It would be difficult if not impossible to convey to the reader the consternation that fell upon Captain Taber’s mind when the decision of his fellows were made known to him. How he fought against, not only their sentence, but his own convictions, for during the long hours that he had lain there sensible that the strength and vigour that he once possessed had gone from him and gave no sign of returning, he had been compelled to acknowledge that at last he had, as he put it, come up against a difficulty that he could neither get around nor leap over. And as soon as they were gone, he turned his face to the bulkhead and shed the bitter tears of a strong soul compelled to admit complete defeat.
And then came a gleam of comfort. In his dire distress of mind he thought of C. B., the gentle Christian man, who without making any special effort had twined round his heart strings, who through great and undeserved trials had still retained his serenity of soul, and he felt that here indeed was a man that he could turn to in his hour of need, one who would be able to impart to him some of that inner calm that seemed proof against all outward disturbance however great. Man fashion he hardly thought of the source of that calm, as we enjoy the warmth of a fire in winter without feelinggrateful to the elements which make the fire possible. But for that we may not blame him, since he is in this respect so completely at one with the great majority of mankind.
A dim indefinite purpose was shaping itself in his mind, but he did not try to bring it into concrete form, he just laid back upon his pillow exhausted and went to sleep, being indeed almost made worse by the mental strain of the last few hours. And Mr. Winsloe, coming down softly to inquire after his welfare, seeing that he was resting, tip-toed up again. He, the mate, was quite insensibly bettered by this series of happenings, for although, like all other mates, he had ambitions, longed to command a ship, he actually forgot all about the possible benefit to himself, forgot the strong words addressed to him by the skipper in Oahu, forgot all his previous bitterness against C. B. in sorrow for the sympathy for his sorely stricken friend. As yet, however, he had refused to contemplate the possibility of Captain Taber becoming a helpless invalid for life. Terrible though he knew his injuries to be, he had been accustomed to seeing so many what we should call miraculous recoveries, that the fact of his skipper being alive and his wounds healed seemed to him the best evidence that presently he would resume command as if nothing had happened.
None of the visiting skippers had said anything to him about the decision they had come to, so that at the most he only contemplated an enforced holiday for the skipper on shore here while he took the ship for a cruise and came back with a big catch of oil to find the skipper awaiting him in the very prime and vigour of health. These ideas of his were to receive a rude shock that very afternoon.
While all hands were quietly busy and a partyashore were filling casks with water, the soft musical cry of “Sail ho!” was raised. And round the North Head came one of the dandies of the high seas, a British corvette. She had just paid a visit to this out-of-the-way place in the course of a surveying cruise, because—well, because it is necessary in the interests of the world’s commerce that British men-o’-war shall thus patrol the seas and record their observations, an immense duty imposed upon the British Navy which is all too often forgotten by its calumniators, and those who clamour for its starvation and eventual abolition. Poor little one-idea’d men, what a pity it is that their power for harm isn’t limited as is their power for good.
She had not been at anchor very long before Captain Swift of theCoral, deputed by his brother-captains, boarded her and begged that her surgeon would have the goodness to visit theEliza Adamswith him, and give an opinion upon the state of her suffering captain. With that ready courtesy so characteristic of British Naval officers, the request was immediately complied with, and presently Mr. Winsloe saw approaching theCoral’sboat with the captain of theCoraland a Naval officer, who on mounting the side was introduced to him as Doctor Devine of the British warshipFame. Informed of their errand, Mr. Winsloe gravely led the way below, where the doctor made an exhaustive examination of Captain Taber, at the conclusion of which, and after hearing the history of the accident, he gave it as his opinion that it was hardly short of miraculous that Captain Taber was alive at all, but that he certainly would never be able to pursue his calling again.
Captain Taber then, in a firm voice, requestedthe doctor to tell him how long he had to live. “That, my dear sir, is a question that I would answer you as frankly as you have asked it were it in my power. But I cannot tell. There have been most extensive internal injuries in addition to those that are apparent, and what their effect may be in the future is a matter of conjecture only. You may live to a green old age with great care and attention, and you may only live a week or two. All I can tell you I have told you, and I should certainly advise you to relinquish your command at once and proceed homeward by easy stages and in as much comfort as you can get. I am deeply sorry that I can say nothing more hopeful and pleasant, but I can see that you are a man who is well fortified in the best possible way against any fortune. Good-bye, sir, and may you have a pleasant and easy journey home.” And the genial doctor was taken back to his ship with a story for the wardroom that attracted the deepest attention from his fellows.
He had been gone but a very short time when Captain Taber, having made up his mind, sent for Winsloe and said—
“Now, my dear fellow, I’m going to hand the ship over to you, and hope with all my heart that you’ll have a rattling good time for the rest of the cruise. Everything is in order, and you know quite as much about the affairs of the ship as I do, so there is no need for me to worry you or myself with going over them. Next, I want you to send C. B. to me. I feel that as I cannot travel alone there is no one to whom I could more safely entrust myself than him, and I want to arrange with him.”
Winsloe signified assent, and going on deck passed the word for C. B., telling him that the captainwished to see him. C. B. obeyed on the instant, and seated himself at the captain’s side at his request.
“Christmas,” said the suffering man impressively, “the doctor has confirmed what my friends the captains of the other ships have told me, that I am done, my career as a whaling skipper is over, and I am bound to agree with them; for I mustn’t betray the interests of my owners by spoiling the ship’s voyage. They have also told me that the sooner I get home with as little exertion as may be, the better chance I have of life. Now, I can’t travel alone, and I sent for you to learn whether you are willing to take the burden of an invalid broken man on your young shoulders, and give up your chance of making a good pay-day here. Will you come with me and look after me for such small pay as I am able to offer you, nothing in comparison with what your services are worth; but I am a poor man, and I have a wife and three youngsters in Fairhaven, who will need every cent that I can scrape together for the lean years I see before me?”
It was some little time before C. B. could answer, for, like all real Christians, he was exceedingly tender-hearted, and the sad spectacle of the suffering man before him touched him very deeply. But he recovered himself and answered—
“Captain Taber, I thought you knew how little store my people set by money. I did not come with you with any idea of making money, only that I felt that I must see the world and at the same time earn my own living. And if by doing what you ask I can repay your kindness to me, money need not be mentioned between us as long as I can get food enough to keep me alive and clothing such as is necessary. I shall be glad andproud to serve you with all my ability, and though I may be clumsy at first I hope to learn quickly.”
“Ah, my dear fellow,” faintly murmured the skipper, “there is far more than just body service I want from you. I want to learn the secret of your quiet happiness and I believe you can teach me. I’ve watched and wondered at you for a long time, envying you the peace that I saw you always enjoying, the power of living blamelessly in the midst of us ruffians and yet doing your work with the best of us. Perhaps the Almighty has given me this stroke in mercy because He saw that I would not give myself time to learn His ways without it. I don’t know, but He knows I’m willing to learn now, and with the prospect of having you with me I am quite resigned to what I at first felt would break my heart. So that’s settled. I’ll make inquiries now as to the method of getting from here to the States, to San Francisco, and thence across the Continent home, and as soon as I find out I’ll let you know. Now, I’m very tired again and I think I could sleep a little. God bless you, my boy, and I thank you with all my heart.”
As C. B. left the cabin to go on deck again he met Merritt, and one glance at his face gave him a feeling of terrible compunction. A flood of recollections rushed into his mind, the stern hatred and bitter jealousy that Merritt had shown to any one who he suspected of coming between him and the man he loved with an affection resembling that of the tigress for her cubs. What wouldhesay? More painful and important question still, what would he do? In this trouble he went to his unfailing resource. Sitting down on a spar in a dark corner he buried his face in his hands, and prayed forguidance in this most difficult matter, and for poor Merritt. He felt a keen pang at the thought that he had never been able to return the affection the fourth mate had lavished upon him in anything like the same measure. He had loved Merritt only as he had loved the skipper and a little more than he had loved any other member of the ship’s company, the only difference being that he had cherished a belief that he had been the means of humanizing that stern and vengeful nature by becoming the object of its fierce affection.
He lifted his head refreshed by his communion, and there, quite near to him, sat Merritt, having stolen up noiselessly. As soon as he looked up Merritt edged towards him and said in a hoarse, constrained voice—
“What’s the matter with ye, chum? Ain’t ye feelin’ good?”
“Oh yes, thanks,” replied C. B. somewhat wearily, “but I’m worried about you. I don’t know how you’ll feel when I’m gone.”
There was a painful pause for at least a minute and then Merritt said—
“Gone! Then I was right. I thought I heard the skipper say somethin’ to ye ’bout comin’ with him to look after him. So you’re goin’, an’ I shan’t see ye any more. Well, they’s one thing about it, you’ve softened me a lot, my boy, I k’n tell ye that; for if I was now as I have ben, I’d a killed you fust an’ myself after, I wouldn’t a ben separated from you. Now I don’t feel able to say a crooked word t’ ye. But I feel all gone in here, an’ I know for certain that I shall peg out mighty quick after you’re gone. I hain’t got nothing t’ live fur an’ I don’t want t’ live anyhow. When are ye goin’?”
“I don’t know,” answered C. B.; “it dependsupon the skipper getting a passage, I suppose; but don’t, chum, don’t talk like that.”
“Like what?” inquired Merritt harshly.
“About dying because I’m going away. It sounds awful; I can’t understand it.”
“Very well, I won’t because ye wish it, but as t’ yeer understandin’ it—how should ye? Never mind. Jest ask yer God t’ make it as easy fer me as He can an’ keep me tame, fer I feel as if I’d like to die fighting, run amok like a Malay. And for your sake I’d rather not do that.” And he rose and walked abruptly away, leaving C. B. bewildered and full of grief, yet on the whole relieved that Merritt had taken the tidings so quietly. And he lifted a heart full of thanksgiving to God.
Early the next morning Mr. Winsloe was considerably startled by seeing a smart boat from theFamecoming alongside, and going to the gangway, he received a gentleman in uniform, who introduced himself as Captain Silchester of theFame.
“I would like, sir,” said he, “to see your captain, who I regret to hear is so seriously ill.” And Mr. Winsloe immediately led the officer below.
Captain Taber was awake and glad to see his visitor, who, after exchanging compliments, proceeded to state the object of his visit. “My doctor has told me of your sad condition, and I have come to offer you a passage in my ship to Yokohama, which is our next port of call. From thence you will be able to get a steamer to San Francisco.”
Captain Taber smiled wanly and said—
“You are most kind, sir; you have greatly relieved my mind. I really did not see how I was going to get in the track of a fairly rapid passage home without wasting more of my owners’ time, which I am very loth to do. But I have a personalfriend and attendant who is going with me to look after me in my helplessness, can you extend your hospitality to him?” he inquired anxiously.
“Oh, I see no difficulty in that,” breezily answered the British captain; “in fact, I anticipated something of the sort and so was prepared for it. But will you be able to come on board to-morrow, for we sail in the afternoon?”
“Oh yes,” eagerly assented the skipper, “my preparations are practically all made. And now, sir, if you’ll allow me I’ll send for my friend, who is one of the finest fellows that ever God made, and let you see him.” And blowing a whistle that hung by his side the steward appeared. “Tell Christmas I want him,” ordered the skipper.
“Aye, aye, sir,” responded the steward, and in a couple of minutes C. B. stood before them.
In as short a time the skipper had explained matters to Captain Silchester, who greeted C. B. warmly and said—
“I believe I have seen you before when you were a boy of about ten. My visit to Norfolk Island in one of Her Majesty’s schooners is one of the happiest recollections of my life. Your father’s name, I believe, is Philip Adams?”
C. B.’s face brightened as he gladly answered, “Yes, sir, and did you meet my beautiful mother?”
Captain Silchester smiled at the eager, loving question and replied, “Yes, I had that honour and privilege, and I congratulate you upon your parents, young man. They are, I should say, the very salt of the earth. Well, I must not hinder you, sir,” to the captain; “you’ll have much to set in order, and I shall expect you on board sometime before 4 p.m. Good-bye.” And turning sharply he hastened on deck to avoid being thanked again.
But he was in no hurry, for once on deck he charmed Mr. Winsloe by asking to be shown over the ship and have her strange appliances explained to him, showing so much interest and appreciation that Winsloe was delighted and when he had gone, said to Spurrell, “Well, if all the Britishers was like that one I shouldn’t have no quarrel with them, I’m dead sure of that.”
“Ah,” said Spurrell, “there’s some good Britishers, but there’s an awful lot of shysters. Still, there’s good and bad of all sorts, I s’pose, and Britishers ain’t the worst by any odds.”
Then the whistle blew and Winsloe hurried aft to find the skipper quite excited at the near prospect of beginning his journey home. It took but little time to acquaint the mate with the British captain’s courteous offer, and then, with C. B.’s aid, the preparations for departure were begun. Neatly and methodically everything belonging to the skipper was packed, except his charts and navigational books, all of which he left to Winsloe. And so swiftly was the work done that by the time the skipper was wearied, that is in about an hour, everything was practically ready, and the two men left him to sleep again.
As they went softly on deck Mr. Winsloe said, “Well, Christmas, I needn’t ask you to do your best for the skipper, because I believe that no one could or would do better than you. I’ve never been able to like ye, for yeer too goody goody for me. But I’m free to admit that if I’d a had ten thousand men to pick and choose from, I’d have chosen you; this sort o’ thing’s right in your line. I s’pose your packing won’t take long?”
“No, sir,” cheerily answered C. B., “five minutes ’ll see me through; but I’d like if may to go forrard and say good-bye to the boys. I’m very fond of themall, and I hope none of them has got anything against me. I’d be very sorry to leave any hard thoughts of me behind.”
“Oh, certainly,” said the mate, “go an’ hold a prayer meetin’ if ye like, I’m sure I don’t care now. I can’t say that I saw any signs of yer wantin’ t’ do such a thing before, but if I had I should have stopped it, for I don’t want a crew too tender-hearted t’ kill a whale in this business. There, get along, boy, an’ make the most of yeer time.”
C. B. felt that he hardly understood the mate’s curious remarks, but he was glad of the permission, and going forrard he slipped down into the dark triangular space where the crew lived, a funny abode as shore-people would think for thirty-two men to spend all their leisure time in for nearly four years. To his modest surprise he was welcomed as if he had been an admiral, every man trying to show him some attention. And when all had settled down and had riveted their attention on him he said—
“Boys, I’m going to leave you, to look after the poor skipper on his long journey home. But I felt as if I couldn’t go without coming into your midst, and telling you how thankful I am to have got on so well with all of you. I feel that I haven’t done my duty by you in one respect: I might have tried to tell you something about the God I love, I might have tried to show you how much He loves every one of you and would, if you would let Him, make up to you the loss as you think it of most of the good things that people have ashore.
“As it’s too late to do that now I’ll ask you to forgive me for not doing it before, for being so selfish as to enjoy my communion with Him and not try to get others to share it. And if you’ll let me I’ll kneel down in the midst of you here and pray thatyou may all learn from him direct, how good He is in all His ways and how not one of you is forgotten by Him.” And without any further preliminary C. B. fell on his knees on the black planks, and said—
“Dear Father God, bless the good shipmates I’m leaving. They come from all parts of Thy world, but whether they know Thee or not, whether any one has ever spoken to them about Thee or not, they are all Thy well beloved children. Show Thyself to them in all Thy love, keep them in the hollow of Thy hand at all times, give them the assurance that Thou art their Father, and that Thy dear Son Jesus Christ is their Saviour. Bless all my dear shipmates, for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
It was over, and Yankee, Portuguese, and Kanakas stared at C. B. and each other with heavily throbbing hearts, as wondering what this might mean. Evidently they were half expectant, half afraid of some supernatural visitation, but as C. B. rose from his knees with a streaming face and they all followed his example, a big slab-sided Vermonter came over to C. B. and held out his hand saying—
“We’re all a lot of heathen, I’m afraid, but you’ve give us a better idea of God Almighty than any of us ever had or likely to have. This ship’s been better for you bein’ aboard. We shall be better for your little prayer here to-day. Now we’ll bid you good-bye,” and turning to the crew he said—
“Boys, all of us can say to him God bless you and keep you the same good clean strong man you’ve allus been amongst us. Ef you hain’t preached or prayed, you’ve done what’s harder than either, I guess. You’ve lived such a life as we’ve never seen lived before, and if we ain’t the better for it, ’tain’t any fault of yours. Good-bye and God bless ye.”
C. B. could only brokenly echo the blessing, and shaking hands all round, looked lovingly into each face with their variations of expression or utter want of expression. Then he climbed on deck again, feeling as if he had been through an ordeal of the toughest kind. And then he found he had to face his berthmates, who all appeared strange to him. It was just the old story—they had taken but scanty interest in him while he was one of themselves; now he was about to leave them they recalled numberless instances of his lovingkindness, patience, courage and industry, and were in danger of going to the opposite extreme. The three Yankee boat steerers shipped in Honolulu held aloof entirely. They knew very little of C. B., and probably felt some little pride of race, looking down on one whom they ignorantly took to be a mere Kanaka. But Chips, the cooper, cook, and steward, were for them unusually demonstrative, and each pressed upon C. B. some little memento, some piece of scrimshaw work to show that they remembered some act of kindness long ago forgotten by him.
When this part of his ordeal was over he was tired out and turned in, falling asleep on the instant. But he was aroused almost immediately as it seemed to him, though it was at 3 a.m., by a trembling hand laid upon him. He sprang up in his bunk with his hands outspread, and one of them was seized by the intruder, who said—
“It’s me, Merritt. Come on deck, I want t’ say good bye t’ ye.”
C. B. leaped out of his bunk and hurried after his chum, who drew him to a seat on a spar and said in a hollow strained tone—
“You’re goin’ away to-day, and before eight bells to-night I shall know whether the God you’re sofond of talkin’ about is as good as you say He is. Now don’t be skeered, I ain’t goin’ t’ kill myself, kase why—it’d hurt you. But I know I’m goin’ out as soon as I’ve seen the last of you, an’ I do think I’ve got a good opinion of your God because of knowing that. He knows my life ain’t worth livin’ an’ He’s takin’ it away. If I wasn’t a poor ignorant heathen I’d tell Him how thankful I am, but I guess He’ll know.”
To attempt any description of the talk that ensued until dawn would be an impertinence, for one of the men, though such a Christian as the greatest exponent of Christianity among us might envy, was, in all his ideas and knowledge, simple as a little child, while the other, deeper in darkness than the most debased Pagan, could only see one fact, for such it was to him, that he was to die immediately after the parting. It did not trouble his thoughts for one moment, any more than it would that of the faithful dog who only lives in his master’s life, and dies of a broken heart when that master is removed.
So they sat hand in hand till dawn, they took the five o’clock coffee together, with dim ideas in C. B.’s mind of it being a sort of sacrament, and then as the mate’s loud call of “Turn to” echoed along the decks Merritt simply rose from C. B.’s side and said—
“Good-bye, chum. I’ll be glad to find that what you say is true, an’ that I sh’ll see you again in another life. I don’t understand it, but it sounds good. Now I shall keep out of yer way till yer gone, so good-bye.”
At three o’clock p.m. the skipper was carried from his bunk well wrapped up, and placed in his boat, which was lowered with her gunwale level with the rail for the purpose. C. B. jumped in by his side and stood by to steady him as the boat was lowered. Thecrew followed and the boat shoved off, but as she did so all hands but one swarmed to the rail and rigging, and gave a round of cheers, at which both the skipper’s and C. B.’s eyes brimmed over. But C. B. noted what Captain Taber did not; that in that crowd of faces Merritt’s did not appear. He was found four hours later in his bunk, dead, without a sign about him to show why he had gone.
And now behold C. B. launched upon a totally new series of adventures, but still with that same quiet mind which accepted the events of each new day as being all ordained by God, and consequently fraught with blessing, no matter how hard it might be for him to see the benefit at the time. Hitherto I have said nothing about his feelings with regard to those whom he so fondly loved and from whom he had of course heard no word. But when he left them both he and they had resigned themselves to a complete separation without any communication until God should please to reunite them again. Letters never came to that isolated, self-contained little community, who indeed seldom had any interest outside of their own boundaries.
Yet it must not be supposed that for one day, hardly for a waking hour, he ever forgot them. In his lonely vigils at the mast-head, or when by himself at night, he looked out over the wide expanse of sea, he always formed a mental picture of the peaceful happy home he had left, saw his mother and father and friends at their simple tasks, heard their united praises arising in the sweet evenings, imagined their discussions concerning his whereabouts, until he almost fancied himself among them in spirit, so vivid was his inner vision. And often it was with a physical pang that he came back to his present surroundings.
It must not for a moment be supposed either that he felt great delight at leaving the ship, for he was in no way weary of his life on board. But he calmly awaited each development as being just the right thing for him, and indeed felt that in this latest move he was likely to be of more use than he had ever been before. Besides, as I have before hinted, he and his fellow-islanders were passionately attached to the mother-country which they had never seen, and had consequently idealized almost out of all reasonable recognition. The nearest approach to realization of Britain that they could get was found in a British man-o’-war, and when he stepped on board of theFameand saluted the invisible presence on the quarter deck, he felt strangely uplifted at the thought that he was privileged to sail in one of those wonderful vessels.
With greatest kindness and courtesy Captain Taber had been carried to a cabin specially prepared for him; everything that he could want as far as was in their power to supply it was at his disposal, and when C. B. had got him comfortably bestowed and his belongings all safely at hand he said—
“Thank ye, dear fellow, now go and leave me to sleep, for I feel very tired, and you’ll be glad, I know, to see what’s going on about the deck, all so different to what you’ve been used to.” So C. B. slipped away and watched with a queer feeling of pride, as if he had a share in the great business, the ordered method of getting under weigh, the rapidity which characterized every evolution and the perfect discipline.
Seaman-like his fingers itched to be helping, but he knew better than to interfere, and moreover everything was so utterly strange and new. Not the least wonderful of his new surroundings to him was the steam engine. It is hard indeed for us torealize what it meant to this intelligent man, British to the back-bone, and in some directions well educated, but in others, notably in the appliances of civilization, as ignorant as any savage from the island homes of his maternal ancestors.
His gentle ways and pleasant speech soon made him a prime favourite, and though the lower deck was mightily puzzled at his strange dislike to grog and tobacco, they put it down simply to his want of acquaintance with those luxuries. Anyhow they made a great pet of him, and listened to his simple stories of island life and whaling, interspersed as they were with loving reference to the Fatherly care of God and the happiness of knowing Him, with growing interest and appreciation. Nor was this interest confined to the lower deck. The officers were just as keen, and though thoughtless and careless as so many sailors are who feel that religion enters officially into their lives at stated times, but need not be bothered about except then, they all admitted that this young man was to them a new type altogether outside their experience. Some scoffed at the idea of his being genuine, saying that it was all put on for a certain purpose, and watched him keenly to detect hypocrisy. But it was impossible to maintain such an attitude towards him for long, in view of his perfect devotion to his charge and his absolute lack of pose.
He fell eagerly into his new role of nurse and valet, and the captain grew to lean on him more and more each day, to long for his pleasant words and to enjoy, in a measure that seemed to him amazing when he thought about it, the simple reading of the Bible stories and the common-sense comment, often quaint beyond description, that C. B. indulged in. Only it made the matter real and vivid to the mindof the listener as it had never been before, brought him face to face with the actors in the great world drama unfolded in that amazing series of stories, and above all made him wonder how it had been possible for him to live so long in ignorance, and with so much time on his hands, too, of the treasures contained within the covers of the ordinary little volume. For let them deny it who dare, the most talked of and the least intelligently read of any book in the world is the Bible. And from the point of view of literature alone it does not deserve to be so treated.
In consequence largely of the novelty of the position to the passengers and the interest felt in them by the crew, the passage of theFameto Yokohama, though rather long in point of time, was felt to be short by all, so much so that a distinct sense of disappointment was felt by all as the time for parting drew near. The sick man, though the object of devoted attention by the ship’s doctor, fully justified that gentleman’s prediction by making little or no progress. He could not be said to be any worse, but his strength would not come back, and he had many hours of severe pain internally. But his appetite was fairly good and his spirits had recovered their normal serenity. He had become very much attached to the ship where he had been so kindly welcomed, and endeavoured to express his gratitude, but his genial hosts pooh-poohed the idea of his being under any sort of obligation to them; they said that his company had been a boon conferred upon them, and that they had learned more of little understood sea-ways since he and C. B. had been with them than they had ever dreamed of being possible.
And so they parted with the best of good will onboth sides, and a certain definite effect of goodness impressed upon all hands by their contact with C. B., which none of them were ever able to forget quite as long as they lived. Very gently and tenderly the helpless skipper was conveyed ashore, and to the best hotel in the City, there to await the coming out of the steamer that sailed between Hong Kong, Yokohama, and San Francisco. The American Consul had been apprised of Captain Taber’s coming, and paid him an early visit of condolence and comfort, promising to do all in his power to aid him, and to convey to Captain Silchester his most cordial thanks for the timely help rendered to his suffering countryman.
C. B. was full of wonderment at the new and strange scenes around him, but saw little of them, for nothing would persuade him to leave his friend for more than a few minutes at a time. He did not lightly construe the terms of his service, and when ordered with playful vehemence by the skipper to go away and leave him to himself for a few hours he never went beyond an easy call. But he got a great deal of interest in observing the quaint manners of the Japanese, who seemed to him to be almost denizens of another world to that which he had hitherto known. Their courtesy, cleanliness and ability appealed to him very much, but he wondered with painful intensity how they could be apparently so happy and good without knowing anything of God. And then he had an interview with a clerical gentleman belonging to the Established Church, who was on his travels round the world, and being an inmate of the hotel called upon the captain.
The latter introduced C. B. as his friend as well as personal attendant, and Mr. Vinter, the clergyman, made the almost unpardonable mistake of treatingour hero as if he was an ignorant Kanaka, that is without a touch of kindliness or sympathy as of a being infinitely high and wise, but without love, to another very low and foolish. C. B. not being at all sensitive and full of reverence for the man of God as he thought him, began to talk freely upon the things of God as he had never been able to do since he left his home, where they were in everybody’s mouth as the most frequent topic. To his utter amazement and to the captain’s indignation the clergyman listened for a while with a gradually contracting brow, and presently said severely—
“You should be less fluent and more reverent about holy things. You cannot understand them, it is not possible that you should. You must learn to leave such discussion as you have ventured to indulge in to those who like myself are set apart as chosen ministers of the Gospel.”
Had it not been so sad it would have been ludicrous to see the open-mouthed stare of utter amazement with which C. B. regarded his new mentor. For what he now heard from the mouth of a man whom he was ready to regard as directly commissioned by God was to the effect that the whole teaching of his life had been wrong. He dimly felt that this man wished him to understand that so far from a close acquaintance with and an intimate knowledge of God and the things of His kingdom being right and according to His will, it was necessary to regard Him as unapproachable except through a certain specially ordained class, and that the sweet familiarity with Jesus which he had always been taught and had understood from his Testament to be the end and the aim of the Saviour’s teaching was irreverent and wrong.
And then, to his great relief, the helpless skippercame to his rescue, saying with clear and energetic voice—
“Forgive me, Mr. Vinter, if I seem rude, and allow me the privilege of a man with one foot in the grave. I’ve learned more of God in a few months’ acquaintance with this dear man than in all the rest of my life. You gentlemen talk about God mostly too in language that a plain man can’t understand, this man lives Him, has done ever since he came aboard my ship. I’d rather have him with me, as far as the education of my soul is concerned, than all the priests and clergy in the world. And you call him irreverent! But so I s’pose you would have done Peter an’ James an’ John, an’ as for Paul, well there!”
Mr. Vinter made no reply, but rose with majestic gesture as of one who finds the air polluted and passed out, nor did they ever see him again. But the captain said cheerily—
“Git your Bible, Christmas, and read me that beautiful story again, beginning with ‘Then drew near all the publicans and sinners for to hear Him?’ I bet they did. They recognized the real thing same as I do, they’d had enough of Pharisees same as I have. And then people will be foolish enough to wonder why the Gospel don’t spread among the heathen! Why a man like that might easily make heathen, he’d certainly never make a Christian, he doesn’t know how to begin. Go on with your reading, dear boy.”
And in the comfort of the reading and the fellowship of his friend C. B. felt the wound that had been made in his soul by that foolish and injudicious man heal over. But he often returned to the subject and asked many questions of the skipper concerning the ways of the religious folk in America, and whetherit was really true that the great bulk of the people could be so foolish as to deny themselves so great a pleasure as he had always found it, and those whom he had grown up with, but was at last compelled to admit that it must be so though it was a profound mystery to him.
Happy man, knowing nothing of the thousand allurements of the civilized world, its mad rush after fortune and no less mad lavishing of its gettings upon things of no value. Happy in the coarse shirt and trousers, bare headed and shoeless, but well nourished and healthy, how could he understand the myriad artificial cravings that shut out from the soul all desire for true happiness, or how in his perfect faith in the love of God and His creation could he realize the awful fear of eternal punishment that prompted men into excesses of religiousness in order to escape from what they felt was the inevitable due of their misdeeds. Not knowing how great had been his privileges he was entirely unable to comprehend the difficulties of highly civilized man in matters of religion, and so was an ever fresh source of interest to the crippled man dependent upon him, who felt that he had never had leisure to think upon these things until now.
But gradually and unconsciously, as was his wont, he had endeared himself to all with whom he had come in contact in service at the hotel, so that when the big steamer arrived and the summons came for them to go aboard he had quite an ovation, all the little yellow men and women crowded around him in their gentle courteous fashion to wish him “Sayonara” and to offer him tiny souvenirs of their affection for the big kindly simple man who was so unlike any other stranger they had yet seen. In his modesty and utter absence ofself-consciousness he wondered much at his popularity, the real reason of it never occurring to him, for he had formed no friendships, had gone scarcely anywhere, feeling that his duty was always to be within hail of his beloved skipper.
And so in leaving he had no regrets, but cheerfully and hopefully assisted to carry Captain Taber on board of theGolden Gate, where by the influence of the Consul a special cabin had been reserved for the pair and all sorts of privileges arranged for also. She had a great many passengers going eastward to the Pacific Coast, wealthy folks travelling for pleasure, keen business men intent on making money, adventurers, but all apparently flush of money and eager for excitement. Amid this motley throng C. B. secured a good place on deck for his patient’s long chair, a point wherefrom the wonderful panorama unfolded as the ship steered seawards could be fully enjoyed. Here C. B., standing by the skipper’s side, guarded him from inquisitive intrusion and kept him amused by the quaint and original comments he made upon the novel scene.
But very soon, in spite of C. B.’s earnest efforts, the captain’s chair was the centre of a sympathizing and wondering group of Americans, who, having learned the skeleton of his sad story, were keen in their desire to help in any way they could a countryman whom they dimly suspected of being a hero, and that alone is sufficient with the most hero-worshipping people in the world to have made them flock to him. At last their attentions became so importunate and the questions so incessant that Captain Taber, holding up his attenuated hand for silence, said—
“Ladies and gentlemen, as you may see, I am not equal to the strain of satisfying your legitimatecuriosity, for I’m weaker than I care to admit even to myself. But if you’ll let my friend here, who, in spite of his dusky complexion, hasn’t got any of the nigger about him, but is a sure enough Englishman of the purest stock, tell you the story just as it happened, I can enjoy it as well as you. An’ I guess that he knows a good deal more about it than I do anyhow.”
The young ladies, who, as most people who have been in the United States know, are the usual arbiters in such cases, guessed “it would be perfectly lovely,” and with national promptitude settled themselves around at once and looked expectantly at C. B. He looked somewhat imploringly at the skipper, who only beamed on him and replied—
“Part o’ your duties ye know, Christmas, an’ I guess I don’t know anybody better qualified to perform ’em.”
That was quite sufficient for C. B., who, having seated himself by the skipper’s side, commenced the story at the point where he had returned to work. He had not been speaking a minute before he had everybody spellbound, for like so many other simple-minded unselfish men he had a natural gift of plain effective speech, not oratorical or rhetorical, but what the Americans call heart to heart talk.
For upwards of an hour he held the company almost breathless, and when at last he ceased with the simple remark “and so through the goodness of God we are thus far on our long journey,” there was a long breath and then an irrepressible burst of applause. Many of the ladies made no attempt to hide the fact that they had to wipe their eyes, and it would have been hard to say which of the two in their estimation was the greater hero, the skipperor C. B. And then the skipper brought matters to a climax by saying—
“You’ve heard the story, ladies and gentleman, beautifully told as I knew it would be, but far too favourable to me, in spots. As soon as I’m fit I’ll tell you the parts ’at he’s left out, and a few more things that you oughter know about him. Meantime let me say before God and this company that I believe the hull earth don’t contain a better man, a better Christian, with all that I’ve learned lately that means, than my dear friend Christmas Bounty Adams.”
Even this short speech, because it was delivered with rather more energy than usual, exhausted the enfeebled man, and he lay back in his chair breathless. C. B. immediately attended to him, looking round imploringly at the onlookers, who, taking the hint, at once melted away. But they carried away with them material enough for conversation to last them the passage apparently, the human interest in it entirely eclipsing that of the usual travel talk. But it must be admitted that the chief object of interest was C. B.; in the absence of accurate information concerning him the ladies formulated all sorts of fantastic theories, the excitement rising almost to fever heat during the luncheon hour.
At last, when the captain had been conveyed below, one of the girls, the only daughter of an immensely wealthy American, who was travelling with her mother and father, came up to C. B. who was resting himself, looking over the rail at the swiftly receding coast line. With that sweet insouciance which is the most charming feature of the American girl, she said—
“Say, Mr. Christmas, or is it Mr. Adams? we’re all just afire to hear the rest of that story of yours.We don’t want to trouble that poor captain, it would be too cruel to expect him to talk, but won’t you take pity on us and tell us your beautiful story?”
C. B. gazed down into the eager face with its big brown eyes and saw no vulgar curiosity there.
So after a moment or so of hesitation he replied, “Miss——”
“Oh, May Stewart’s my name,” she hastily remarked.
“Thank you, Miss Stewart,” he gravely interpolated and went on: “My dear mother always taught me to try and please people who didn’t want me to do anything wrong, and I am sure you don’t want me to do anything wrong. So I’ll tell you my story as far as I can, on the understanding that I’m free to leave off at any moment my captain wants me, for he is a sacred helpless charge.”
“That’s agreed on the instant,” she replied, “and I’ll bring the crowd along right now. I’m real glad, and I think it’s awfully good of you, for I do hate to be kept waiting for something that I feel I ought to know.”
“One moment, Miss Stewart,” said C. B., holding up a restraining hand. “If you’ve been weaving a mighty romance out of my story and making me its hero you’ll be gravely disappointed. All right, I’m ready whenever you are.”
Away fled the young lady, while C. B. took the opportunity of visiting his patient’s airy cabin to make sure that he was sleeping soundly and that everything about him was comfortable. Then he returned to the promenade deck, where such had been the energy of Miss Stewart that practically every passenger in the ship was present with the exception of half a dozen inveterate poker players who, I believe, would keep on at the monotonousbusiness if the first notes of the last trump were ringing in their ears. As soon as Miss Stewart saw C. B. she sprang impetuously towards him, dragged him through the crowd to an elevated seat she had got the quartermaster to prepare for him, and having seen him comfortably installed, sat down on deck by the side of her mother and waited for him to begin.
You all know the story, but of course as he told it much of the interest attaching to his doings evaporated because he would not say I did this or I did that, a modesty which he shared with many far less estimable men. But he did tell them all he could put into words about his lovely island home, his origin, the pursuits of the islanders and their happiness under the simple gospel of love. He told this with a manly simple eloquence which captivated his hearers and made even the most cynical and case-hardened of them feel that here was an idyllic state of things which was unknown to their cheap and feverish philosophies wrongly so called. And when at last he finished, so great was the interest that many questions were put to him by the elder men and women, all of which he answered with ease or owned that he didn’t know. How long this would have gone on only those who know the insatiable avidity of Americans in acquiring information upon some new topic could imagine, but happily for C. B. there suddenly appeared on the scene a Japanese waiter with the news that the captain was awake. And immediately C. B. slipped away.
Thenceforward this quiet unassuming child of nature was the idol of the ship. “Guess it’s a complete rest-cure to be near him,” was the verdict of one sallow owner of about a million dollars, who was fascinated by C. B. to such an extent that heforswore poker, and courted every chance to get a few words with a man whom he felt had the true secret of happiness. “Now,” said this keen business man, “ef this chap was advertising himself or startin’ a new religion, I’d be on to him in once, bigger ’n a elevator. But he ain’t, ’s far ’s he knows he’s the most ornery cuss there is around. ’N ’s far ’s I know he’s about the newest breed o’ man there is, an’ I’d like t’ get the recipe for a few more like him.”
But the girls gave C. B. the most trouble. It was hard to convince them that he was not the descendant of some dusky island potentate. That he was but the offspring of a common English seaman and some nameless Kanaka woman two or three generations back seemed impossible for them to believe, for they were never tired of descanting upon the stately grace of his form and the perfect unstudied beauty of his language. Secretly too they were all piqued by the fact that he paid none of them any special attention, was only gravely polite in a perfectly general sense. To the men though who sought him out and talked with him he was extremely open and genial, telling them frankly that he felt honoured by their condescension, until one day the captain, hearing him speak like this took him to task about it.
“Christmas,” he said, “they’s such a thing as bein’ too humble, makin’ yerself too cheap. You’ve no call to be so humble to these men. I ain’t got nothing to say against any of ’em, but I should say they ain’t one of ’em that’s fit to shine the boots of a good man like you are. Why, they don’t talk of nothin’ else, mornin’ noon or night, ’cept they’re talkin’ t’ you, but dollars and cents, how to pile ’em up as fast as they kin no matter by what method. Money’s their God, Christmas, and his worship means some practices that you’d shudder at. No,keep yer head up, my friend, you’ll never git too big fer your boots I’m sure, for I declare you’re the equal of any and the superior of most men in this world.” And the excited man sank back in his chair exhausted, while C. B. gently reproved him for thus exerting himself, and as soon as he was rested again told him quaintly how bashful he felt before the girls, especially Miss Stewart, who continually sought his company.
“How should I behave to them?” he inquired, at which the Captain laughed and replied—
“Ah, there I can’t give ye no advice, except to be mighty careful not to fall in love with one of ’em. I guess you wouldn’t want no lessons in humility if once you did that. For companionable as all these folks seem to be and eager to make a fuss of ye, if once you lifted your eyes to one of their women folk so as to desire her for a wife, they wouldn’t have words enough t’ cuss ye in, an’ they’re pretty glib as a rule.”
“Well, captain,” said C. B., “there’ll be no occasion. I am not at all likely to fall in love, as you call it, until I get back to Norfolk Island again, and certainly not while I have the happy privilege of taking care of you, God bless you.”
After all, the most important work of C. B.’s life was steadily progressing without hindrance of any kind, the spiritual education of Captain Taber. That fine man, in spite of his late advice to C. B. about humility, was now exceedingly humble himself and ready to admit his absolute indebtedness to C. B. for his present peace of mind, and what in religious terminology would be called his growth in grace. He certainly was in some respects an entirely changed man since his accident, although it must not for a moment be supposed that he was ever anything but just, kind and brave. It was only in the one thing needful that he was then lacking, and that had now been supplied through the agency of his friend, so that he had become a centre of spirituality from which continually emanated a sweet aroma of content and love of all mankind.
The captain and chief officer of theGolden Gatespent much time with Captain Taber, although it must be said that they did not take to C. B. very much. The sea tradition was strong with them, and as they looked upon C. B. as a sort of menial in his personal attendance upon the captain, they felt that discipline forbade them giving him any opportunity to impose. He never noticed their reserve, in fact he was almost impervious to the slights that most of us resent so much, because of his want ofself-consciousness, which went a long way to account for his happiness. As soon as either the captain or the mate came to have a yarn with his patient he would, first making sure that all was in order, retire on deck, where he was always in request, and remain there until his friend was alone again. In this way he made the acquaintance of nearly everybody in the ship and enjoyed himself very much, especially when the vessel drew into the bad-weather zone, and gales of wind with heavy seas kept the passengers below. But one afternoon, as he was engaged in earnest conversation with one of the quartermasters whose turn it was to look after the promenade deck, he saw with a thrill of horror a female emerge from the saloon, cross the deck to the lee rail, deliberately mount it and topple overboard. As soon as he had seen her making for the rail he started to run towards her, so that he was on the spot almost in time to catch her by her clothing. He just missed her, however, and with a roar of “Stop the ship!” that was heard high above the gale, he plunged after her. A few mighty strokes and he was by her side, only just in time to snatch her long hair and fight his way from the ship to avoid the indraught of the propeller, which if not stopped in time means awful mutilation to a body in the water, and the strongest swimmer coming within its vortex is entirely helpless.
The ship was stopped so promptly that he was but a couple of hundred yards away, but the sea was running very heavily with breaking crests, and great as was his strength and skill, the burden of a woman to support who could still struggle was a task that could not be endured for long. As usual in merchant ships, especially steamers in those days, the boats were secured as if they were never intendedto be used; not only so, but because of gross neglect the lashings and gripes were rusted and clogged with paint, while the boats themselves, never having been in the water for months nor having any water in them through being carefully covered in, were leaky as sieves.
Consequently it was nearly twenty minutes before the boat was in the water, and when she was, for lack of ability to handle her it looked for some time as if her lowering was going to cost several more lives. And all this time Captain Taber in his berth was suffering mental tortures, having been informed of the cause of the uproar by the Japanese berth attendant. Nor was his anxiety selfish. He could not bear the idea of his faithful friend being done to death like that, he to whom the water was as familiar as the dry land. At last in his agony he betook himself to prayer and was immediately comforted. Not only so but the quiet that had reigned for some time gave place to tramplings overhead and shoutings, showing that something had been or was being done.
It was fortunate that the vessel had stopped so promptly, as well as that she had such little way on her at the time, steaming as she was head to sea. Otherwise it would have been impossible to save the two lives owing to the bungling in boat handling. As it was, when the boat did reach them C. B. was just at the end of his resources, and when lifted into the boat was almost as far gone as the woman he had saved. Getting back to the ship, although she was handled with much skill, was a series of wonderful escapes, and but for the promptitude of the second mate, who suggested pouring a lot of oil over the lee bow as the boat was brought alongside, which smoothed the turbulent sea and permittedthem to hook on the boat with comparative ease, there must have been disaster.
The two rescued ones were lifted out of the boat in the presence of all the passengers, who had entirely forgotten their seasickness and debility in their anxiety. The bodies were borne below and the doctor worked upon the woman with the greatest perseverance, being at last rewarded by feeling her heart beat and some warmth come from her breast. From thence the task was easy, and the first to convey to the anxiously waiting skipper below was C. B. himself, who apologized for causing his beloved charge so much anxiety, but explained that he could not see the woman drown.
Then the skipper broke down, for he was very weak, and cried like a child, sobbing out that he had felt that if he had lost his friend he must have died too, and that he could never be sufficiently grateful to God for sparing him. While they were thus enjoying their reunion came the captain of the ship, who was visibly moved, and, holding out his hand to C. B., said—
“Young man, I’m proud to have you aboard my ship, for you are indeed a man. You may hardly believe it, but the husband of that lady whose life you have saved is only just aware of what has happened. Both he and she have been shockingly ill, for it seems that they are very bad sailors. And she, in addition to horrible seasickness, had a raging toothache, which must have driven her mad for the time. She says that she quite remembers jumping overboard, says it seemed to her to be the only way out of her misery, but she is very sorry indeed to have given so much trouble. Neither she nor her husband realize yet what the trouble has been, but their seasickness has left them and I guess you’llhear from them to-morrow. Hope you’re none the worse for your anxiety, Taber, now you’ve got your chum back again. Now I must be off, for the weather’s pretty bad still.” And he strode away.
Next morning the weather had become beautiful again and C. B., having seen his patient all right, was about to take a stroll forward when he was seized by a man with red eyes and wild air, who said—
“Are you the hero who preserved my dear one for me?”
C. B. was completely taken by surprise and stammered out something, he knew not what in reply. But almost immediately there came bustling round a crowd of the passengers, as full of excitement as if the ship had been on fire, and poor C. B. wished he was anywhere out of it. Still the man who had first accosted him kept hold of his hand, occasionally patting it and murmuring disjointed sentences, until at last the captain of the ship burst into the group, saying—
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, this isn’t fair to our friend. As for you, sir,” turning to the man who was still holding C. B.’s hand, “you must think of yourself for your wife’s sake as well as your own. We shan’t be into San Francisco for three days, and you’ll have plenty of time between now and then to thank Mr. Christmas all you want.”
C. B. cast a grateful look upon the captain and fled forrard among the crew, where he was received as one of themselves, no fuss being made over him, but lots of questions asked about his swimming powers. Here he was quite at home, for such was the respect that every one down there felt for him that they modified their usual full-flavoured speech because they knew it was unpleasant to him, although the boss of the forecastle, a burly Californian, said afterhe had gone that he felt quite weak with the strain he had put upon himself in the matter of speech. “But,” he added, “I don’t grudge it him, for he’s the whitest man I’ve struck for a long, long spell, if he can’t stand a cuss word.”
The husband of the rescued lady having perfectly recovered begged to be allowed to meet C. B. again, and tender his thanks in company with his wife. So the meeting came off, when it appeared that they were a wealthy American pair, named Ogden, travelling in search of health, childless and most tenderly attached to each other. At first the gentleman’s proposal was to adopt C. B. as their son with all the advantages of such a position, but to this our friend returned so decided a negative that it was not again mooted. Then the pair wished to make C. B. a present of a large sum of money, to which he replied that he had no use for it, that he had done nothing that he would not have done for a beggar, and that he hoped they would think no more of the matter.
Thus coming to a deadlock there was no means of ridding themselves of their almost intolerable burden of gratitude, until C. B. said—
“I cannot take anything from you, not because of pride, but because I don’t want money; I hate the idea of getting fond of it, for I have learned how evil a thing it can be. But if you must do something to please me, help the poor whom I hear so much about and don’t know anything of. Our Lord says that the poor ye have always with you, and so you can never be short of means of doing good if you have got a lot of money. In any case, I won’t take your money; I’ve done nothing for it, and the only thing it could do for me would be to make me discontented with what I now see to bethe happiest life on earth, that is, my dear island home.”
Gratitude and the business instinct struggled for the mastery in Mr. Ogden’s breast, coupled perhaps with a little resentment at C. B.’s attitude, for he was one of those men who hate being under an obligation. At last he went to Captain Taber and asked him to take C. B. in hand and show him the error of his ways. Of course Captain Taber flatly refused, knowing C. B. as he did, while his own fine honest pride gloried in the same quality being possessed by C. B., as he thought. So then Mr. Ogden was compelled to give up, and went about among the other passengers discontentedly airing his grievance and causing much mirth at the unusual spectacle of a man growling because he couldn’t get another man to accept his money.
The passage drew near to its close, and C. B., after rather anxious watching of his patient, came to the conclusion that there was some slight improvement in his strength. In consultation with the doctor that gentleman pronounced him as strong as he could ever expect to be, and that it would entirely depend upon his treatment during the long crossing of the Continent whether he would have a short or a fairly long lease of life with his friends. Upon this information C. B. devoted all his time to getting news about the travelling, best methods, little tips about accommodation, hotels, etc., secretly grieving for his lack of experience which might prevent him doing the best possible for his friend. The gentleman to whom he applied for information, purely by accident, was the millionaire father of Miss Stewart, who was apparently delighted to be of service to him. And during their conversation C. B. said in perfect innocence—
“I hope Miss Stewart is well; I haven’t seen her about the deck lately. I suppose I notice it more because she used to be the life and soul of the ship.”
Old man Stewart bent his shaggy eyebrows upon the speaker and replied very slowly and distinctly—
“Yes, I guess her health’s all right as far as we know. She isn’t what she used to be though, an’ I’ll admit that her keeping down as she has done is more than a little puzzling to her mother and me. And I’d about half made up my mind to ask you if you could give us any idea of what ailed her?”
The face that C. B. turned to Mr. Stewart was a study for a picture of complete blank astonishment. For a few moments he could not speak, but sat with his mouth partly open, while Mr. Stewart never relaxed his steady gaze into the young man’s face. Then he found his tongue and said with a sort of burst—
“Why, Mr. Stewart, what can you mean? Except at the outset of the passage, when she arranged for me to tell the story of my life, I have not exchanged a dozen words with your daughter, nor have I for the last fortnight scarcely had her in my mind. It suddenly dawned upon me as I talked with you that I had not seen her about in her usual lively fashion, and on the impulse of the moment I asked you of her health. And now you say you thought of askingmeif I had any idea what was ailing her!”
Mr. Stewart’s brow relaxed, his grim mouth formed a smile, and he said cheerily—
“All right, sonny, I’m glad to see I hain’t made no mistake in ye. Forget what I said and put it down to an old man’s anxiety for his only child. An’ now about that journey of yours, I should recommend”—and the old gentleman went off into minutest details of trains, hotels, etc., in which C. B. followed painfully after him, feeling at every word how far from this wonderful world of struggle and stress he was removed. But what the reader will think of C. B.’s density with regard to Miss Stewart I do not know. It is hard for us to believe in a fancy free, unconceited youngster now, one who could have such a question put to him by a father concerning his daughter, as Mr. Stewart had just done to C. B., and not feel flattered and more conceited than before. But the old man showed his wonderful knowledge of human nature in dealing with C. B. as he did. In spite of his cynical disbelief in most, if not all, his fellow-men he paid unconscious tribute to C. B. in taking the step he did, and when he found his estimate justified he was inclined to be puffed up and say, “I told you so, I knew he was twenty-four carat stamped on every link. My judgment against the world.”
Many people, however, would exercise their privilege of sitting in judgment and call C. B. just plain fool. They are welcome, since such anex partestatement does not affect the case. I must go on to say that C. B. dismissed the whole matter from his mind, which indeed, as the distance from the Golden Gate of its namesake was measured by hours, became more full of anxiety concerning his helpless charge than ever he had known it before. Then came the arrival, the breaking up of pleasant little coteries such as are formed in a few days on ship-board, and in many cases the parting from people whom you would long to spend your life with but have to part from and usually see no more.
In accordance with a pre-arranged plan C. B. made his friend comfortable and did not worry himuntil the rest of the passengers were out of the vessel, so that he could take a quiet, unhurried farewell of his friends the officers of the ship. Everybody had gone; none, however, without a hearty handshake and a pleasant word for C. B., many assuring him of what was really true—that they would never forget him, when a shore boat came alongside bearing a man in some sort of a uniform, who as soon as he came aboard inquired for Mr. C. B. Adams. It took some little time for the unaccustomed address to be realized, but at last the message was handed to C. B. and the messenger said with easy nonchalance that he’d wait for an answer. And subsiding into a deck chair produced his toothpick and made himself comfortable.
The missive was brief and businesslike. It ran—
“Private Car Mary A. Stewart waits at the dépôt to receive Captain Taber, Mr. C. B. Adams, and any two friends they may select for through transportation to New Bedford, Massachusetts. All charges are paid through to destination, and all railway men are advised to render any aid or service needed. It is advised that the party start with the least possible delay though no time is fixed.Oliver P. Starbuck, Gen. Mgr.”
“Private Car Mary A. Stewart waits at the dépôt to receive Captain Taber, Mr. C. B. Adams, and any two friends they may select for through transportation to New Bedford, Massachusetts. All charges are paid through to destination, and all railway men are advised to render any aid or service needed. It is advised that the party start with the least possible delay though no time is fixed.Oliver P. Starbuck, Gen. Mgr.”
C. B. simply could not believe the plain statement made, though it was impossible to misunderstand it. So he handed the letter to Captain Taber, who read and murmured, “Thank God. You see,” he went on to C. B., “that money can do something. I was dreading in every fibre of my bones that awful journey home, and here with a stroke of his pen one of our many wealthy friends, who does not think enough of the act to let us know who he is so that we may thank him, makes the way smooth andplain for us from the Pacific to the Atlantic. Ah me, I’m being highly favoured, and I more than half suspect that I ought to thank you for it. Now don’t get up on your hind legs and make a fuss, because I feel sure I’m right.”
The skipper of theGolden Gatewas called in consultation, and he agreed that this royal courtesy must have been paid by one of the passengers who wished to remain unknown. And he said that he could not help wishing that he was coming with them, for his wife was in Liverpool, and he had not seen her for three years, while such a chance might never occur again as long as he lived. Be sure that C. B. cordially echoed the captain’s wish, for he dreaded the ordeal which he felt awaited him more than he had ever feared anything before, but only because of his anxiety for the helpless man under his charge.
However, as in all such cases, there was little time for regrets or speculation, the time pressed and departure could not be delayed. So gathering all together C. B. and his charge were conveyed ashore, and through the turbulent life of the city to the station, or dépôt as it is called in the United States. The driver of the conveyance they chartered upon getting ashore knew his business thoroughly and took them straight to where the private car was standing in lonely majesty, side tracked. And as they drew up alongside of it there appeared, to their intense astonishment, the gaunt form of Mr. Stewart, who was accompanied by his daughter.
A look of perfect satisfaction was upon both their faces which changed into an amused smile as they noted the stare of perfect bewilderment upon the countenance of C. B. It remained there until Captain Taber said, “Come, Christmas, what’s wrong withye? have ye seen a ghost?” Then C. B. started, apologized, and explained that somehow he had never expected to see any of the ship’s late company again; he felt that they were scattered far and wide. Then Mr. Stewart, having seen the captain carefully placed within the palatial car and made comfortable on the beautifully upholstered lounge with plenty of soft cushions, sat down by his side, while C. B. stood looking around him in dumbfounded amazement at the somewhat crude splendours of the car.
Beckoning his daughter to a seat by his side the worthy American began his explanation by saying—
“When I learned that you had been invited to make the journey across the Continent in a private car I hoped that you would have had company that would be helpful to you. And just as I heard that you were going alone I received a telegram from Boston, calling me over there on urgent business, so I calculated that perhaps you wouldn’t mind my daughter and myself being your guests for a week. We may be of some use if you can put up with us.”
Captain Taber turned upon the speaker a look of grateful affection and murmured—
“Don’t be afraid, Mr. Stewart, that I shall make a fuss, but do let me say God bless you for your lovingkindness in lending us this car, for I knew it was yours as soon as I heard the name, and for watching over us since. He,” jerking his thumb in C. B.’s direction, “won’t bother you, I know, won’t bother his head a little bit to whom the car belongs, looks upon the whole affair as just another instance of God Almighty’s particular care. I confess I can’t think yet that the Lord looks after me to that extent, and yet I don’t know but what I will before long. If anything could make me it would be association with that fellow. He’s—but there, Ican’t talk about him without kinder choking! Must be getting weak in the head.”