FOOTNOTE:[2]Very inappropriate at the death-bed of a Buddhist bonze.
[2]Very inappropriate at the death-bed of a Buddhist bonze.
[2]Very inappropriate at the death-bed of a Buddhist bonze.
Thompson could scarcely credit his senses when he heard that flogging had been abolished on board the Stinger.
"What!" he observed to the boatswain, "are we free, then?"
"I'm surprised at you, Thompson; as if you was not free afore!"
"Well, Mr. Shever, you don't mean to tell me that you really believes that a man thinks hisself free, when at any moment he may find the cat-o'-nine-tails flying across his back, do you?"
"You don't look at it in a proper light, Jerry. A commander on one of her Majesty's ships-of-war has got to be a big man, or no one thinks anything of him. Now, all the while he has power to flake his men they fears him, and he can cow the biggest roughs among them; but take it away, and see what a lame-entable prelude would follow."
"Gammon! You ain't a-going to persuade me to that, sir. Why, look at us now. Don't all of the fellers like the captain and first lieutenant? and they doesn't hold with flogging. Formerly the cussing on board was strong enough to curl an iron rod, and now we gets on very nicely, and lots of our men are learning to read and write in Lieutenant Russell's evening school. It takes more than articles of war to keep blue jackets in order, and I knows I shouldn't like to be flaked, and don't believe you would, sir."
"Nonsense, Thompson! I'm surprised you can't look at this in its proper light! Ain't all a captain does right? Why, they knows more than any one else; and if any one offends them, ain't it proper for 'em to take it out of their backs? I say so! The men is inferiors, and the officers is born to rule over them, therefore if dissatisfied demagogues and age-itators choose to think they is as good as their officers, let 'em do it; but as your friend, let me advise you to steer clear of all such fools."
"I don't believe one man is born a bit better than another, sir; and as to your idea that God made some men to rule others, it's all my eye. I think that the captain in his sittyvation is just as much bound to do what is right as we who are under him, and I know the cat-o-nine-tails ain't any use in keeping discipline, and that it's played the deuce with many a good feller."
"Chut, chut. Why, I know lots of really good men who would leave the service when their time expired, if flogging were abolished."
"Then all I can say, Mr. Shever, is, that you knows a lot of fools; and if any of them was to up and say such a lie in my company, I'll tell them just what I do you. I've heered a slave in the Brazils say as how he wouldn't be free if they gev him the chance, and that slavery was a thundering good thing for everybody wot hadn't got no money."
"Well, he was right. It is a fine thing for poor people. What are all the poor people at home but slaves? only they ain't called so. He was a sensible man, and spoke the truth."
"Hold hard, sir! Hear me out. Well, I kept my eye on that feller, and thought what a precious mean thing a man was when he gave up all ideas of trying to asserthis rights, but the slave would every day have some chat about how comfortable it was to think he would be provided for in his old age by his indulgent master, until we got a little sick of it, particular as his old man hoisted him up one morning, and gave him a lot of lashes with a cowhide."
"Well, I suppose he deserved it?"
"Hold hard! let me finish my yarn, sir. He was flaked upon the wharf, and all of us chaps—we was in a merchant ship where the skipper daren't flog us—looked on and swore we'd pound his master if we only caught him alone. Well, would you believe it? when he was cast off, the feller actually walked to his master, knelt down, and, afore everybody, begged he would forgive him for having given him so much trouble."
"He was a sensible man."
"Werry sensible. We sailed that night; and just as I was castin' off the gangway plank down rushes the slave, and as he spoke English very well, he hails me. 'What do you want?' sez I. But afore I had hardly got the words out of my mouth he jumps aboard, and saying, 'Hide me. I've killed my master,' dived below and hid hisself."
"Do you call that sensible behaviour?"
"Rather, Mr. Shever. I held my tongue, and when we was out to sea hunted him out, and giv him some grub, when he told me that as he couldn't put up with the lash no longer, he had killed his owner, and chanced escaping in our ship, and that all his fine talk about liking to be flogged was only done to blind his master."
"Do you think that a small affair like a flogging justified him in killing his superior?"
"I don't know anything about superiors in that way, sir, but I knows one thing, that if any man was to flake me for his own amusement, I'd not hesitate to do as he did, as I don't think I belong to the dog speecee, if you does, Mr. Shever."
With a look meant to express contempt blended with pity for one so utterly lost to reason, Mr. Shever stopped further discussion by replying, "Silence, you ungrateful young man! Never speak to me again unless on duty. I wash my hands of you and all as holds such revolutionary opinions. I'm sorry Captain Puffeigh is not in command:" saying which he turned away with an oath, and went below.
Jerry eyed his form as it vanished down the hatchway, and then remarked to the men who had gathered round him during the conversation, "Sorry the old skipper ain't in the ship. Ugh! you blood-thirsty brute! Sorry you can't cut us up with the lash, as you did under bully Crushe. Cut my acquaintance! I cuts yours, as I'd scorn to be upon speaking terms with a warrant-officer as holds such opinions as you does. I wish your wife could hear you talk like that; she'd put you to rights, I know."
Thompson heard the news of the attack upon Canton; and, with the rest of his shipmates burned to be present at the bombardment of that city. The sailors seemed to think that they would prefer to be where they could give hard knocks, and it produced no little amount of growling when mail after mail arrived, and still no orders to move. At length, however, when the spring had well advanced, a P. and O. steamer calling at Chin-hae, sent up dispatches directing Captain Paul Woodward to start for Hong-Kong with all possible dispatch; whereupon he proceeded to get ready for sea, and within twenty-four hours they dropped down to Chin-hae, and getting up steam, left for the south. The steamer carrying the dispatches had also brought their mailbags, and Clare had several letters from his wife, parts of which he read to his friend; while, strange to say, the latter received one from his mother, of whom he had not heard for years; and as it will serve to show how forgetful some sailors are of those for whom they really entertain great affection, we give her letter.
"Nonnington, Kent."2 January, ——"My Dear Boy,"I am rejoiced to hear you're alive and well,[3]and you will be pleased to know I am, considering my age, quite hearty. I suppose you don't think I'm alive, or would have written to me. Now I hope, if these few lines reach you, to receive a letter in return from my youngest born, who I love, although I have not seen or heard from him for eleven years. You will be wondering how I came to hear of you. Well, to make a long story short I were a sitting by the fire one snowy night about a month ago, when some one knocked at the door and begged shelter for pity's sake, as he were near frozen. Your Cousin Ellen, who lives with me—I live now in 'Trotman's Charity.' You know the row of almshouses. Very comfortable they are, too, and good of the founder, who has been dead two hundred years. Well, Ellen, who writes this for me, went to the door and saw a man covered with snow, and nearly starved from cold. I asked him to come in and draw up to the fire, seeing he were a sailor; and after he got a little thawed, he told me his name was Harry Tomlin, and that he'd run away from a man-of-war at the Cape of Good Hope, then entered a ship bound for Australia, where he landed without a shilling; and he gave us a long account of his adventures, how he'd made some money, and had arrived in England a few days ago, and were bound to Eythorne that night, but had been overtaken by the snow, and nearly frozen to death. Me and Ellen heard his story with tears in our eyes; and when he had finished I asked him if ever he had been in a merchant ship, as I had a dear boy who were a sailor, and who were, I feared no more. Upon which he says, 'But why not in a man-of-war, marm?' 'Because,' I said, 'my Jerry were too good-tempered as a lad to spill people's blood, and I know he wouldn't enter a man-of-war; Heaven forbid,' said I. 'Jerry, marm,' he said. 'Why, you never mean to say Jerry Thompson, do you?' Upon hearing of which I fainted away, and were some time before I could hear all about your being so good and clever; and, in fact, you ought to be a captain but for the regulations not allowing. He left the next day after giving me your direction, and I have sent this letter to the place he said. Now, my dear boy, write me as soon as you can, and believe I love you as much as ever. With love, in which Ellen joins, I am your affectionate mother,"Fanny Thompson.""P. S. The old lady gets about wonderfully, and with your aunt, Mary Golder; is living in the alms-house where Miss Hoodruff used to live. They both talk a great deal about you, and it will be a dutiful act for you to write to her now and then. Probably you have forgotten me, as I was but a child when you left, but I remember you gave me a kiss when you bade me good-bye."Your loving cousin,"Ellen."
"Nonnington, Kent."2 January, ——
"My Dear Boy,
"I am rejoiced to hear you're alive and well,[3]and you will be pleased to know I am, considering my age, quite hearty. I suppose you don't think I'm alive, or would have written to me. Now I hope, if these few lines reach you, to receive a letter in return from my youngest born, who I love, although I have not seen or heard from him for eleven years. You will be wondering how I came to hear of you. Well, to make a long story short I were a sitting by the fire one snowy night about a month ago, when some one knocked at the door and begged shelter for pity's sake, as he were near frozen. Your Cousin Ellen, who lives with me—I live now in 'Trotman's Charity.' You know the row of almshouses. Very comfortable they are, too, and good of the founder, who has been dead two hundred years. Well, Ellen, who writes this for me, went to the door and saw a man covered with snow, and nearly starved from cold. I asked him to come in and draw up to the fire, seeing he were a sailor; and after he got a little thawed, he told me his name was Harry Tomlin, and that he'd run away from a man-of-war at the Cape of Good Hope, then entered a ship bound for Australia, where he landed without a shilling; and he gave us a long account of his adventures, how he'd made some money, and had arrived in England a few days ago, and were bound to Eythorne that night, but had been overtaken by the snow, and nearly frozen to death. Me and Ellen heard his story with tears in our eyes; and when he had finished I asked him if ever he had been in a merchant ship, as I had a dear boy who were a sailor, and who were, I feared no more. Upon which he says, 'But why not in a man-of-war, marm?' 'Because,' I said, 'my Jerry were too good-tempered as a lad to spill people's blood, and I know he wouldn't enter a man-of-war; Heaven forbid,' said I. 'Jerry, marm,' he said. 'Why, you never mean to say Jerry Thompson, do you?' Upon hearing of which I fainted away, and were some time before I could hear all about your being so good and clever; and, in fact, you ought to be a captain but for the regulations not allowing. He left the next day after giving me your direction, and I have sent this letter to the place he said. Now, my dear boy, write me as soon as you can, and believe I love you as much as ever. With love, in which Ellen joins, I am your affectionate mother,
"Fanny Thompson."
"P. S. The old lady gets about wonderfully, and with your aunt, Mary Golder; is living in the alms-house where Miss Hoodruff used to live. They both talk a great deal about you, and it will be a dutiful act for you to write to her now and then. Probably you have forgotten me, as I was but a child when you left, but I remember you gave me a kiss when you bade me good-bye.
"Your loving cousin,"Ellen."
Thompson read the foregoing very carefully, and before they arrived in port wrote a long letter in reply, which he sent home by the first mail, and never afterwards missed an opportunity of letting his mother know about his welfare.
Upon their arrival in Hong-Kong, where a large fleet was assembled. Captain Woodward received orders to proceed to the Bocca Tigris Forts in the Canton river; and without an hour's delay, after getting in provisions, water, and ammunition, they steamed out of the harbour, and in a short time anchored off the Wantung Forts,where they landed their marines and as many blue-jackets as they could spare, to form a garrison.
One morning, as the bugle was going for parade, a steamer hove in sight, and in a short time Captain Woodward received instructions to embark on board his boats with his spare seamen and the whole of his marines, who were each to carry at least sixty rounds of ammunition, and when the gun-boats came up, to go on board them, and proceed to the attack of the Imperial junks then assembled in Chow-chan Creek. When the boats were manned and armed, the commander directed them to pull out towards the flotilla, which had not been long in making its appearance. As the gun-boats came up, it was noticed that each was towing a long string of boats, cutters, pinnaces, and gigs, and upon seeing the Stingers, one of them stopped to receive them on board; then, having made fast her boats, gave a shrill whistle, and started after her companions, Beauman, who was left in charge, dipping the ensign by way of salute as they passed the ship.
The gun-boats steamed away at full speed up the Canton river—now between high banks, which completely shut them in, and prevented their seeing anything of the surrounding country; now in places where the stream wound through a flat district, entirely given up to rice cultivation; while their appearance, instead of intimidating the Chinese who worked in the fields, seemed to give them a great deal of amusement, as in some places the labourers would gather upon the banks and shout derisively to the Fanquis, who were going up to be eaten by the Imperial tigers at Chow-chan. Here and there on either side of the banks they passed the ruins of forts destroyed by the ships the year before, but no attempt was made to molest them until they arrived within about three miles of the barrier, where a drunken bannerman stood upon the bank with a "brave's" matchlock, and after shouting and gesticulating, brought the whole flotilla to a standstill.
"What do you want?" hailed the interpreter.
"Go back, you red-headed, unshaven barbarians, you pink-eyed, man-eating fiends—go back! go back!"
"What does he say?" demanded the commander of H.M.S. Squelcher, which was the leading boat.
"He says we're to go back."
"Tell him to—Go on ahead, full speed," testily replied the latter, as he noticed through his glass that the bannerman was intoxicated.
"Signal flying from the Jolter. What have you stopped for?"
"Reply, All right, and go on ahead."
Seeing the audacious red-haired demons did not comply with his modest order, the bannerman levelled his matchlock and managed to plump a ball aboard the Squelcher, upon which her commander directed a sentry to fire. The marine coolly raised his rifle—took a careful sight—then crack went the piece, and the daring bannerman, placing his hands upon his waistband, as though suddenly seized with cholera, doubled himself up and rolled down into the river, where he was drowned like a kitten.
After passing through the barriers, which were formed of thick piles driven across the river, the flotilla came to anchor a little below the entrance of Chow-chan creek, and just astern of H.M. ships Blowfly and Porpoise, on board of which the men who could not find accommodation in the gun-boats passed the night.
About an hour before the first streaks of light, dawned in the sky the men were turned out, the boats manned, and made fast to the gun-boats. The latter got up anchor, and steamed slowly towards the enemy. A thick mist hung about the fleetof junks anchored up the creek, and it was not until the gun-boats opened fire with their heavy rockets that the Chinese seemed fully awake, although they had been beating gongs and letting off crackers all night; however, when they found the rockets flying about them, they returned the compliment to the best of their ability, and a small fort situated upon an eminence to the left opened a deadly fire, but it was at once assaulted and carried by the officer who commanded the expedition. This done, the guns of the fort were directed upon the junks ranged upon two sides of a delta formed by the junction of Chow-chan with another creek, then the gun-boats crossed the front of the low island, and, under a murderous fire, proceeded up the right channel.
Boats were sunk,—oars cut off short at the loom,—and men killed and thrown overboard during the terrible moments they were exposed to a perfect hail of shot from the war junks; but in spite of the shower of missiles, which included copper nails, cash, and links of chain, the gun-boats steadily advanced, and threw shot, shell, and rockets into the enemy with great precision; and although several of them got aground, they managed to get off again, and renewed the fight with greater vigour than before.
Some most gallant acts were performed, and one captain led on his men sword in hand until his boat was sinking under him, when he stepped from it into one that was passing, and, in spite of the deadly storm of missiles which flew around him, coolly tore a strip of blue serge off a sailor's garment, and hoisting the scrap upon a boat-hook, cried, "The blue never surrenders," then again cheered the sailors on to the attack. He had with him in his gig a fine Newfoundland dog, but as the coxswain who attended it, was killed and went down with the boat, the animal would not leave the spot, but was picked up some time afterwards. After a desperate combat, during which a great many men were killed or wounded, one of the junks blew up, and it was soon observed that the rest were endeavouring to move off towards Chow-chan.
The gun-boats finding the range of the junks, which were fast getting aground through the falling of the tide, now kept up a deadly fire with their heavy bow guns; and, after a desperate resistance, the Chow-chan fleet, commanded by one of the most able scholars of the country, was reduced to a mere wreck. Some junks escaped and reached Canton, where Yeh immediately imprisoned their officers for not having thrashed the "red-headed barbarians," but the greater part of the fleet, burnt down to their magazines, then blew up and scattered their timbers all over the creek. The ship's boats approached the burning vessels, and even passed them, in spite of the war rockets piled inside the junks, which would ignite, and tearing through the sides, go flying over the boats, in some cases dropping into them and killing the sailors.
As the Chinese admiral expected a pretty severe engagement, he had ordered that men who had never before been in action were to be chained to their guns, and this command was pretty generally adopted by the captains. When the junks exploded the poor wretches were elevated in batches; and their yells, when they caught fire, were plainly heard by the sailors, who, however, did not seem to be much affected thereby.
Not contented with merely destroying the Chinese fleet, the fire-eating captain who had lost his gig, upon falling in with a few of his own boats, actually pursued some flying junks as far as Chow-chan city, and, mounting a boat's gun upon the wall, coolly declared he took possession of that place. After having terrified a number of the Chow-channers nearly out of their senses and causing the Taontai to almost die with fright, he recalled his men, and returned to the flotilla, which by that time had mustered preparatory to returning.
As they passed down the creek they picked up the dead bodies of those who had been killed and thrown overboard during the action, and having conveyed themalongside H. M. S. Blow-fly, the crew of that ship, after dark, buried them in the mud of the river.
When the flotilla arrived alongside the ships they discharged most of their men to them, and anchored until the next morning, the Stingers being drafted to the Porpoise. They had been all day without taking a regular meal, and were consequently very hungry; but, to their astonishment and disgust, after having smelt the savoury perfume of the soup, which was boiling in her coppers, they with the crew were piped aft to hear the "Thanksgiving after a victory" read by a well-fed clergyman, who had (very properly) "viewed the battle from afar."
There, with the enticing vapour of rich soup steaming from the galley, and rendering them more hungry than before, the grimy, tired, thirsty tars were tortured with a form which might just as well have been gone through after their bodies were refreshed; but the Reverend Mr. Service considered his feelings ought to be consulted before a lot of common sailors, so he had the first innings; and as he prayed the wicked tars did just the reverse, and when the service was over, they were out of temper, the soup burnt, and a general feeling of discontent experienced by all, except the Reverend gentleman, who beat the assistant-surgeon twice running at chess; and, upon retiring to rest, dreamed he was appointed Bishop of Chow-chan, with a large endowment, and permission to live in Paris, or go anywhere but to his See.
Upon their return to the Stinger, her crew learned they were to proceed to Hong-Kong and refit; so within a week of the battle of Chow-chan the whole of them had enjoyed a run on shore in the settlement, and, getting short of money, were quite ready for sea again.
During the vessel's stay in port on this occasion a most interesting event occurred, at which all the Stingers were invited to assist. This was the marriage of Miss Moore, whom they had rescued from the pirates, with a wealthy merchant of Hong-Kong, named Mackay; and on the day of the ceremony the crew, having been granted a holiday, marched to the church, and formed a double line from the door of the sacred edifice.
As the bride, leaning on the arm of Captain Woodward, passed through this guard of honour, the grateful girl stopped and inquired for Thompson.
This ordinarily self-possessed individual, on stepping forward, was so confused, that he blushed like a maiden.
"How are you, my good friend?" said the warm-hearted girl. "I should indeed have been sorry if you had not been here to-day."
"I'm pretty well, miss," replied the sailor, bewildered by the charming sight, and perhaps slightly uneasy in his mind relative to the kiss he had been bold enough to take from one so lovely, under circumstances previously related, "and it's real glad I feel to see you looking so well and so beautiful."
"He must go into the church with us, Captain Woodward," pleaded the young lady.
"Anything in the world to make your happiness complete," smilingly rejoined that gallant officer.
By some means Thompson was placed in a pew near a Chinese lady's-maid, who during the ceremony made big eyes at him, and otherwise endeavoured to attract his attention; but he was proof against her allurements: so, finding her glances thrown away upon him, she turned her battery against the heart of a susceptible midshipman, who thereupon fell in love with her, and, before many days were over, seriously offered to wed her, a proposition which she wisely rejected. When the ceremony was completed, and the former Miss Moore saluted as Mrs. Mackay, her husband looked about, andasked where the sailor was to whom he owed so much. Upon which the master pointed out Thompson, who was looking at the group with a very admiring air.
"Thompson, let me thank you for your great care of the dear girl who is now my wife. Come, she wishes to speak for herself."
During this speech the bride had been saluted by nearly all the officers, and there was no mistaking the meaning of the happy bridegroom when he led the sailor forward and presented him to his wife. Had he been the Thompson of old no doubt he would have availed himself of the occasion; but instead of that he bowed, and wishing her every happiness that the world could afford, amid the smiles of the officers, quietly pulled the stubby hair upon his forehead, and left the church.
"I could no more ha' kissed that beautiful woman afore all them there officers than I could have flied," he observed to one of his chums. Possibly he was a little quelled by the presence of his commander, but the fact was he thought of A-tae, and the memory prevented him taking advantage of a woman's gratitude for the very slight service he considered he had rendered.
While the wedding breakfast was in progress, the sailors and their friends were entertained in the grand marquee, erected for their special accommodation; and in the evening Jerry and others performed for their amusement, the affair terminating with a grand hornpipe by the company, who declared they would like to rescue a young lady every day, if the exploit would be followed by such a real good feed as Mr. Mackay gave them. They enjoyed themselves like men, and a few of them danced until they were obliged to retire to the outside of the marquee and sleep off the effects of the exercise; but as a body they behaved in a manner which was a compliment to their officers, and a credit to themselves.
Mrs. Mackay was always a firm friend to the sailors belonging to the men-of-war, and many were the baskets of fruit she sent to the sick on board H. M. S. Dead-and-alive; while, through her intercession, several poor fellows escaped the lash, as she would, when men misbehaved themselves on shore, get her husband to plead in their behalf; and was so much thought of by the sailors, that when she appeared in the streets they would cease their talk, take their pipes out of their mouths, and salute her with the utmost respect.
Thompson was often invited to her house, but would never stay more than a few moments; however, one day she entrapped him into conversation, whereupon he told her about A-tae. After hearing his story to the end, she wiped her eyes, which had been suffused during his recital of the tragic fate of the poor girl, and bade him never forget such a love, but at the same time not to shut his heart against the sex, as she doubted not there was a good girl waiting for him somewhere; and if he would take courage, no doubt when he reached home he would meet with her. To which kind speech Jerry replied with a touch of his old drollery.
"That's true enough, miss" (he always persisted in calling her so, in spite of her gently correcting him), "but the worst of it is, it ain't onlyoneas is a waiting for me,—that's what I'm thinking of. It's hard, ain't it? to be afraid of former promises."
It will thus be seen that there was still some hope for the love-stricken sailor, who after that interview somewhat recovered from his apathy, and before they left Hong-Kong had almost made up his mind to write to Mary Ann. However, upon hearing they were ordered to Japan, he changed his determination, and decided to wait until they returned.
What was Mary Ann about all the time? Waiting patiently for him, he imagined. Let us take a peep at her.
Upon receiving the news of her lover's death the poor girl went into mourning, andgrieved as much as though he had been her husband; but being good-looking, the young men of her acquaintance did not give her much peace, so she quitted the service of Mrs. Puffeigh, and went to live with her sister, Mrs. Shever, who had opened a small dress-making establishment in Portsmouth. Here she endeavoured to forget her sorrows; but at times her sister, who was uncommonly fond of digging up buried memories, would refer to the departed sailor, upon which they would both have a good cry, and then fall to work upon the dresses in hand with greater energy than ever. However, after some months had elapsed, the young man described in Jerry's letter as the "carpenter who was after no goode," would come in and chat with the lone women, and even bring papers of candy, and other love offerings, which he cunningly presented to Mrs. Shever, who regularly handed them over to Mary Ann, as soon as her lover had departed. This diagonal sort of courtship was kept for a long time without his coming to the point, until one afternoon the sighing swain appeared with an order for the theatre, and Mary Ann being absent, the boatswain's wife shut the door, and fiercely demanded what he wanted to be always lolloping about their premises for, upon which, being cornered, the bashful youth blurted out,
"Your sister, of course."
"What do you want with her? Mind, I'll have no trifling."
"Who's agoing to trifle? do I look like a trifler?" demanded the brawny youth with an injured air.
"Well, you'd better not, that's all! But what do you mean by your candy, and your theatre orders? Speak out!"
"I means all right; that's what I means. I never walked with a gal before in my life, and I likes Polly too much to come here and not mean anything."
"But what do you want to walk with her for?" screamed the excited matron who began to fear her sister would return before she had wormed the confession out of the bashful young carpenter.
"Why I wants to marry she, but she be so mighty shy, that I haven't had a chance," bellowed the youth in his own patois; "there! now I feels better, havin' told you."
Upon this Mrs. Shever mollified her manner, and having agreed to his proposal to visit the theatre, she dismissed him with the remark that if he didn't declare his intentions that evening she'd wait for him, as he left the dockyard the next day.
About half-past six Mary Ann and her sister were dressed and awaiting his arrival, when a knock was heard at the front door, and presently in marched the enamoured youth, bearing in each hand an enormous bouquet made up of cabbage roses, and other sweet-smelling but somewhat gaudy flowers. As he advanced he caught Mrs. Shever's eye, and recollecting her threat, plumped down upon one knee, dropped his offerings, and blurted out,
"Mary Ann, wilt have me for your feller?"
The boatswain's wife prudently left the room.
"Come, lass, thee might as well say yea. I'm moighty fond of thee."
"Really, Mr. Jenkins, you have taken me so by surprise, I—Don't squeeze my hand so,—you're hurting me."
"Come, my dear lass, put me out of moi misery. Say no, and I'll blow out moi brains; say yes, and I'll gie thee a hearty kiss."
Just then Mary Ann heard a light tapping at the window, so she observed in a very low voice, "I should—be very sorry—to—to—think you—would injure yourself out of regard for me—so I" (here the tapping became very distinct) "will say yes to save you from—"
"Bless thy heart, my dear gal. I'll treat thee like a queen," cried the elated carpenter, giving the blushing girl a hug, which almost took her breath away, at which opportune moment her sister returned.
"Good gracious! why, what are you about, Mr. Jenkins?"
"Only adoin' whatyoutold me," replied the lover.
"Me told you, Mr. Jenkins?"
"There, there, name the day, and let's get it over," said the youth. But Mary Ann was not to be carried by storm in that way; so she put off replying to the question until they returned from the theatre, where unluckily they saw "Romeo and Juliet" acted; and the girl would persist in crying during the performance, as it reminded her so strongly of the never-to-be-forgotten night. However, after partaking of a light supper consisting of a beefsteak-pudding and baked potatoes, upon Mrs. Shever artfully reminding the lover that Polly had not replied to his request, and begging it might be done at once, that she could drink their health and happiness with her first sup of porter, the poor girl consented; and upon the day Mrs. Mackay advised Thompson "to think of the good girl waiting for him somewhere at home," Mary Ann found herself, "until death did her part," joined to the young carpenter who was after no good, and became Mrs. Joseph Jenkins, thus demonstrating the folly of Jerry's illusion, "that Mary Ann would keep."
FOOTNOTE:[3]She knew nothing of his reported death.
[3]She knew nothing of his reported death.
[3]She knew nothing of his reported death.
Captain Woodward's kindness towards him and the good news he received from his wife, effected a wonderful alteration in Clare's appearance, and the little doctor congratulated him on his returning health.
"I'm better, thankee, sir—wonderfully better—but at times my heart beats so that I can hardly breathe. I think it's better, though, since I've been coxswain."
"You see how foolish you were to worry yourself about what has proved to be an idle fear, as all your surmises have turned out to be incorrect."
"I'm well enough now, doctor. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, you are well; but you must take care of yourself, and not get excited."
"I mean, don't you think I'm in my senses?"
"Certainly I do, Clare."
"Well, doctor, I saw my wife's spirit on the 16th of last August—this month is July. I've heard from her, and know she is alive as far as I can tell at this moment. I consider the 16th of August to be her day, and if she visits me agin, I'm sure she will die before I see her."
"I shall have to put you upon the sick list if you talk like that. Why, you are as superstitious as ever."
Tom smiled sadly, but assured the doctor that it was not superstition, but faith on his part, adding, "in my country a fetch sometimes comes every year for fifty years, but the person it represents always dies on that day."
The doctor looked at his patient for a few moments, and told him that he would engage to cure the worst cases of fetch that Tom might bring to him; and as his own was a pretty decided one, he should put him under treatment for it at once, although he was not to be considered upon the sick list.
The doctor's plan was effectual, for in a short time the seaman renounced his delusion, and became quite convinced that it had proceeded from disordered digestion: and before they left for Japan he penned the following letter to his wife, from which it will be seen that his orthography had improved under Lieutenant Russell's instructions.
"H. M. S. Stinger,"Hong-Kong, 23 July, ——"My Dear Wife,"Your two last letters were written by a strange hand, please tell me who it is. I was greatly delighted to hear from you, and to know you are well and hearty, and the baby well—he must cheer you a good deal. I have had all manner of fullish thoughts about you, thinking you was dead, but the doctor, who is a perfect samaryatan, has given me a lot of stuff, which has taken away all my visions. Now, I have a wish. I want you to write me upon getting this, and say that on the 16th of August you were well and hearty, and it will give me great joy, as I had a foolish idea on that point. I have also a wish to know how you look. Can't you send me a sun picture? I'd give anything for a sun picture of you. Lieutenant Russell takes them, and haspromised me one for you. I am very comfortable in this ship, the captain is a perfect gentleman. If all was like him the service would be perfect heaven for sailors. I was truly sorry to hear of the death of your old missis. I hope she is now with him in heaven who was so good on earth. Almost his last words was 'Florence,' and he died a thinking of her. Our first lieutenant is like poor Lieutenant Ford in many things, but he is more grander in his words; he is wonderful clever, and it's a pleasure to hear him lecture. He teaches us to read and write, and is more like a father than anything else. He is the best-dispositioned officer I ever saw, and would make a first-class captain. Our captain is noble in everything, A 1, and as brave as a lion. I am his coxswain now for good. In my last letter I told you all about Jerry Thompson; he is now a petty officer, and as good a fellow as ever, although he is a little touched in his head about a Chinee girl, named Hay-toy, that was killed for his sake. I think he was very fond of her. He is a reg'lar chum of mine, and we messes together. Mr. Cravan has left the ship promoted; he was nobody after our old tyrant and that wretch Crushe had left, as he daren't show his feelings afore our present captain; he went off without a sign of a cheer from any of us, and nobody missed him. We are going to Jaypan, and I hope afterwards, when we have took Canton, to send you word we are coming home. I think with what we have now, and my prize money and pay, we shall be able to live very comfortable. When you goes into Deal call at Mr. Masposlis, and say his son is in our ship, and is a very nice young man; he is our captain's servant, and we now and then has a chat about his father. I must now conclude, with love to father and mother, and a hundred kisses for dear little Tom, and my undying love for you, dear Polly."I am your affectionate husband,"Thomas Clare.""Address Hong-Kong or elsewhere, as usual."
"H. M. S. Stinger,"Hong-Kong, 23 July, ——
"My Dear Wife,
"Your two last letters were written by a strange hand, please tell me who it is. I was greatly delighted to hear from you, and to know you are well and hearty, and the baby well—he must cheer you a good deal. I have had all manner of fullish thoughts about you, thinking you was dead, but the doctor, who is a perfect samaryatan, has given me a lot of stuff, which has taken away all my visions. Now, I have a wish. I want you to write me upon getting this, and say that on the 16th of August you were well and hearty, and it will give me great joy, as I had a foolish idea on that point. I have also a wish to know how you look. Can't you send me a sun picture? I'd give anything for a sun picture of you. Lieutenant Russell takes them, and haspromised me one for you. I am very comfortable in this ship, the captain is a perfect gentleman. If all was like him the service would be perfect heaven for sailors. I was truly sorry to hear of the death of your old missis. I hope she is now with him in heaven who was so good on earth. Almost his last words was 'Florence,' and he died a thinking of her. Our first lieutenant is like poor Lieutenant Ford in many things, but he is more grander in his words; he is wonderful clever, and it's a pleasure to hear him lecture. He teaches us to read and write, and is more like a father than anything else. He is the best-dispositioned officer I ever saw, and would make a first-class captain. Our captain is noble in everything, A 1, and as brave as a lion. I am his coxswain now for good. In my last letter I told you all about Jerry Thompson; he is now a petty officer, and as good a fellow as ever, although he is a little touched in his head about a Chinee girl, named Hay-toy, that was killed for his sake. I think he was very fond of her. He is a reg'lar chum of mine, and we messes together. Mr. Cravan has left the ship promoted; he was nobody after our old tyrant and that wretch Crushe had left, as he daren't show his feelings afore our present captain; he went off without a sign of a cheer from any of us, and nobody missed him. We are going to Jaypan, and I hope afterwards, when we have took Canton, to send you word we are coming home. I think with what we have now, and my prize money and pay, we shall be able to live very comfortable. When you goes into Deal call at Mr. Masposlis, and say his son is in our ship, and is a very nice young man; he is our captain's servant, and we now and then has a chat about his father. I must now conclude, with love to father and mother, and a hundred kisses for dear little Tom, and my undying love for you, dear Polly.
"I am your affectionate husband,
"Thomas Clare."
"Address Hong-Kong or elsewhere, as usual."
Before the memorable day upon which he was carried off by the Tartars Thompson had given a parcel, containing a crape shawl and several articles of loot, into the boatswain's care, with instructions to deliver the same to Mary Ann if any accident occurred to him; so when Jerry's clothes and other effects were sold before the mast, the things were kept back by the boatswain. Upon Thompson falling out with Mr. Shever the latter sent him the parcel, the existence of which was forgotten by the sailor; and as Jerry, like most of his class, never kept anything long, he made up his mind to send it home to Mrs. Clare, by the first man invalided.
"She'll find it a helligant thing for weddings or the circus," he observed to his friend.
"She don't go to none, leastways, she never says anything about it; besides, keep it yourself, or send it to Mary Ann."
"What for? I'm going to try if Mary Ann has forgotten me, like you all did." (Jerry always felt a little tender upon that point). "You're my chum. Missis C. is a lady I think a deal about. Young Tom is my nevvy, although a unlawful one, and puttin' that altogether, I'm determined to send her the shawl, or to chuck it overheard."
The next man invalided proved to be Private Silas Bowler, Royal Marine Light Infantry, who, after receiving a liberal present, took charge of the shawl; and having successfully evaded the lynx-eyed custom-house officials, upon his arrival at Portsmouth proceeded to deliver it, not according to his agreement, but to his own wife, who wore it at Utah chapel, and quoted the gift to her brothers and sisters in faith, as a proof of good Silas's generosity. The worthy marine ultimately emigrated to SaltLake, where he became a deacon, and, for aught we know to the contrary, one of Brigham Young's most efficient assistants. It is probable that by this time the crape shawl has changed owners several times.
The Stinger proceeded towards Japan, and in due time came to anchor in the harbour of Chickodadi, where the hospitable inhabitants received them with open arms, the officers and men taking a cruise on shore, finding entertainment in all the free exhibitions then running in the place, including the public bath-rooms, where young and old, bachelors and spinsters, men and women, maids, wives, children and widows, together disported themselves in a most primitive manner, much to the astonishment of the gaping blue-jackets, who swarmed round those institutions and made the most amusing remarks.
"Well, Iamblowed!" observed an old quarter-master. "If these here Jappanknees ain't a rum set of fellers. Them ere bath houses beats me; and my opinion is, they are either as hinnocent as babbies or a jolly deal ahead of us in cheek. Vy, I ain't been as near blushin' as I was to-day since I was a little kid."
No doubt the old fellow's delicate nerves were immensely shocked by the custom of the country, he being one of those weather-beaten patriarchs whom no one but a very-far-in-landsman would imagine possessed of any greater sensibility than a milestone.
After having spent a very pleasant tune in Chickodadi, the Stinger proceeded to Hiko-saki, where they fell in with H.M.S. Blowfly, the commander of which being Woodward's senior, exercised them at all the evolutions known in the service, from shifting topsails to changing cooks of messes by signal, until Woodward began to wish his worthy senior elsewhere. However, the cholera breaking out in the ships, they were compelled to put to sea, where they lost one pest, but had a terrible struggle against another.
It was a sore trial for them; and men who had laughed at and risked death in a hundred forms were taken ill, and carried off before their shipmates knew they were down. Some, who had for many years been in the habit of drinking any ardent spirit which came within their reach, now, through fear of the terrible disease, suddenly renounced liquor, and swore, if spared, to lead sober lives in future, but they were cut off as quickly as the drunkards. For seventeen days the ship was like a hospital, and ere the epidemic had run its course the bodies of thirty-five men and boys, including the assistant surgeon and third engineer, were consigned to the deep. There was no escape, and many men, who might have recovered on shore, upon seeing their shipmates die around them gave up all hope for themselves, and succumbed to the disease through fear.
The little doctor did wonders, working day and night, until he was completely knocked up; then Captain Woodward took his place to the best of his ability, and set a noble example to all in the ship. Although he keenly felt the loss of every one of his officers and crew, he preserved a calm demeanour; and had not his every action shown how fully he understood and sympathized with the sufferers, he might have been regarded as indifferent to the awful ravages that death was making around him. Tom Clare and Thompson were his right-hand men, and bravely they performed their work, taking watch and watch in the sick bay, and attending the sick and dying with unremitting zeal. Clare, calm and collected, moved about like a good spirit, and many a poor fellow gave his last charge to him, knowing that, if Tom survived, his wishes would be respected,—while Thompson, chaffing the would-be sick out of their whims, was indefatigable in his attentions to those who were ill, and was the life and soul of the convalescents; for, in spite of their sad condition, Jerry's spirits rose while others'sank, and he would often, by some droll remark, be of more service in helping their recovery than all the medical comforts freely issued to them.
It must not be imagined that during such a time there is no joking and fun on board, as after the first shock those who are well, or recovering, often indulge in a display of merriment that to an observer might savour of levity, but which is merely assumed to prevent their dwelling upon the melancholy scenes taking place around them. Sailors are very mercurial fellows, and Jack has often told yarns and sung songs in the fore part of the ship while his messmates were writhing in their last agony in the sick bay abaft.
Thompson felt the loss of his shipmates very keenly; and, as he afterwards expressed it, never had harder work than when he pretended to be merry upon that occasion, and, no doubt, he did much towards keeping many of the men who were well from thinking of their awful position.
Having run northward until the disease began to decrease, Captain Woodward determined to visit one of the uninhabited islands off the coast of Tartary, and one evening came to anchor in a little bay where he determined to land his men and put them under canvas, knowing he could do so there with safety.
Some misunderstanding having occurred upon letting go the anchor, the commander sent forward to inform the boatswain that he wished to speak to him when the yards were squared, but the quartermaster who bore the message returned with the information that the boatswain had just been seized, and was gone down below. As soon as circumstances permitted, Woodward left the deck and proceeded to the warrant-officer's cabin, where he found Mr. Shever coiled up and evidently suffering great agony. Having administered the usual remedy, he left him in charge of Thompson and Clare, who were chafing his limbs with warm turpentine, that being one of the methods then prescribed in such cases. Shever endured great torture until midnight, when, just as the sentry struck eight bells, he suddenly started up, seized his beloved pipe, which he insisted should not be taken from his neck, placed it to his lips, blew a loud blast, and, shrieking, "Hands, witness punishment," writhed in pain for a few moments, than became rigid and expired.
Thompson brushed away a tear as he gazed upon the distorted countenance of his former friend, then covered the still form with a sheet, observing as he did so, "Ah, poor Mr. Shever, you'd a good heart afore that devil Crushe got hold of you," when he became aware that Clare was in the cabin; and turning round, saw the latter with his face pale and scared, moving his lips, as if praying for the man who had during life been his enemy; noticing which Jerry exclaimed, "Tom, you are a good feller to pray for him wot swore agin you and injured you. I couldn't do it."
Clare looked at his friend for a moment, then replied in a voice broken with emotion, "I'm only a mortal man, Jerry, and him wot is under that has been my enemy; but I can't stand by his body and say I'm glad to see him a-lying there. I forgive him all he has done to me, and hope he will be forgiven byHimwho knows more about his heart than we does. Poor woman! I heartily pity his wife."
"So do I, Tom. I always have done that. But what makes you so white and haggard, Tom?"
Clare sunk into a chair, and covering his face with his hands, sobbed like a child.
"Tom, Tom, don't give way. You, of all others, who is braver than any of us, you ain't afraid now, are you?"
Clare took his hands away, and mastering his emotion, assisted his friend to prepare the body for interment; but before the few offices were performed he was obliged to retire, evidently totally unmanned from some cause which he could not sufficientlymaster his feelings to explain. However, after a time he became more calm, when he sought for Thompson and told him the reason of his agitation.
"Jerry, don't laugh at me, or think lightly of what I tell you."
"Did ever I laugh at a real sorrer in all my born days? Did ever you see me make fun of trouble in others, Tom?"
Clare shook his head.
"Then, old mate, tell me your trouble, and if it's in my power I'll help you through with my best advice."
"I've just seen poor Polly. She's dead, Jerry; she ain't alive. It's the 16th of August, and she's been dead a year. O merciful God, I think I shall go mad!"
"Come, my poor old chap, you're upset with this sad work, you mustn't worrit. Why, gracious goodness, ain't she a-writ to you a dozen times, a-tellin' you about the babby, little Tom? and ain't I sent her a crape shawl by that feller Bowler? and ain't we soon a-goin home to see her, hey, old chap?"
"Jerry, there she is again," said the unfortunate fellow, pointing to the doorway. "There she is. I'm coming Polly! I'm——"
Thompson seized his friend and secured him from jumping overboard, as he might probably have done, and for three days watched by his bedside, Clare being down with a raging fever; but he got through, and was out of danger before the crew re-embarked.
Jerry did not go on shore with the others, but devoted himself entirely to his friend and it was no doubt partly owing to his untiring care that Clare recovered. He, however, never reverted to the hallucination, which appeared to have passed away, although he often spoke to his nurse about his wife and child.
Mr. Shever was, with others, buried upon the lonely island; and before the Stinger left, the ship's painter prepared a tablet bearing the following inscription, which was nailed against a tree growing near the graves.
Near here lies the body ofMr. Henry Shever,Late Boatswain in H.M. Navy,Aged 38 years,who died of cholera off this island on16th August, 185—,while serving on boardH.M.S. Stinger,24 guns.Commander, Paul Woodward, R.N.Three fathoms to the left of his grave lie thebodies of the following, late crew of H. M. S. Stinger.James Shaw, A. B., aged 32 years.Thomas Simpson, A. B., aged 27 years,Henry Rowe, A. B., aged 29 years.Samuel Tyron, O. S., aged 20 years.James Dove, Boy of 1st Class, aged 17 years.All these seamen died of the fatal effects of cholerawhile camped on shore near the beach below, muchregretted by their surviving shipmates, whoerected this monumentWM. BROWN,PAINTER.
When they had been under canvas a few weeks the cholera disappeared, and Captain Woodward quitted the island, and ran down to Shanghae, where he received orders to proceed at once to Hong-Kong, which he reached after a quick passage, and there found, thanks to his immense popularity, no difficulty in filling up the vacancies in his crew.
Clare, who had by this time recovered, was offered the post of boatswain, but declined, saying he could not fill the rate. The commander then strongly recommended Thompson for the appointment, whereupon the admiral directed him to be made acting warrant-officer until he was confirmed by the admiralty, and within a month after Mr. Shever's death Jerry, who was thoroughly competent, piped, and bellowed orders as naturally as though he had always owned the silver call and chain.
Mrs. Shever was duly notified of her husband's decease, and received the balance of his pay, and a pension from the government, and we must say, that considering the nature of her bereavement, she bore up remarkably well. "He were a good man for many things," she observed, "but a woman might as well be a widder as to have her husband at sea all the time," so after wearing very deep mourning for six months, the boatswain's relict moderated her grief and crape at the same time, and came out in such killing costume, that three ardent admirers offered her their hands and hearts within as many weeks of the change. Strange to say, she refused them, and informed the world about her that it would have to be a remarkably bright fellow who would be taken into Mr. Shever's place in her heart. She held undoubted sway as belle of Crumpton Street, until one unlucky day, the widow of a "retired dustman" took lodgings in the opposite house, and, as Mrs. Shever expressed it, laid herself out to angle for her lovers. Much to the disgust of the late boatswain's widow, the new arrival managed to captivate a young hairdresser, who finding the dustman's widow had more money than his first flame, not only cut the acquaintance of the latter, but irritated her by sitting at her rival's parlour window and playing upon a concertina such airs as "All's Well," "The Girl I left behind me," and several others strongly suggestive of her forlorn state.
It was very aggravating to her when she saw this, and heard what she denominated his "setarical" tunes, but the boatswain's widow was revenged. The perfidious ones billed and cooed for a few months, then got married, went to live in a fashionable street, lost money, fell out, she scolded, he beat her and took to drink, she drove the concern, he eloped with the young girl who sold cosmetics in the front shop, she bolted with the foreman hairdresser by the back door—and—the concern was sold out, and turned into a dressmaking establishment, over the door of which was this name in letters of gold:
Mrs. Shever,Dressmaker.Ladies own materials made up.
It was a better situation than her former one, and the business prospered in it; but, poor thing, she was lonely, and was on the point of despairing, when one morning she heard the wonderful news of Jerry's return to his ship, and from that moment was an altered woman. Mary Ann was duly informed of the state of affairs, and congratulated her sister upon the same.
"He was always fond of you, you know, 'Melia."
"Me? Mr. Thompson fond of me? Oh lor, Mary Ann, how silly you do talk. Why, I don't know if I would accept him if he was to offer this moment."
"Oh nonsense, 'Melia. He ain't here. You knows that, or you'd not go on in that way."
"What way?"
"Saying you don't love him."
"Gracious, Mary Ann, can't I speak of a gentleman of my acquaintance without you being jealous of me, and flying at me like that?" Here Mrs. Shever burst into tears. "You know you've a sneaking regard for him, and don't want to see him marry me."
"However you can say that of me, Mrs. Shever, I can't think. I'm the lawful wife of Mr. Joseph Jenkins, and I don't cast no sheep's eyes at old lovers, who don't think much of one, as they let them as loved them marry, and never wrote nobody until it was too late," cried the girl, also shedding tears, whether of regret or of anger we know not.
Now, the boatswain's widow was a good-hearted woman, and loved her sister very much; so upon seeing her weep she embraced her, and declared that she was a brute to make any one cry who had been so good to her as her own sister Mary Ann. After which they cried in concert, and then became more loving than ever.
"Then you mean to marry Mr. Thompson, 'Melia?"
Mrs. Shever blushed, looked confused, hesitated, stammered and laughed, but at last confessed to her sister that it wouldn't be her fault if she did not hook Mr. Thompson as soon as he landed.
"But you'll have to wait ever so long, dear. The ship ain't ordered home yet."
"Wait! Who wouldn't wait for such a man as that? Why, I'd wait for ten years."
"You'd be grey before then, 'Melia dear, wouldn't you?" exclaimed Mary Ann with a touch of mischief; "and perhaps Mr. Thompson wouldn't have you. Besides, maybe he has fallen in with one of them black gals in Chinee, and won't come back at all. I don't want to dishearten you, but you mustn't be too sure."
"Fiddle. He ain't married no Chinee gal,—he's a deal too smart for that; and if I'm grey when he comes back, I'll dye."
"Hadn't you better write him and say you're well?"
"Oh dear me, no. Why, no lady ever makes the first advances. Gracious me! what would people think if they heered I had wrote to a gentleman who were not my intended?"
"Well," observed her sister as she tied her bonnet strings preparatory to leaving the house, "'Melia dear, I wish you every success, but my opinion is that Jerry Thompson has been and splashed his affections somewhere else, and you'd better not wait for him. I didn't, and I'm thankful for it."
"And so am I, dear—heartily!" added Mrs. Shever as the buxom form of Mary Ann vanished through the doorway. "Very heartily indeed, I may say, as my chances would have been mighty small had you not been disposed of."
The ship remained at Hong-Kong for a few weeks, during which time Mr. Thompson, the acting boatswain, had plenty of opportunity to go on shore; but with his promotion all that beautiful simplicity of impudence, for which he was, when a seaman, distinguished, vanished, and although he knew full well the Mackays expected him to call upon them, it was not until he received the following invite that he summoned enough courage to face his good friends.
"Chy-loon Villa."Dear Mr. Thompson,"We have expected you would call upon us ever since your ship has been in harbour. As we know you would prefer not meeting strangers, we beg you will dine with us alone on Friday at 8 o'clock."Ever your sincere friend,"Walter Mackay."
"Chy-loon Villa.
"Dear Mr. Thompson,
"We have expected you would call upon us ever since your ship has been in harbour. As we know you would prefer not meeting strangers, we beg you will dine with us alone on Friday at 8 o'clock.
"Ever your sincere friend,"Walter Mackay."
To which Jerry replied,
"H. M. S. Stinger."My Dear Friends,"I am very much obliged to you, and will be there punctual."Your obedient friend,"J. Thompson."P. S. I hope none of the officers will drop in."
"H. M. S. Stinger.
"My Dear Friends,
"I am very much obliged to you, and will be there punctual.
"Your obedient friend,"J. Thompson.
"P. S. I hope none of the officers will drop in."
Having dispatched the foregoing, the acting boatswain sought the advice of a friendly midshipman as to costume and deportment, and upon the appointed evening proceeded to make the call, about which he felt very nervous. When he arrived at the place he was met by Mr. Mackay, who was waiting in the verandah to welcome him. Jerry seated himself in a rocking-chair, but looked so uncomfortable, that his friend inquired if he were unwell. Upon which Thompson got up, and beckoning his host into a small reception-room, gravely asked him if he thought he would do.
"My dear fellow, what do you mean?"
"Well, am I all square? Rigging all right?"
Mr. Mackay could scarcely preserve the gravity of his countenance, but after a short pause he replied,
"Why, you look, very nice indeed, Thompson. What makes you ask me such a question?"
"Why," said the acting boatswain in a whisper, and getting more mysterious than ever, "he said I warn't all square, and I don't want to pay Miss Moore such a ill compliment as to come to dine with you and not be all right, you know."
"Oh, you're splendid. Why, you look as handsome as a post-captain."
Thus assured, Jerry became more easy in his manner, but he was terribly put outwhen, upon Mrs. Mackay making her appearance, he found her accompanied by a dark-eyed girl, who was just as affable towards him as his hostess; and when the dinner-gong sounded he actually started, thinking he would have to escort the young lady into the dining-room; but to his relief Mrs. Mackay held out her arm, which the sailor took, and thus reversing the order of things, walked solemnly from the apartment.
The dinner passed off without any mishap, as Thompson had seen enough life to keep him all right at table, while his natural gallantry and devotion to the fair sex caused him to show all proper attention to the dark-eyed young lady seated by his side. When the ladies had withdrawn, his kind host lit a cigar, having in vain tried to induce his guest to do the same, and after a little chat asked him what he thought of the young lady.
"She's a real fine lady, but I'm afraid of her."
"Nonsense, Thompson. Why?"
"Well, she's got a sort of a half-laughing sort of way, as much as to say she thinks I'm a poor sort of a imitation of a reg'ler warrant-officer, and she sees through it."
"Chut, chut; let us join the ladies."
Jerry entered the drawing-room upon tip-toe, as the dark-eyed one was playing the piano, and having taken his seat on the chair furthest from the instrument, fixed his eyes upon her, and watched the motion of her fingers in a curiously anxious manner. When she had finished she turned to him and exclaimed, "Can you sing, Mr. Thompson?"
"Me, miss?"
"Surely you can. Don't you know one song?"
"No, miss. Not what you'd call songs."
"Not a sea-song?"
"Well, I know 'The Gal I left behind me,' and 'Hearts of Oak,' and 'Tom Bowline,' and—"
"Oh, do sing 'Tom Bowline,' Mr. Thompson."
After much persuasion Jerry got over his bashfulness; then, in a full mellow voice, sang that fine old sea-song, and ere the last verse was completed he heard the ladies sobbing as if their hearts would break. When he had finished, the younger lady wiped her eyes, and looked at him with the greatest admiration. He was no longer the bashful-awkward sailor, but a man of genuine tenderness of heart, and she began fully to understand how it was that her friends thought so highly of him. As he sang his voice seemed filled with pity for some lost shipmate, and it would have been an unsympathetic ear upon which such a song fell without calling forth some pitying response; and the young lady, though not intending to do so, looked at the acting boatswain in such a manner, that a much less susceptible person would have easily understood her meaning.
Jerry began to feel uncomfortable. I wish she wouldn't stare at me so, he thought. I'll ask her to sing.
"Please, miss, as it's my call, may I be so bold as to askyouto sing?"
"What song would you like, Mr. Thompson? I am almost ashamed to sing after you."
"Anything, miss; they are all pretty."
Not without a touch of mischief in her voice, the dark-eyed one sang "Love not." Now, had she wished to captivate the sailor she could not have chosen a more inappropriate song. When she commenced Thompson was all attention, but at the words