from their mother that the matter was settled. Both had had great hopes that Wilfrid's scheme would be finally accepted, as there did not seem any other plan that was possible. Still Wilfrid knew the difficulty that his father would have in making up his mind, and feared there might be a long delay before he could bring himself to accept the plan proposed to him. Mrs. Renshaw, who was a good business woman, lost no time in arranging with Robert and William Grimstone as to their accompanying them. Their passage-money was to be paid, and they were to bind themselves to remain for three years in Mr. Renshaw's service on wages similar to those they would have obtained at home; after that, they were to be paid whatever might be the colonial rate of wages.
The excitement that the prospect of emigration caused to the young people lessened their pain at leaving the house where they had been born and brought up, with all its pleasant associations and material comforts. It was, however, very trying to them when they bade good-bye for the last time to their surroundings and shook hands with their old servants.
"If ever we get rich in New Zealand, father," Wilfrid said, "we will come back and buy the house again."
Mr. Renshaw shook his head. Just at present he was disposed to regard himself as a martyr, and considered that he had made an unprecedented sacrifice of his own wishes and comforts for the sake of his children, and that no good could be expected to arise from the plan to which he had consented. A good many friends had gathered at the station to say good-bye, and it was some time after the train had started on its way to London before any of the party felt themselves inclined to speak.
On arriving in town they went at once to lodgings they had engaged in Eastbourne Terrace, facing the station. Once settled there, no time was lost in making preparations for their voyage. The files of the advertisements had already been searched and the names of the vessels sailing for New Zealand and the addresses of their owners noted, and after paying a visit to several shipping offices the choice of vessels remained at last between the Flying Scud and the Mayflower. They were vessels of about the same size, both bore a good reputation as sailers, and they heard excellent accounts of the captains who commanded them.
The Mayflower was to sail direct to Wellington round the Cape. The Flying Scud was taking in cargo for Rio and Buenos-Ayres, and would proceed thence via Cape Horn. Her rates of passage were somewhat lower than those of the Mayflower, as the route via the Cape of Good Hope was that more generally used, and the number of passengers who had secured berths by her were very much smaller than those who intended to travel by the Mayflower. It was this that principally decided them in choosing the western route; Mr. Renshaw was in a depressed and nervous state, and his wife considered that he would be far more comfortable with a comparatively small number of fellow-passengers than in a crowded ship.
Marion quite agreed with her mother; and Wilfrid was also in favour of the Flying Scud, as he thought it would be pleasant to break the passage by putting into the great South American ports and getting a glimpse of their inhabitants. Mr. Renshaw himself was quite satisfied to accept his wife's decision, whatever it might be. The Flying Scud was therefore selected, and passages for the party secured in her.
CHAPTER II
THE EMBARKATION
The Flying Scud was to sail in ten days; and this was ample time for their preparations, for Mrs. Renshaw wisely decided that it was better to buy all that was requisite for starting their new life, in New Zealand.
"We have none of us the least idea what will be required," she said. "It will be far better to pay somewhat higher prices for what we really do want out there than to cumber ourselves with all sorts of things that may be useless to us. We have already a considerable amount of baggage. There are our clothes, linen, and books, your father's two double-barrelled guns, which, by the way, I do not think he has ever used since we have been married. The only thing we had better get, as far as I see, will be four rifles, which no doubt we can buy cheap second-hand, and four revolvers.
"I do not for a moment suppose we shall ever want to use them, but as we may be often left in the house alone I think it would be pleasant to know that we are not altogether defenceless. We had better lay in a good stock of ammunition for all these weapons. Besides the clothes we have we had better get serge dresses and suits for the voyage, and a few strong servicable gowns and suits for rough work out there. Beyond this I do not think that we need spend a penny. We can certainly get everything we shall want for our new life at Wellington, which is a large place."
On the morning of the day on which they were to embark the Grimstones came up from Reading. All the heavy luggage had been sent on board ship on the previous day, and at twelve o'clock two cabs drove up to the side of the Flying Scud in St. Catherine's Docks. The one contained Mr. and Mrs. Renshaw, Marion, and a vast quantity of small packets inside. Wilfrid was on the box with the driver, and the roof was piled high with luggage. The other cab contained the two Grimstones and the rest of the luggage. The Renshaws were already acquainted with the ship in which they were to sail, having paid her a visit four days previously to see their cabins. The parents had a comfortable cabin to themselves. Marion was berthed in a cabin with two other ladies, who, she learned, were sisters, the elder about her own age, and Wilfrid found he would have but one fellow-passenger. The Grimstones were in the steerage forward.
The vessel was in a state of bustle, and what to the travellers seemed confusion. Numbers of other passengers were arriving, and the deck was littered with, their luggage until it could be sorted and sent down to their cabins; late cargo was being swung on board and lowered into the hold. On the deck aft were gathered the cabin passengers, with relatives and friends who had come to see them off. An hour later the bell rang as a signal for all visitors to go ashore. There were sad partings both fore and aft as the bell clanged out its impatient signal.
"I am very glad, mother, that we have no friends to say good-bye to us here, and that we got that all over at Reading."
"So am I, Wil. I think it much better myself that these partings should be got through before people leave home. It is natural of course that relatives and friends should like to see the last of each other, but I think it is a cruel kindness, and am glad, as you say, that we had no dear friends in London. Those at home have already shown their thoughtfulness and friendship." For indeed during the last few days hampers of presents of all kinds had arrived in a steady flow at Eastbourne Terrace. There had been great feeling of commiseration among all their acquaintances at the misfortune that had befallen the Renshaws; and the manner in which they had at once surrendered everything for the benefit of the shareholders of the bank, and the calmness with which they had borne their reverses, had excited admiration, and scarce a friend or acquaintance but sent substantial tokens of their good-will or sympathy.
As soon as it was publicly known that the Renshaws were about to sail for New Zealand, the boys and masters of the grammar-school
