Chapter Thirty One.

Chapter Thirty One.As so many cocoa-nut trees had been cut down to build the house, there were plenty of boughs lying in every direction, and William and Mr Seagrave had soon procured sufficient. In a very short time the boat was drawn up about ten yards from the water’s edge, which Ready said was quite sufficient; they then dug from under with their shovels until the boat was sunk about half down in the sand.Having filled in the sand all round her up to her gunnel, the boat was then carefully covered over with the boughs, which were weighed down with sand that they might not be blown away.“I don’t see why you should cover the boat up in this way, Ready; the rain won’t hurt her,” observed William.“No, sir, the rain won’t do her any harm, but the sun will, when it bursts out occasionally; for it’s very powerful when it does shine, and it would split her all to pieces.”“I forgot that,” replied William. “What shall we do now?”“Suppose, as we have two hours to dinner-time, you run for the lines, William, and we’ll try for some fish.”“We cannot all three of us fish with only two lines,” said Mr Seagrave.“No, sir; and as William knows how to catch them, suppose you remain with him, and I will go up and collect wood and chips for Juno’s fire. She was hard pressed for it this morning, it was so wet; but, if once piled up, it will soon be dry. Be careful, Mr Seagrave, not to hold the lines tight in your hands, or you may be jerked into the water.”Mr Seagrave and William were very fortunate; before the two hours were expired they had caught eight large fish, which they brought up to the house slung on the boat-hook. Tommy hallooed loudly for fish for dinner, and as they had caught so many, it was agreed that the dinner should be put off until some could be got ready, and they were not sorry to eat them instead of salt pork.They had hardly sat down to table, when the rain came pattering down on the roof, and in a quarter of an hour the storm was as violent, and the thunder and lightning as terrific as on the day before. All outdoor labour was again suspended. Mrs Seagrave, Juno, and Caroline took their work, for there was plenty to do with the needle and thread, and Ready soon found employment for the rest. William and Mr Seagrave unlaid some thick rope, that Ready might make smaller and more useful rope with the yarns. Ready took up his sailing needles, and worked eyelet-holes in the canvas screens (which they had put up in a hurry), so that they might be drawn to and fro as required.As soon as Ready had hung up the curtains, he looked under the bedsteads for a large bundle, and said, as he opened it, “I shall now decorate Madam Seagrave’s sleeping-place. It ought to be handsomer than the others.” The bundle was composed of the ship’s ensign, which was red, and a large, square, yellow flag with the name of the shipPacificin large black letters upon it. These two flags Ready festooned and tied up round the bed-place, so as to give it a very gay appearance, and also to hide the rough walls of the cottage.“Indeed, Ready, I am much obliged to you,” said Mrs Seagrave, when he had finished; “it is really quite grand for this place.”“It’s the best use we can put them to now, madam,” said Ready.“I am afraid so,” replied Mr Seagrave, thoughtfully.“Ready,” said William, after the candles were lighted, “you once half-promised me that you would tell me your history; I wish you would tell us some of it now, as it will pass away the evening.”“Well, William, I did say so, and I shall keep my word. When you have heard my story, you will say that I have been very foolish in my time; and so I have; but if it proves a warning to you, it will, at all events, be of some use.”Ready then commenced his history as follows:History of Old Ready.“Of course, you wish to know who my father and mother were: that is soon told. My father was the captain of a merchant vessel, which traded from South Shields to Hamburg, and my poor mother, God bless her, was the daughter of a half-pay militia captain, who died about two months after their marriage. The property which the old gentleman had bequeathed to my mother was added to that which my father had already vested in the brig, and he then owned one-third of the vessel; the other two-thirds were the property of a very rich ship-builder and owner, of the name of Masterman. What with the profits of the share he held of the vessel and his pay as captain, my father was well to do. Mr Masterman, who had a very high opinion of my father, and gained much money by his exertions and good management, was present at the marriage, and when I was born, about a year afterwards, he stood for me as godfather. Every one considered that this was a most advantageous circumstance for me, and congratulated my father and mother; for Mr Masterman was a bachelor, of nearly sixty years, without any near relations. It is true, that he was very fond of money; but that, they said, was all the better, as he could not take it away with him when he died. An end, however, was soon put to all their worldly ideas, for a year after I was born, my father was drowned at sea, his vessel and the whole of her crew being lost on the Texel sands; and my mother found herself a widow, with a child scarcely weaned, when she was but twenty-two years of age.“It was supposed that my mother would still have sufficient to live upon, as the ship had been insured at two-thirds of her value; but, to the astonishment of everybody, Mr Masterman contrived to make it appear that it was his two-thirds of the vessel which had been insured.”“What is insurance?” inquired William.“Insurance, my dear boy, is paying a certain sum to people who are called underwriters, that in case the vessel or cargo is lost or damaged, the loss or damage is made good to the owners of the vessel or cargo. You pay in proportion to the risk incurred. Supposing you wished to insure one thousand pounds on a vessel or cargo, and ten per cent was required, you would, if the vessel came home safe, pay the underwriters one hundred pounds; if, on the contrary, the vessel was lost, the underwriters would have to pay you one thousand pounds, the sum which you had insured. I beg your pardon for the interruption, Ready.”“No need, Mr Seagrave; we never should lose an opportunity of teaching the young. Well, how far the assertion of Mr Masterman was correct or not, it was impossible at the time to say; but I do know that everybody cried out ‘shame’, and that if he did deprive the widow, he had much to answer for; for the Bible says, ‘Pure religion is to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction, and to keep yourself unspotted in the world’. The consequence was, that my mother had little or nothing to live upon; but she found friends who assisted her, and she worked embroidery, and contrived to get on somehow until I was eight or nine years of age.”“But did not your godfather come forward to the assistance of your mother?” inquired Mr Seagrave.“No, sir, strange to say, he did not; and that made people talk the more. I believe it was the abuse of him, which he did not fail to hear, and which he ascribed to my mother, which turned him away from us; perhaps it was his own conscience, for we always dislike those we have injured.”“Unfortunately, there is great truth in that remark of yours, Ready,” observed Mr Seagrave; “still, it is strange that he did not do something.”“It was very strange, sir,—at least, so it appeared at the time, but he was very fond of money, and irritated at the reports and observations which were made about him. But, to go on, sir, I was a strong, hardy boy, and, whenever I could escape from my mother or school, was always found by the water-side or on board of the vessels. In the summer-time I was half the day in water, and was a very good swimmer. My mother perceived my fondness for the profession, and tried all she could to divert my thoughts some other way. She told me of the dangers and hardships which sailors went through, and always ended with my father’s death and a flood of tears.“We certainly are of a perverse nature, as I have often heard the clergyman say, for it appears to me that we always wish to do that which we are told not to do. If my mother had not been always persuading me against going to sea, I really believe I might have stayed at home. I’ve often thought since, how selfish and unfeeling I must have been. I was too young to know what pain I was giving my mother, and how anxiety was preying upon her, all on my account. Children cannot feel it; if they did, they would do otherwise, for our hearts are seldom hard until we grow older.”“I agree with you, Ready,” said Mr Seagrave. “If children really knew how much their parents suffer when they behave ill, how alarmed they are at any proofs of wickedness in them, they would be much better.”“We never find that out, sir, till it is too late,” continued Ready. “Well, sir, I was little more than nine years old, when, on a very windy day, and the water rough, a hawser, by which a vessel was fast to the wharf, was carried away with a violent jerk, and the broken part, as it flew out, struck a person who was at the edge of the wharf, and knocked him into the sea. I heard the crying out, and the men from the wharf and from the ships were throwing ropes to him, but he could not catch hold of them; indeed, he could not swim well, and the water was rough. I caught a rope that had been hauled in again, and leapt off the wharf.“Young as I was, I swam like a duck, and put the rope into his hands just as he was going down. He clung to it as drowning men only can cling, and was hauled to the piles, and soon afterwards a boat, which had been lowered from the stern of one of the vessels, picked us both up. We were taken to a public-house, and put into bed till dry clothes could be sent for us; and then I found that the person I had saved was my godfather, Mr Masterman. Everyone was loud in my praise; and, although perhaps I ought not to say it, it was a bold act for so young a boy as I was. The sailors took me home to my mother in a sort of triumphal procession; and she, poor thing, when she heard what I had done, embraced me over and over again, one moment rejoicing at my preservation, and the next weeping bitterly at the thoughts of the danger I had encountered, and the probability that my bold spirit would lead me into still greater.”“But she did not blame you for what you had done?”“Oh no, William; she felt that I had done my duty towards my neighbour, and perhaps she felt in her own heart that I had returned good for evil; but she did not say so. The next day Mr Masterman called upon us; he certainly looked very foolish and confused when he asked for his godson, whom he had so long neglected. My mother, who felt how useful he might be to me, received him very kindly; but I had been often told of his neglect of me and my mother, and of his supposed unfair conduct towards my father, and had taken a violent dislike to him; his advances towards me were therefore very coolly received. I felt glad that I had saved him; but although I could not exactly understand my own feelings at the time, I am ashamed to say that my pleasure was not derived from having done a good action, so much as indulging a feeling of revenge in having put one under an obligation who had treated me ill; this arose from my proud spirit, which my mother could not check. So you see, William, there was very little merit in what I had done, as, after I had done it, I indulged those feelings which I ought to have checked.”“I think I could not have helped feeling the same, Ready, under such circumstances,” replied William.“The impulse which induced me to act was good,” replied Ready; “but the feeling which I indulged in afterwards took away the whole merit of the deed. I am stating what I believe to be the truth; and an old man like me can look upon the past without bias, but not without regret. Mr Masterman made but a short visit; he told my mother that he would now take care of me and bring me up to the business of a ship-builder as soon as I was old enough to leave school, and that in the meantime he would pay all my expenses. My poor mother was very grateful, and shed tears of joy; and when Mr Masterman went away, she embraced me, and said that now she was happy, as I should have a profession on shore and not go to sea. I must do justice to Mr Masterman; he kept his word and sent money to my mother, so that she became quite cheerful and comfortable, and everyone congratulated her, and she used to fondle me, and say, it was all through me that she was relieved from her distress.”“How happy that must have made you, Ready!” said William.“Yes, it did, but it made me also very proud. Strange to say, I could not conquer my dislike to Mr Masterman; I had nourished the feeling too long. I could not bear that my mother should be under obligations to him, or that he should pay for my schooling; it hurt my foolish pride, young as I then was; and although my mother was happy, I was not. Besides, as I was put to a better school, and was obliged to remain with the other boys, I could no longer run about the wharfs, or go on board the vessels, as before. I did not see then, as I do now, that it was all for my good but I became discontented and unhappy, merely because I was obliged to pay attention to my learning, and could no longer have my own way. The master complained of me; and Mr Masterman called and scolded me well. I became more disobedient, and then I was punished. This irritated me, and I made up my mind that I would run away to sea. You see, William, I was all in the wrong; and so will all boys be who think they know better than those who have charge of them; and now only see what I probably lost by my foolish conduct. I sayprobably, for no one can calculate or foresee what is to take place; but, as far as appearances went, I had every prospect of receiving a good education—of succeeding Mr Masterman in his business, and, very probably, of inheriting his large fortune; so that I might have been at this time a rich and well-educated man, surrounded with all the comforts and luxuries of life; perhaps with an amiable wife and large family round me, to make me still happier, instead of being what I now am, a poor, worn-out old seaman upon a desert isle. I point this out to you, William, to show how one false and foolish step in the young may affect their whole prospects in life; and, instead of enabling them to sail down with the stream of prosperity, may leave them to struggle against the current of adversity, as has been the case with me.”“It is, indeed, a good lesson, Ready,” said Mr Seagrave.“It is; not that I repine at my lot, even while I regret the errors that led to it. An all-wise and gracious God disposes of us as he thinks best; and I can now say with perfect sincerity, ‘Thy will, not mine, be done’.”“Your misfortunes have, however, proved an incalculable benefit to us, Ready,” observed Mrs Seagrave; “for had you not gone to sea, and been on board the ship when the crew deserted us, what would have become of us?”“Well, madam, it is some comfort to think that a worn-out old seaman like myself has been of some use.”

As so many cocoa-nut trees had been cut down to build the house, there were plenty of boughs lying in every direction, and William and Mr Seagrave had soon procured sufficient. In a very short time the boat was drawn up about ten yards from the water’s edge, which Ready said was quite sufficient; they then dug from under with their shovels until the boat was sunk about half down in the sand.

Having filled in the sand all round her up to her gunnel, the boat was then carefully covered over with the boughs, which were weighed down with sand that they might not be blown away.

“I don’t see why you should cover the boat up in this way, Ready; the rain won’t hurt her,” observed William.

“No, sir, the rain won’t do her any harm, but the sun will, when it bursts out occasionally; for it’s very powerful when it does shine, and it would split her all to pieces.”

“I forgot that,” replied William. “What shall we do now?”

“Suppose, as we have two hours to dinner-time, you run for the lines, William, and we’ll try for some fish.”

“We cannot all three of us fish with only two lines,” said Mr Seagrave.

“No, sir; and as William knows how to catch them, suppose you remain with him, and I will go up and collect wood and chips for Juno’s fire. She was hard pressed for it this morning, it was so wet; but, if once piled up, it will soon be dry. Be careful, Mr Seagrave, not to hold the lines tight in your hands, or you may be jerked into the water.”

Mr Seagrave and William were very fortunate; before the two hours were expired they had caught eight large fish, which they brought up to the house slung on the boat-hook. Tommy hallooed loudly for fish for dinner, and as they had caught so many, it was agreed that the dinner should be put off until some could be got ready, and they were not sorry to eat them instead of salt pork.

They had hardly sat down to table, when the rain came pattering down on the roof, and in a quarter of an hour the storm was as violent, and the thunder and lightning as terrific as on the day before. All outdoor labour was again suspended. Mrs Seagrave, Juno, and Caroline took their work, for there was plenty to do with the needle and thread, and Ready soon found employment for the rest. William and Mr Seagrave unlaid some thick rope, that Ready might make smaller and more useful rope with the yarns. Ready took up his sailing needles, and worked eyelet-holes in the canvas screens (which they had put up in a hurry), so that they might be drawn to and fro as required.

As soon as Ready had hung up the curtains, he looked under the bedsteads for a large bundle, and said, as he opened it, “I shall now decorate Madam Seagrave’s sleeping-place. It ought to be handsomer than the others.” The bundle was composed of the ship’s ensign, which was red, and a large, square, yellow flag with the name of the shipPacificin large black letters upon it. These two flags Ready festooned and tied up round the bed-place, so as to give it a very gay appearance, and also to hide the rough walls of the cottage.

“Indeed, Ready, I am much obliged to you,” said Mrs Seagrave, when he had finished; “it is really quite grand for this place.”

“It’s the best use we can put them to now, madam,” said Ready.

“I am afraid so,” replied Mr Seagrave, thoughtfully.

“Ready,” said William, after the candles were lighted, “you once half-promised me that you would tell me your history; I wish you would tell us some of it now, as it will pass away the evening.”

“Well, William, I did say so, and I shall keep my word. When you have heard my story, you will say that I have been very foolish in my time; and so I have; but if it proves a warning to you, it will, at all events, be of some use.”

Ready then commenced his history as follows:

“Of course, you wish to know who my father and mother were: that is soon told. My father was the captain of a merchant vessel, which traded from South Shields to Hamburg, and my poor mother, God bless her, was the daughter of a half-pay militia captain, who died about two months after their marriage. The property which the old gentleman had bequeathed to my mother was added to that which my father had already vested in the brig, and he then owned one-third of the vessel; the other two-thirds were the property of a very rich ship-builder and owner, of the name of Masterman. What with the profits of the share he held of the vessel and his pay as captain, my father was well to do. Mr Masterman, who had a very high opinion of my father, and gained much money by his exertions and good management, was present at the marriage, and when I was born, about a year afterwards, he stood for me as godfather. Every one considered that this was a most advantageous circumstance for me, and congratulated my father and mother; for Mr Masterman was a bachelor, of nearly sixty years, without any near relations. It is true, that he was very fond of money; but that, they said, was all the better, as he could not take it away with him when he died. An end, however, was soon put to all their worldly ideas, for a year after I was born, my father was drowned at sea, his vessel and the whole of her crew being lost on the Texel sands; and my mother found herself a widow, with a child scarcely weaned, when she was but twenty-two years of age.

“It was supposed that my mother would still have sufficient to live upon, as the ship had been insured at two-thirds of her value; but, to the astonishment of everybody, Mr Masterman contrived to make it appear that it was his two-thirds of the vessel which had been insured.”

“What is insurance?” inquired William.

“Insurance, my dear boy, is paying a certain sum to people who are called underwriters, that in case the vessel or cargo is lost or damaged, the loss or damage is made good to the owners of the vessel or cargo. You pay in proportion to the risk incurred. Supposing you wished to insure one thousand pounds on a vessel or cargo, and ten per cent was required, you would, if the vessel came home safe, pay the underwriters one hundred pounds; if, on the contrary, the vessel was lost, the underwriters would have to pay you one thousand pounds, the sum which you had insured. I beg your pardon for the interruption, Ready.”

“No need, Mr Seagrave; we never should lose an opportunity of teaching the young. Well, how far the assertion of Mr Masterman was correct or not, it was impossible at the time to say; but I do know that everybody cried out ‘shame’, and that if he did deprive the widow, he had much to answer for; for the Bible says, ‘Pure religion is to visit the fatherless and the widows in their affliction, and to keep yourself unspotted in the world’. The consequence was, that my mother had little or nothing to live upon; but she found friends who assisted her, and she worked embroidery, and contrived to get on somehow until I was eight or nine years of age.”

“But did not your godfather come forward to the assistance of your mother?” inquired Mr Seagrave.

“No, sir, strange to say, he did not; and that made people talk the more. I believe it was the abuse of him, which he did not fail to hear, and which he ascribed to my mother, which turned him away from us; perhaps it was his own conscience, for we always dislike those we have injured.”

“Unfortunately, there is great truth in that remark of yours, Ready,” observed Mr Seagrave; “still, it is strange that he did not do something.”

“It was very strange, sir,—at least, so it appeared at the time, but he was very fond of money, and irritated at the reports and observations which were made about him. But, to go on, sir, I was a strong, hardy boy, and, whenever I could escape from my mother or school, was always found by the water-side or on board of the vessels. In the summer-time I was half the day in water, and was a very good swimmer. My mother perceived my fondness for the profession, and tried all she could to divert my thoughts some other way. She told me of the dangers and hardships which sailors went through, and always ended with my father’s death and a flood of tears.

“We certainly are of a perverse nature, as I have often heard the clergyman say, for it appears to me that we always wish to do that which we are told not to do. If my mother had not been always persuading me against going to sea, I really believe I might have stayed at home. I’ve often thought since, how selfish and unfeeling I must have been. I was too young to know what pain I was giving my mother, and how anxiety was preying upon her, all on my account. Children cannot feel it; if they did, they would do otherwise, for our hearts are seldom hard until we grow older.”

“I agree with you, Ready,” said Mr Seagrave. “If children really knew how much their parents suffer when they behave ill, how alarmed they are at any proofs of wickedness in them, they would be much better.”

“We never find that out, sir, till it is too late,” continued Ready. “Well, sir, I was little more than nine years old, when, on a very windy day, and the water rough, a hawser, by which a vessel was fast to the wharf, was carried away with a violent jerk, and the broken part, as it flew out, struck a person who was at the edge of the wharf, and knocked him into the sea. I heard the crying out, and the men from the wharf and from the ships were throwing ropes to him, but he could not catch hold of them; indeed, he could not swim well, and the water was rough. I caught a rope that had been hauled in again, and leapt off the wharf.

“Young as I was, I swam like a duck, and put the rope into his hands just as he was going down. He clung to it as drowning men only can cling, and was hauled to the piles, and soon afterwards a boat, which had been lowered from the stern of one of the vessels, picked us both up. We were taken to a public-house, and put into bed till dry clothes could be sent for us; and then I found that the person I had saved was my godfather, Mr Masterman. Everyone was loud in my praise; and, although perhaps I ought not to say it, it was a bold act for so young a boy as I was. The sailors took me home to my mother in a sort of triumphal procession; and she, poor thing, when she heard what I had done, embraced me over and over again, one moment rejoicing at my preservation, and the next weeping bitterly at the thoughts of the danger I had encountered, and the probability that my bold spirit would lead me into still greater.”

“But she did not blame you for what you had done?”

“Oh no, William; she felt that I had done my duty towards my neighbour, and perhaps she felt in her own heart that I had returned good for evil; but she did not say so. The next day Mr Masterman called upon us; he certainly looked very foolish and confused when he asked for his godson, whom he had so long neglected. My mother, who felt how useful he might be to me, received him very kindly; but I had been often told of his neglect of me and my mother, and of his supposed unfair conduct towards my father, and had taken a violent dislike to him; his advances towards me were therefore very coolly received. I felt glad that I had saved him; but although I could not exactly understand my own feelings at the time, I am ashamed to say that my pleasure was not derived from having done a good action, so much as indulging a feeling of revenge in having put one under an obligation who had treated me ill; this arose from my proud spirit, which my mother could not check. So you see, William, there was very little merit in what I had done, as, after I had done it, I indulged those feelings which I ought to have checked.”

“I think I could not have helped feeling the same, Ready, under such circumstances,” replied William.

“The impulse which induced me to act was good,” replied Ready; “but the feeling which I indulged in afterwards took away the whole merit of the deed. I am stating what I believe to be the truth; and an old man like me can look upon the past without bias, but not without regret. Mr Masterman made but a short visit; he told my mother that he would now take care of me and bring me up to the business of a ship-builder as soon as I was old enough to leave school, and that in the meantime he would pay all my expenses. My poor mother was very grateful, and shed tears of joy; and when Mr Masterman went away, she embraced me, and said that now she was happy, as I should have a profession on shore and not go to sea. I must do justice to Mr Masterman; he kept his word and sent money to my mother, so that she became quite cheerful and comfortable, and everyone congratulated her, and she used to fondle me, and say, it was all through me that she was relieved from her distress.”

“How happy that must have made you, Ready!” said William.

“Yes, it did, but it made me also very proud. Strange to say, I could not conquer my dislike to Mr Masterman; I had nourished the feeling too long. I could not bear that my mother should be under obligations to him, or that he should pay for my schooling; it hurt my foolish pride, young as I then was; and although my mother was happy, I was not. Besides, as I was put to a better school, and was obliged to remain with the other boys, I could no longer run about the wharfs, or go on board the vessels, as before. I did not see then, as I do now, that it was all for my good but I became discontented and unhappy, merely because I was obliged to pay attention to my learning, and could no longer have my own way. The master complained of me; and Mr Masterman called and scolded me well. I became more disobedient, and then I was punished. This irritated me, and I made up my mind that I would run away to sea. You see, William, I was all in the wrong; and so will all boys be who think they know better than those who have charge of them; and now only see what I probably lost by my foolish conduct. I sayprobably, for no one can calculate or foresee what is to take place; but, as far as appearances went, I had every prospect of receiving a good education—of succeeding Mr Masterman in his business, and, very probably, of inheriting his large fortune; so that I might have been at this time a rich and well-educated man, surrounded with all the comforts and luxuries of life; perhaps with an amiable wife and large family round me, to make me still happier, instead of being what I now am, a poor, worn-out old seaman upon a desert isle. I point this out to you, William, to show how one false and foolish step in the young may affect their whole prospects in life; and, instead of enabling them to sail down with the stream of prosperity, may leave them to struggle against the current of adversity, as has been the case with me.”

“It is, indeed, a good lesson, Ready,” said Mr Seagrave.

“It is; not that I repine at my lot, even while I regret the errors that led to it. An all-wise and gracious God disposes of us as he thinks best; and I can now say with perfect sincerity, ‘Thy will, not mine, be done’.”

“Your misfortunes have, however, proved an incalculable benefit to us, Ready,” observed Mrs Seagrave; “for had you not gone to sea, and been on board the ship when the crew deserted us, what would have become of us?”

“Well, madam, it is some comfort to think that a worn-out old seaman like myself has been of some use.”

Chapter Thirty Two.The bleating of the kids woke them the next morning earlier than usual. The weather was again fine, and the sun shining brightly, and Ready turned out Nanny and her progeny. They had an excellent breakfast of fried fish, and then Mr Seagrave, Ready, and William went out to their work: the two first took down the tents, and spread the canvas on the ground, that it might be well dried, while William went in pursuit of the fowls, which had not been seen for a day or two. After half-an-hour’s search in the cocoa-nut grove, he heard the cock crow, and soon afterwards found them all. He threw them some split peas, which he had brought with him. They were hungry enough and followed him home to the house, where he left them and went to join Ready and his father.“William,” said Ready, “I think, now that we have spread out the tents, we will, if Mr Seagrave approves, all set to at once and knock up a fowl-house; it won’t be more than a day’s job, and then the creatures will have a home. There are four very thick cocoa-nut trees close to the house; we will build it under them; it will be a good job over.” Mr Seagrave assented, and they set immediately to work. There were many thin poles left, the tops of the cocoa-nut trees which had been cut down to build the house; these they nailed to the trunks of the four trees, so as to make a square, and then they ran up rafters for a pitched roof.“Now, sir, this is only rough work; we will first put up a perch or two for them, and then close in the side, and thatch the roof with cocoa-nut branches; but there’s Juno taking in the dinner, so we’ll finish it afterwards.”After their meal the work was renewed; Mr Seagrave collected the branches while William and Ready worked upon the sides and roof, and before the evening closed in, the fowl-house was complete. William enticed the fowls down to it with some more split peas, and then walked away.“Now, sir, the creatures will soon find their way in; and by and by, when I have time, I’ll make a door to the entrance.”“And now,” said William, “I think we had better roll up the canvas of the tents; we have had a splendid day, and may not be so fortunate to-morrow.”“Very true; we will get them housed, and stow them away under the bed-places; there is plenty of room.” By the time that they had folded up the canvas, and William had brought in Nanny and the kids, the sun had set, and they went into the house. Ready was requested to go on with his history, which he did as follows:—“I said last night that I determined to run away from school and go to sea, but I did not tell you how I managed it. I had no chance of getting out of the school unperceived, except after the boys were all put to bed. The room that I slept in was at the top of the house—the doors I knew were all locked; but there was a trap-door which led out on the roof, fastened by a bolt inside, and a ladder leading up to it; and I determined that I would make my escape by that way. As soon as all the other boys were fast asleep, I arose and dressed myself very quietly, and then left the room.“The moon shone bright, which was lucky for me, and I gained the trap-door without any noise. I had some difficulty in forcing it up, as it was heavy for a boy of my age; but I contrived to do so at last, and gained the roof of the house. I then began looking about me, to see how I was to get to the ground, and after walking to and fro several times, I decided that I could slip down by a large water-pipe; it was so far detached from the bricks, that I could get my small fingers round it. I climbed over the parapet, and, clinging to the pipe firmly with my hands and knees, I slid down, and arrived at the bottom in safety.”“It’s a wonder you did not break your neck, Ready,” observed Mrs Seagrave.“It was, indeed, ma’am. As soon as I was landed in the flowerbed, which was below, I hastened to the iron gates at the entrance, and soon climbed up and got to the other side into the road. I started as fast as I could towards the port, and when I arrived at the wharf, I perceived that a vessel had her topsails loose, and meant to take advantage of the ebb-tide which had just made; the men were singing ‘Yo heave yo,’ getting the anchor up; and as I stood watching, almost making up my mind that I would swim off to her, I perceived that a man pushed off in her jolly-boat, and was sculling to a post a little higher up, where a hawser had been made fast; I ran round, and arrived there before he had cast off the rope; without saying a word, I jumped into the boat.“‘What do you want, youngster?’ said the seaman.“‘I want to go to sea,’ said I, breathless; ‘take me on board—pray do.’“‘Well,’ said he, ‘I heard the captain say he wanted an apprentice, and so you may come.’“He sculled the boat back again to the vessel, and I climbed up her side.“‘Who are you?’ said the captain.“I told him that I wanted to go to sea.“‘You are too little and too young.’“‘No, I am not,’ replied I.“‘Why, do you think that you dare go aloft?’“‘I’ll show you,’ replied I; and I ran up the rigging like a cat, and went out at the topgallant yard-arm.“When I came down, the captain said, ‘Well, I think you’ll make a sharp seaman by and by; so I’ll take you, and, as soon as I get to London, I’ll bind you apprentice.’“The ship, which was a collier, was soon out of port, and before the day had dawned I found myself on the wide ocean, which was hereafter to be my home.“As soon as the hurry and confusion were over, I was examined by the captain, who appeared to me to be a very rough, harsh man; indeed, before the day was over I almost repented of the step which I had taken, and when I sat down cold and wet upon some old sail at night, the thoughts of my mother, and what distress I should occasion her, for the first time rushed into my mind, and I wept bitterly; but it was too late then. I have often thought, Mr Seagrave, that the life of hardship which I have since gone through has been a judgment on me for my cruelty to my mother, in leaving her the way I did. It broke her heart; a poor return, William, for all her care and kindness! God forgive me!”Old Ready left off for some little time, and the remainder of the party kept silence. Then he said—“I’ll leave off now, if you please: I don’t feel inclined to go on; my heart is full when I recall that foolish and wicked deed of mine.”

The bleating of the kids woke them the next morning earlier than usual. The weather was again fine, and the sun shining brightly, and Ready turned out Nanny and her progeny. They had an excellent breakfast of fried fish, and then Mr Seagrave, Ready, and William went out to their work: the two first took down the tents, and spread the canvas on the ground, that it might be well dried, while William went in pursuit of the fowls, which had not been seen for a day or two. After half-an-hour’s search in the cocoa-nut grove, he heard the cock crow, and soon afterwards found them all. He threw them some split peas, which he had brought with him. They were hungry enough and followed him home to the house, where he left them and went to join Ready and his father.

“William,” said Ready, “I think, now that we have spread out the tents, we will, if Mr Seagrave approves, all set to at once and knock up a fowl-house; it won’t be more than a day’s job, and then the creatures will have a home. There are four very thick cocoa-nut trees close to the house; we will build it under them; it will be a good job over.” Mr Seagrave assented, and they set immediately to work. There were many thin poles left, the tops of the cocoa-nut trees which had been cut down to build the house; these they nailed to the trunks of the four trees, so as to make a square, and then they ran up rafters for a pitched roof.

“Now, sir, this is only rough work; we will first put up a perch or two for them, and then close in the side, and thatch the roof with cocoa-nut branches; but there’s Juno taking in the dinner, so we’ll finish it afterwards.”

After their meal the work was renewed; Mr Seagrave collected the branches while William and Ready worked upon the sides and roof, and before the evening closed in, the fowl-house was complete. William enticed the fowls down to it with some more split peas, and then walked away.

“Now, sir, the creatures will soon find their way in; and by and by, when I have time, I’ll make a door to the entrance.”

“And now,” said William, “I think we had better roll up the canvas of the tents; we have had a splendid day, and may not be so fortunate to-morrow.”

“Very true; we will get them housed, and stow them away under the bed-places; there is plenty of room.” By the time that they had folded up the canvas, and William had brought in Nanny and the kids, the sun had set, and they went into the house. Ready was requested to go on with his history, which he did as follows:—

“I said last night that I determined to run away from school and go to sea, but I did not tell you how I managed it. I had no chance of getting out of the school unperceived, except after the boys were all put to bed. The room that I slept in was at the top of the house—the doors I knew were all locked; but there was a trap-door which led out on the roof, fastened by a bolt inside, and a ladder leading up to it; and I determined that I would make my escape by that way. As soon as all the other boys were fast asleep, I arose and dressed myself very quietly, and then left the room.

“The moon shone bright, which was lucky for me, and I gained the trap-door without any noise. I had some difficulty in forcing it up, as it was heavy for a boy of my age; but I contrived to do so at last, and gained the roof of the house. I then began looking about me, to see how I was to get to the ground, and after walking to and fro several times, I decided that I could slip down by a large water-pipe; it was so far detached from the bricks, that I could get my small fingers round it. I climbed over the parapet, and, clinging to the pipe firmly with my hands and knees, I slid down, and arrived at the bottom in safety.”

“It’s a wonder you did not break your neck, Ready,” observed Mrs Seagrave.

“It was, indeed, ma’am. As soon as I was landed in the flowerbed, which was below, I hastened to the iron gates at the entrance, and soon climbed up and got to the other side into the road. I started as fast as I could towards the port, and when I arrived at the wharf, I perceived that a vessel had her topsails loose, and meant to take advantage of the ebb-tide which had just made; the men were singing ‘Yo heave yo,’ getting the anchor up; and as I stood watching, almost making up my mind that I would swim off to her, I perceived that a man pushed off in her jolly-boat, and was sculling to a post a little higher up, where a hawser had been made fast; I ran round, and arrived there before he had cast off the rope; without saying a word, I jumped into the boat.

“‘What do you want, youngster?’ said the seaman.

“‘I want to go to sea,’ said I, breathless; ‘take me on board—pray do.’

“‘Well,’ said he, ‘I heard the captain say he wanted an apprentice, and so you may come.’

“He sculled the boat back again to the vessel, and I climbed up her side.

“‘Who are you?’ said the captain.

“I told him that I wanted to go to sea.

“‘You are too little and too young.’

“‘No, I am not,’ replied I.

“‘Why, do you think that you dare go aloft?’

“‘I’ll show you,’ replied I; and I ran up the rigging like a cat, and went out at the topgallant yard-arm.

“When I came down, the captain said, ‘Well, I think you’ll make a sharp seaman by and by; so I’ll take you, and, as soon as I get to London, I’ll bind you apprentice.’

“The ship, which was a collier, was soon out of port, and before the day had dawned I found myself on the wide ocean, which was hereafter to be my home.

“As soon as the hurry and confusion were over, I was examined by the captain, who appeared to me to be a very rough, harsh man; indeed, before the day was over I almost repented of the step which I had taken, and when I sat down cold and wet upon some old sail at night, the thoughts of my mother, and what distress I should occasion her, for the first time rushed into my mind, and I wept bitterly; but it was too late then. I have often thought, Mr Seagrave, that the life of hardship which I have since gone through has been a judgment on me for my cruelty to my mother, in leaving her the way I did. It broke her heart; a poor return, William, for all her care and kindness! God forgive me!”

Old Ready left off for some little time, and the remainder of the party kept silence. Then he said—“I’ll leave off now, if you please: I don’t feel inclined to go on; my heart is full when I recall that foolish and wicked deed of mine.”

Chapter Thirty Three.The next morning was fine, and as soon as breakfast was over, they took the wheels down to the turtle-pond, and Ready having speared one of the largest by means of a pike with a barb to it, which he had made on purpose, they hauled it on shore, slung it under the wheels, and took it up to the house. Having killed the turtle, and cut it up, Juno, under the directions of Ready, chose such portions as were required for the soup; and when the pot was on the fire, Ready, Mr Seagrave, and William set off with the cross-cut saw and hatchets, to commence felling the cocoa-nut trees for the building of the outhouse, which was to hold their stores, as soon as they could be brought round from the other side of the island.“I mean this to be our place of refuge in case of danger, sir,” observed Ready; “and therefore I have selected this thick part of the wood, as it is not very far from the house, and by cutting the path to it in a zigzag, it will be quite hidden from sight; and we must make the path just wide enough to allow the wheels to pass, and stump up the roots of the trees which we are obliged to cut down, otherwise the stumps would attract attention.”“I agree with you, Ready,” replied Mr Seagrave; “there is no saying what may happen.”“You see, sir, it is often the custom for the natives, in this part of the world, to come in their canoes from one island to another, merely to get cocoa-nuts. I can’t say that the other islands near us are inhabited, but still it is probable, and we cannot tell what the character of the people may be. I tell you this, but we had better not say a word to Mrs Seagrave, as it may distress her.”Mr Seagrave agreed, and Ready continued:“We are now near the spot, sir. You see, when we have got over this hill, where the trees are so very thick, the fall in the ground will assist in the concealment of the building. I should say we are very near right where we now stand.”“How far are we now from the house? We must not be too distant.”“I reckon we are not 150 yards in a straight line, although the road will, by its turning, make it double the distance.”“Then I think this spot will do very well.”“I’ll just mark out the trees which are to stand, Mr Seagrave, and those which are to be cut down, so as to leave about four feet of stump standing.”As soon as they had planned the building, the axes and saw were in full use, and tree after tree fell one upon the other. They worked hard till dinner-time, and were not sorry at the prospect of sitting down to a rich mess of turtle-soup.“My dear William, and you too, Mr Seagrave, how very warm you are!” said Mrs Seagrave; “you must not work so hard.”“Cutting down trees is very warm work, mother,” replied William, “and hard work will never hurt any one, especially when he dines off turtle-soup. Why, Tommy, what’s the matter with you?”“Tommy and I are at variance,” replied Mrs Seagrave. “I had my thimble this morning, and had commenced my sewing, when I was called out by Juno, and Caroline went with me, and Tommy was left in the house. When I came back I found him outside, and on going back to my work, there was no thimble to be found; I asked him if he had touched it, and his answer was that he would look for it. He did look, and said he could not find it; I have asked him several times if he took it away, and his only answer is that he will find it by and by.”“Tommy, did you take the thimble?” said Mr Seagrave, gravely.“I’ll find it by and by, papa.”“That’s not an answer. Did you take the thimble?”“I’ll find it by and by, papa,” said Tommy, whimpering.“That’s all the answer he will give me,” said Mrs Seagrave.“Well, then, he shall have no dinner till the thimble makes its appearance,” replied Mr Seagrave.Master Tommy began to cry at this intelligence. Juno appeared with the turtle-soup; and Tommy cried louder when they had said grace and commenced their dinner. They were all very hungry, and William sent his plate for another portion, which he had not commenced long before he put his finger in his mouth and pulled out something.“Why, mother, here’s the thimble in my soup,” cried William.“No wonder he said he would find it by and by,” said Ready, smiling; “he meant to have fished it up, I suppose, from what was left of the soup after dinner. Well, Mrs Seagrave, I don’t mean to say that Tommy is a good boy, but still, although he would not tell where the thimble was, he has not told a falsehood about it.”“No, he has not,” replied William. “I think, now that the thimble is found, if he begs pardon, papa will forgive him.”“Tommy, come here,” said Mr Seagrave. “Tell me why you put that thimble into the soup?”“I wanted to taste the soup. I wanted to fill the thimble; the soup burnt my fingers, and I let the thimble drop in.”“Well, a thimbleful wasn’t much, at all events,” observed Ready. “And why didn’t you tell your mamma where the thimble was?”“I was afraid mamma throw all the soup away, and then I get none for dinner.”“Oh! that was it, was it? Well, sir, I said you should have no dinner till the thimble was found, so, as it is found, you may have your dinner; but if you ever refuse to answer a question again, I shall punish you more severely.”Tommy was glad the lecture was over, and more glad to get his turtle-soup; he finished one plate, and, as he asked for another, he said, “Tommy won’t put thimble in again; put tin pot in next time.”After dinner they went to their work again, and did not come in again till sunset.“The clouds are gathering fast, sir,” observed Ready; “we shall have rain to-night.”“I fear we shall; but we must expect it now, Ready.”“Yes, sir; and by and by we shall have it for days together.”“Ready,” said Mrs Seagrave, “if you are not too tired, perhaps you will go on with your history.”“Certainly, ma’am, if you wish it,” replied Ready. “When I left off, I was on board of the collier, bound to London. We had a very fair wind, and a quick passage. I was very sick until we arrived in the Nore, and then I recovered, and, as you may suppose, was astonished at the busy scene, and the quantity of vessels which were going up and down the river. But I did not like my captain; he was very severe and brutal to the men; and the apprentice who was on board told me to run away, and get into another vessel, and not to bind myself apprentice to this captain, or I should be beat all day long, and be treated as bad as he was. I knew this was the case, as the captain kicked and cuffed him twenty times a day. The men said that he did not do so to me, for fear I should refuse to be his apprentice; but that, as soon as my indentures were signed, he would treat me in the same way.“Well, I made up my mind that I would not remain in the collier; and, as the captain had gone on shore, I had plenty of time to look about me. There was a large ship, which was ready to sail, lying in the stream; I spoke to two boys who were at the stairs in her boat, and they told me that they were very comfortable on board, and that the captain wanted two or three apprentices. I went on board with them, and offered myself. The captain asked me a great many questions, and I told him the truth, and why I did not like to remain in the collier. He agreed to take me; and I went on shore with him, signed my indentures, and received from him a sufficient supply of clothes; and, two days afterwards, we sailed for Bombay and China.”“But you wrote to your mother, Ready, did you not?” said William.“Yes, I did; for the captain desired me to do so, and he put a few lines at the bottom to comfort her; but, unfortunately, the letter, which was sent on shore by the cook, never arrived. Whether he dropped it, or forgot it till after the ship sailed, and then tore it up, I do not know; but, as I found out afterwards, it never did get to her hands.”“It was not your fault that the letter did not arrive safe,” said Mrs Seagrave.“No, madam, that was not my fault; the fault had been committed before.”“Don’t dwell any more upon that portion of your history, Ready; but tell us what took place after you sailed for the East Indies.”“Be it so, if you please. I certainly was very smart and active for my age, and soon became a great favourite on board, especially with the lady passengers, because I was such a little fellow. We arrived safely at Bombay, where our passengers went on shore, and in three weeks afterwards we sailed down the straits for China. It was war time, and we were very often chased by French privateers; but as we had a good crew and plenty of guns, none of them ventured to attack us, and we got safe to Macao, where we unloaded our cargo and took in teas. We had to wait some time for a convoy, and then sailed for England. When we were off the Isle of France, the convoy was dispersed in a gale; and three days afterwards, a French frigate bore down upon us, and after exchanging a few broadsides, we were compelled to haul down our colours. A lieutenant was sent on board with forty men to take charge of us, for we were a very rich prize to them. The captain and most of the crew were taken on board of the frigate, but ten Lascars and the boys were left in the Indiaman, to assist in taking her into the Isle of France, which was at that time in the hands of the French. I thought it hard that I was to go to prison at twelve years old; but I did not care much about it, and very soon I was as gay and merry as ever. We had made the island, and were on a wind beating up to the port, when a vessel was seen to windward, and although I could not understand what the Frenchmen said, I perceived that they were in a great fluster and very busy with their spy-glasses, and Jack Romer, one of my brother ’prentices who had been three years at sea, said to me, ‘I don’t think we’ll go to prison after all, Ready, for that vessel is an English man-of-war, if I’m not mistaken.’ At last she came down within three miles of us, and hoisted English colours and fired a gun. The Frenchmen put the ship before the wind, but it was of no use; the man-of-war came up with us very fast, and then the Frenchmen began to pack up their clothes, together with all the other things which they had collected out of the property of our captain and crew; a shot was fired which went clean over our heads, and then they left the helm, and Jack Romer went to it, and, with my help, hove the ship up in the wind; a boat came on board and took possession, and so there was one escape, at all events.“They sent a midshipman as prize-master on board of the vessel, and left all us, who had been taken prisoners by the French, in the vessel, to help to work her into port, as the captain did not wish to part with any more men of his own than was necessary. We soon made sail for England, quite delighted at having escaped a French prison, but, after all, we only exchanged it for a Dutch one.”“How do you mean?”“I mean that, two days afterwards, as we were rounding the Cape, another French vessel bore down upon us, and captured us. This time we did not find any friend in need, and were taken into Table Bay; for at that time the Cape of Good Hope was in the possession of the Dutch, who, as well as the French, were at war with England.”“How very unfortunate you were, Ready!” said Mrs Seagrave.“Yes, madam, we were, and I can’t say much in favour of a Dutch prison. However, I was very young at that time, and did not care much—I had a light heart.”

The next morning was fine, and as soon as breakfast was over, they took the wheels down to the turtle-pond, and Ready having speared one of the largest by means of a pike with a barb to it, which he had made on purpose, they hauled it on shore, slung it under the wheels, and took it up to the house. Having killed the turtle, and cut it up, Juno, under the directions of Ready, chose such portions as were required for the soup; and when the pot was on the fire, Ready, Mr Seagrave, and William set off with the cross-cut saw and hatchets, to commence felling the cocoa-nut trees for the building of the outhouse, which was to hold their stores, as soon as they could be brought round from the other side of the island.

“I mean this to be our place of refuge in case of danger, sir,” observed Ready; “and therefore I have selected this thick part of the wood, as it is not very far from the house, and by cutting the path to it in a zigzag, it will be quite hidden from sight; and we must make the path just wide enough to allow the wheels to pass, and stump up the roots of the trees which we are obliged to cut down, otherwise the stumps would attract attention.”

“I agree with you, Ready,” replied Mr Seagrave; “there is no saying what may happen.”

“You see, sir, it is often the custom for the natives, in this part of the world, to come in their canoes from one island to another, merely to get cocoa-nuts. I can’t say that the other islands near us are inhabited, but still it is probable, and we cannot tell what the character of the people may be. I tell you this, but we had better not say a word to Mrs Seagrave, as it may distress her.”

Mr Seagrave agreed, and Ready continued:

“We are now near the spot, sir. You see, when we have got over this hill, where the trees are so very thick, the fall in the ground will assist in the concealment of the building. I should say we are very near right where we now stand.”

“How far are we now from the house? We must not be too distant.”

“I reckon we are not 150 yards in a straight line, although the road will, by its turning, make it double the distance.”

“Then I think this spot will do very well.”

“I’ll just mark out the trees which are to stand, Mr Seagrave, and those which are to be cut down, so as to leave about four feet of stump standing.”

As soon as they had planned the building, the axes and saw were in full use, and tree after tree fell one upon the other. They worked hard till dinner-time, and were not sorry at the prospect of sitting down to a rich mess of turtle-soup.

“My dear William, and you too, Mr Seagrave, how very warm you are!” said Mrs Seagrave; “you must not work so hard.”

“Cutting down trees is very warm work, mother,” replied William, “and hard work will never hurt any one, especially when he dines off turtle-soup. Why, Tommy, what’s the matter with you?”

“Tommy and I are at variance,” replied Mrs Seagrave. “I had my thimble this morning, and had commenced my sewing, when I was called out by Juno, and Caroline went with me, and Tommy was left in the house. When I came back I found him outside, and on going back to my work, there was no thimble to be found; I asked him if he had touched it, and his answer was that he would look for it. He did look, and said he could not find it; I have asked him several times if he took it away, and his only answer is that he will find it by and by.”

“Tommy, did you take the thimble?” said Mr Seagrave, gravely.

“I’ll find it by and by, papa.”

“That’s not an answer. Did you take the thimble?”

“I’ll find it by and by, papa,” said Tommy, whimpering.

“That’s all the answer he will give me,” said Mrs Seagrave.

“Well, then, he shall have no dinner till the thimble makes its appearance,” replied Mr Seagrave.

Master Tommy began to cry at this intelligence. Juno appeared with the turtle-soup; and Tommy cried louder when they had said grace and commenced their dinner. They were all very hungry, and William sent his plate for another portion, which he had not commenced long before he put his finger in his mouth and pulled out something.

“Why, mother, here’s the thimble in my soup,” cried William.

“No wonder he said he would find it by and by,” said Ready, smiling; “he meant to have fished it up, I suppose, from what was left of the soup after dinner. Well, Mrs Seagrave, I don’t mean to say that Tommy is a good boy, but still, although he would not tell where the thimble was, he has not told a falsehood about it.”

“No, he has not,” replied William. “I think, now that the thimble is found, if he begs pardon, papa will forgive him.”

“Tommy, come here,” said Mr Seagrave. “Tell me why you put that thimble into the soup?”

“I wanted to taste the soup. I wanted to fill the thimble; the soup burnt my fingers, and I let the thimble drop in.”

“Well, a thimbleful wasn’t much, at all events,” observed Ready. “And why didn’t you tell your mamma where the thimble was?”

“I was afraid mamma throw all the soup away, and then I get none for dinner.”

“Oh! that was it, was it? Well, sir, I said you should have no dinner till the thimble was found, so, as it is found, you may have your dinner; but if you ever refuse to answer a question again, I shall punish you more severely.”

Tommy was glad the lecture was over, and more glad to get his turtle-soup; he finished one plate, and, as he asked for another, he said, “Tommy won’t put thimble in again; put tin pot in next time.”

After dinner they went to their work again, and did not come in again till sunset.

“The clouds are gathering fast, sir,” observed Ready; “we shall have rain to-night.”

“I fear we shall; but we must expect it now, Ready.”

“Yes, sir; and by and by we shall have it for days together.”

“Ready,” said Mrs Seagrave, “if you are not too tired, perhaps you will go on with your history.”

“Certainly, ma’am, if you wish it,” replied Ready. “When I left off, I was on board of the collier, bound to London. We had a very fair wind, and a quick passage. I was very sick until we arrived in the Nore, and then I recovered, and, as you may suppose, was astonished at the busy scene, and the quantity of vessels which were going up and down the river. But I did not like my captain; he was very severe and brutal to the men; and the apprentice who was on board told me to run away, and get into another vessel, and not to bind myself apprentice to this captain, or I should be beat all day long, and be treated as bad as he was. I knew this was the case, as the captain kicked and cuffed him twenty times a day. The men said that he did not do so to me, for fear I should refuse to be his apprentice; but that, as soon as my indentures were signed, he would treat me in the same way.

“Well, I made up my mind that I would not remain in the collier; and, as the captain had gone on shore, I had plenty of time to look about me. There was a large ship, which was ready to sail, lying in the stream; I spoke to two boys who were at the stairs in her boat, and they told me that they were very comfortable on board, and that the captain wanted two or three apprentices. I went on board with them, and offered myself. The captain asked me a great many questions, and I told him the truth, and why I did not like to remain in the collier. He agreed to take me; and I went on shore with him, signed my indentures, and received from him a sufficient supply of clothes; and, two days afterwards, we sailed for Bombay and China.”

“But you wrote to your mother, Ready, did you not?” said William.

“Yes, I did; for the captain desired me to do so, and he put a few lines at the bottom to comfort her; but, unfortunately, the letter, which was sent on shore by the cook, never arrived. Whether he dropped it, or forgot it till after the ship sailed, and then tore it up, I do not know; but, as I found out afterwards, it never did get to her hands.”

“It was not your fault that the letter did not arrive safe,” said Mrs Seagrave.

“No, madam, that was not my fault; the fault had been committed before.”

“Don’t dwell any more upon that portion of your history, Ready; but tell us what took place after you sailed for the East Indies.”

“Be it so, if you please. I certainly was very smart and active for my age, and soon became a great favourite on board, especially with the lady passengers, because I was such a little fellow. We arrived safely at Bombay, where our passengers went on shore, and in three weeks afterwards we sailed down the straits for China. It was war time, and we were very often chased by French privateers; but as we had a good crew and plenty of guns, none of them ventured to attack us, and we got safe to Macao, where we unloaded our cargo and took in teas. We had to wait some time for a convoy, and then sailed for England. When we were off the Isle of France, the convoy was dispersed in a gale; and three days afterwards, a French frigate bore down upon us, and after exchanging a few broadsides, we were compelled to haul down our colours. A lieutenant was sent on board with forty men to take charge of us, for we were a very rich prize to them. The captain and most of the crew were taken on board of the frigate, but ten Lascars and the boys were left in the Indiaman, to assist in taking her into the Isle of France, which was at that time in the hands of the French. I thought it hard that I was to go to prison at twelve years old; but I did not care much about it, and very soon I was as gay and merry as ever. We had made the island, and were on a wind beating up to the port, when a vessel was seen to windward, and although I could not understand what the Frenchmen said, I perceived that they were in a great fluster and very busy with their spy-glasses, and Jack Romer, one of my brother ’prentices who had been three years at sea, said to me, ‘I don’t think we’ll go to prison after all, Ready, for that vessel is an English man-of-war, if I’m not mistaken.’ At last she came down within three miles of us, and hoisted English colours and fired a gun. The Frenchmen put the ship before the wind, but it was of no use; the man-of-war came up with us very fast, and then the Frenchmen began to pack up their clothes, together with all the other things which they had collected out of the property of our captain and crew; a shot was fired which went clean over our heads, and then they left the helm, and Jack Romer went to it, and, with my help, hove the ship up in the wind; a boat came on board and took possession, and so there was one escape, at all events.

“They sent a midshipman as prize-master on board of the vessel, and left all us, who had been taken prisoners by the French, in the vessel, to help to work her into port, as the captain did not wish to part with any more men of his own than was necessary. We soon made sail for England, quite delighted at having escaped a French prison, but, after all, we only exchanged it for a Dutch one.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean that, two days afterwards, as we were rounding the Cape, another French vessel bore down upon us, and captured us. This time we did not find any friend in need, and were taken into Table Bay; for at that time the Cape of Good Hope was in the possession of the Dutch, who, as well as the French, were at war with England.”

“How very unfortunate you were, Ready!” said Mrs Seagrave.

“Yes, madam, we were, and I can’t say much in favour of a Dutch prison. However, I was very young at that time, and did not care much—I had a light heart.”

Chapter Thirty Four.A heavy storm came on soon after they had retired to rest; the lightning was so vivid that its flashes penetrated through the chinks of the door and windows, and the thunder burst upon them with a noise which prevented them obtaining any sleep. The children cried and trembled as they lay in the arms of Mrs Seagrave and Juno, who were almost as much alarmed themselves.“This is very awful,” said Mr Seagrave to Ready, for they had both risen from their beds.“It is indeed, sir; I never knew a more terrible storm than this.”“Merciful Heaven!” exclaimed Mr Seagrave.As he spoke, they were both thrown back half-stunned; a crash of thunder burst over the house, which shook everything in it; a sulphurous smell pervaded the building, and soon afterwards, when they recovered their feet, they perceived that the house was full of smoke, and they heard the wailing of the women and the shrieks of the children in the bed-places on the other side.“God have mercy on us!” exclaimed Ready, who was the first to recover himself, and who now attempted to ascertain the injury which had been done: “the lightning has struck us, and I fear that the house is on fire somewhere.”“My wife—my children!” exclaimed Mr Seagrave; “are they all safe?”“Yes, yes!” cried Mrs Seagrave, “all safe; Tommy has come to me; but where is Juno? Juno!”Juno answered not. William darted to the other side of the house, and found Juno lying on her side, motionless.“She is dead, father,” cried William.“Help me to carry her out of the house, Mr Seagrave,” said Ready, who had lifted up the poor girl; “she may be only stunned.”They carried Juno out of the house, and laid her on the ground; the rain poured down in torrents.Ready left them for a minute, to ascertain if the house was on fire; he found that it had been in flames at the further corner, but the rain had extinguished it. He then went back to Mr Seagrave and William, who were with Juno.“I will attend to the girl, sir,” said Ready; “go you and Master William into the house; Mrs Seagrave will be too much frightened if she is left alone at such an awful time. See, sir! Juno is not dead—her chest heaves—she will come to very soon; thank God for it!”William and Mr Seagrave returned to the house; they found Mrs Seagrave fainting with anxiety and fear. The information they brought, that Juno was not killed by the lightning, did much to restore her. William soothed little Albert, and Tommy in a few minutes was fast asleep again in his father’s arms. The storm now abated, and as the day began to break, Ready appeared with Juno, who was sufficiently recovered to be able to walk in with his support; she was put into her bed, and then Ready and Mr Seagrave went to examine if further mischief had been done. The lightning had come in at the further end of the house, at the part where the fireplace was intended to have been made.“We have been most mercifully preserved,” said Mr Seagrave.“Yes, sir, thanks be to God for all his goodness,” replied Ready.“I think we have a large roll of copper wire, Ready; have we not?” said Mr Seagrave.“Yes, sir, I was just thinking of it myself; we will have a lightning-conductor up the first thing.”It was now broad daylight. Mrs Seagrave dressed herself and the children, and as soon as she was ready, Mr Seagrave read such portions of the Psalms as were appropriate, and they earnestly joined in a prayer of thankfulness and humility. William went out to prepare the breakfast, and Ready procured the coil of copper wire from those stores which were stowed under the bed-places. This he unrolled, and stretched it out straight, and then went for the ladder, which was at the outhouse they had commenced building. As soon as breakfast was over, Ready and Mr Seagrave went out again to fix up the lightning-conductor, leaving William to do the work of Juno, who still remained fast asleep in her bed.“I think,” said Ready, “that one of those two trees which are close together will suit the best; they are not too near the house, and yet quite near enough for the wire to attract the lightning.”“I agree with you, Ready; but we must not leave both standing.”“No, sir, but we shall require them both to get up and fix the wire; after that we will cut down the other.”Ready put his ladder against one of the trees, and, taking with him the hammer and a bag of large spike-nails, drove one of the nails into the trunk of the tree till it was deep enough in to bear his weight; he then drove in another above it, and so he continued to do, standing upon one of them while he drove in another above, till he had reached the top of the tree, close to the boughs; he then descended, and, leaving the hammer behind him, took up a saw and small axe, and in about ten minutes he had cut off the head of the cocoa-nut tree, which remained a tall, bare pole.“Take care, Ready, how you come down,” said Mr Seagrave anxiously.“Never fear, sir,” replied Ready; “I’m not so young as I was, but I have been too often at the mast-head, much higher than this.”Ready came down again, and then cut down a small pole, to fix with a thick piece of pointed wire at the top of it, on the head of the cocoa-nut tree. He then went up, lashed the small pole to the head of the tree, made the end of the copper wire fast to the pointed wire, and then he descended. The other tree near to it was then cut down, and the lower end of the wire buried in the ground at the bottom of the tree on which the lightning-conductor had been fixed.“That’s a good job done, sir,” said Ready, wiping his face, for he was warm with the work.“Yes,” replied Mr Seagrave; “and we must put up another near the outhouse, or we may lose our stores.”“Very true, sir.”“You understand this, William, don’t you?” said his father.“O yes, papa; lightning is attracted by metal, and will now strike the point instead of the house, run down the wire, and only tear up the ground below.”“It’s coming on again, sir, as thick as ever,” observed the old man; “we shall do no work to-day, I’m afraid. I’ll just go and see where the stock are.”Juno was now up again, and said that she was quite well, with the exception of a headache. As Ready had predicted, the rain now came on again with great violence, and it was impossible to do any work out of doors. At the request of William he continued his narrative.Narrative of Old Ready.“Well, William, as soon as they had let go their anchor in Table Bay, we were all ordered on shore, and sent up to a prison close to the Government Gardens. We were not very carefully watched, as it appeared impossible for us to get away, and I must say we were well treated in every respect; but we were told that we should be sent to Holland in the first man-of-war which came into the bay, and we did not much like the idea.“There were, as I told you, some other boys as well as myself, who belonged to the Indiaman, and we kept very much together, not only because we were more of an age, but because we had been shipmates so long. Two of these boys, one of whom I have mentioned as Jack Romer, and the other Will Hastings, were my particular friends; and one day, as we were sitting under the wall warming ourselves, for it was winter time, Romer said, ‘How very easy it would be for us to get away, if we only knew where to go to!’“‘Yes,’ replied Hastings; ‘but where are we to go to, if it is not to the Hottentots and wild savages; and when we get there, what can we do?—we can’t get any further.’ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘I would rather be living free among savages, than be shut up in a prison.’ That was our first talk on the subject, but we had many others afterwards; and as the one or two Dutch soldiers who stood sentry spoke English, and we could talk a little Dutch, we obtained a good deal of information from them; for they had very often been sent to the frontiers of the colony. We continued to ask questions, and to talk among ourselves for about two months, and at last we resolved that we would make our escape. We should have done much better if we had remained where we were; but there is no putting old heads upon young shoulders. We saved up our provisions, bought some long Dutch knives, tied our few clothes up in bundles, and one dark night we contrived to remain in the yard without being perceived, when the prisoners were locked up; and raising a long pole, which lay in the yard, to the top of the wall, with a good deal of scrambling we contrived to get over it, and made off as fast as we could for the Table Mountain.”“What was your reason for going there, Ready?”“Why, Hastings, who was the oldest, and, I will say, the sharpest of the three, said that we had better stay up there for a few days, till we had made up our minds what to do, and try if we could not procure a musket or two, and ammunition; for, you see, we had money, as, when the Indiaman was first taken, the captain divided a keg of rupees, which was on board, among the officers and men, in proportion to the wages due to them, thinking it was better for the crew to have the money than to leave it for the Frenchmen; and we had spent very little while in prison. There was also another reason why he persuaded us to go to the Table Mountain, which was, that as soon as our escape was found out, they would send parties to look for us; thinking, of course, that we had made for the interior; and we should have less chance of being retaken if we travelled after the first search was over. The soldiers had told us of the lions, and other wild animals, and how dangerous it was to travel, and Hastings said, that not finding us, they would suppose we had been destroyed by the wild beasts, and would not look for us any more.”“Foolish indeed,” observed Mrs Seagrave, “to set off you knew not where, in a country full of wild beasts and savages.”“True enough, madam,” replied Ready. “We ran at first until we were out of breath, and then we walked on as fast as we could—not going right up the mountain, but keeping a slanting direction to the south-west, so as to get away from the town, and more towards False Bay.“We had walked about four hours, and began to feel very tired, when the day dawned, and then we looked out for a place to conceal ourselves in. We soon found a cave with a narrow entrance, large enough inside to hold half-a-dozen of such lads as we were, and we crawled in. It was quite dry, and, as we were very tired, we lay down with our heads on our bundles, intending to take a nap; but we had hardly made ourselves comfortable and shut our eyes, when we heard such a screaming and barking that we were frightened out of our lives almost. We could not think what it could be. At last Hastings peeped out, and began to laugh; so Romer and I looked out also, and there we saw about one hundred and fifty large baboons leaping and tumbling about in such a way as I never saw; they were bigger than we were—indeed, when they stood on their hind legs they were much taller, and they had very large white tusks. Some of them were females, with young ones on their backs, and they were just as active as the males. At last they played such antics, that we all burst out into a loud laugh, and we had not ceased when we found the grinning face of one of the largest of those brutes close to our own. He had dropped from the rock above us, like magic. We all three backed into the cave, very much frightened, for the teeth of the animal were enormous, and he looked very savage. He gave a shrill cry, and we perceived all the rest of the herd coming to him as fast as they could. I said that the cave was large enough to hold six of us; but there was a sort of inner cave which we had not gone into, as the entrance was much smaller. Romer cried out, ‘Let us go into the inside cave—we can get in one by one;’ and he backed in; Hastings followed with his bundle, and I hurried in after him just in time; for the baboons, who had been chattering to each other for half a minute, came into the outer cave just as I crawled into the inner. Five or six of them came in, all males, and very large. The first thing they did was to lay hold of Romer’s bundle, which they soon opened—at once they seized his provisions and rammed them into their pouches, and then they pulled out the other things and tore them all to pieces. As soon as they had done with the bundle, two of them came towards the inner cave and saw us. One put his long paw in to seize us; but Hastings gave him a slash with his knife, and the animal took his paw out again fast enough. It was laughable to see him hold out his hand to the others, and then taste the blood with the tip of his tongue, and such a chattering I never heard—they were evidently very angry, and more came into the cave and joined them; then another put in his hand, and received a cut just as before. At last, two or three at once tried to pull us out, but we beat them all off with our knives, wounding them all very severely. For about an hour they continued their attempts, and then they went away out of the cave, but remained at the mouth shrieking and howling. We began to be very tired of this work, and Romer said that he wished he was back in prison again; and so did I, I can assure you; but there was no getting out, for had we gone out the animals would have torn us to pieces. We agreed that we had no chance but the animals becoming tired and going away; and most anxious we were, for the excitement had made us very thirsty, and we wanted water. We remained for two hours in this way imprisoned by baboons, when all of a sudden a shrill cry was given by one of the animals, and the whole herd went galloping off as fast as they could, screaming louder than ever. We waited for a short time to see if they would return, and then Hastings crawled out first, and looking out of the cave very cautiously, said that they were all gone, and that he could see nothing but a Hottentot sitting down watching some cattle; we therefore all came out, very happy at our release. That was our first adventure; we had plenty afterwards; but I think it is now time we should go to bed. It is my opinion we shall have a fine day to-morrow, sir; but there’s no saying.”“I do so want to hear what happened to you afterwards, Ready,” said William.“Well, so you shall; but there’s a time for everything, and this is bed-time, unless you like to go with me; the weather has cleared up, and I want to catch a fish or two for to-morrow.”

A heavy storm came on soon after they had retired to rest; the lightning was so vivid that its flashes penetrated through the chinks of the door and windows, and the thunder burst upon them with a noise which prevented them obtaining any sleep. The children cried and trembled as they lay in the arms of Mrs Seagrave and Juno, who were almost as much alarmed themselves.

“This is very awful,” said Mr Seagrave to Ready, for they had both risen from their beds.

“It is indeed, sir; I never knew a more terrible storm than this.”

“Merciful Heaven!” exclaimed Mr Seagrave.

As he spoke, they were both thrown back half-stunned; a crash of thunder burst over the house, which shook everything in it; a sulphurous smell pervaded the building, and soon afterwards, when they recovered their feet, they perceived that the house was full of smoke, and they heard the wailing of the women and the shrieks of the children in the bed-places on the other side.

“God have mercy on us!” exclaimed Ready, who was the first to recover himself, and who now attempted to ascertain the injury which had been done: “the lightning has struck us, and I fear that the house is on fire somewhere.”

“My wife—my children!” exclaimed Mr Seagrave; “are they all safe?”

“Yes, yes!” cried Mrs Seagrave, “all safe; Tommy has come to me; but where is Juno? Juno!”

Juno answered not. William darted to the other side of the house, and found Juno lying on her side, motionless.

“She is dead, father,” cried William.

“Help me to carry her out of the house, Mr Seagrave,” said Ready, who had lifted up the poor girl; “she may be only stunned.”

They carried Juno out of the house, and laid her on the ground; the rain poured down in torrents.

Ready left them for a minute, to ascertain if the house was on fire; he found that it had been in flames at the further corner, but the rain had extinguished it. He then went back to Mr Seagrave and William, who were with Juno.

“I will attend to the girl, sir,” said Ready; “go you and Master William into the house; Mrs Seagrave will be too much frightened if she is left alone at such an awful time. See, sir! Juno is not dead—her chest heaves—she will come to very soon; thank God for it!”

William and Mr Seagrave returned to the house; they found Mrs Seagrave fainting with anxiety and fear. The information they brought, that Juno was not killed by the lightning, did much to restore her. William soothed little Albert, and Tommy in a few minutes was fast asleep again in his father’s arms. The storm now abated, and as the day began to break, Ready appeared with Juno, who was sufficiently recovered to be able to walk in with his support; she was put into her bed, and then Ready and Mr Seagrave went to examine if further mischief had been done. The lightning had come in at the further end of the house, at the part where the fireplace was intended to have been made.

“We have been most mercifully preserved,” said Mr Seagrave.

“Yes, sir, thanks be to God for all his goodness,” replied Ready.

“I think we have a large roll of copper wire, Ready; have we not?” said Mr Seagrave.

“Yes, sir, I was just thinking of it myself; we will have a lightning-conductor up the first thing.”

It was now broad daylight. Mrs Seagrave dressed herself and the children, and as soon as she was ready, Mr Seagrave read such portions of the Psalms as were appropriate, and they earnestly joined in a prayer of thankfulness and humility. William went out to prepare the breakfast, and Ready procured the coil of copper wire from those stores which were stowed under the bed-places. This he unrolled, and stretched it out straight, and then went for the ladder, which was at the outhouse they had commenced building. As soon as breakfast was over, Ready and Mr Seagrave went out again to fix up the lightning-conductor, leaving William to do the work of Juno, who still remained fast asleep in her bed.

“I think,” said Ready, “that one of those two trees which are close together will suit the best; they are not too near the house, and yet quite near enough for the wire to attract the lightning.”

“I agree with you, Ready; but we must not leave both standing.”

“No, sir, but we shall require them both to get up and fix the wire; after that we will cut down the other.”

Ready put his ladder against one of the trees, and, taking with him the hammer and a bag of large spike-nails, drove one of the nails into the trunk of the tree till it was deep enough in to bear his weight; he then drove in another above it, and so he continued to do, standing upon one of them while he drove in another above, till he had reached the top of the tree, close to the boughs; he then descended, and, leaving the hammer behind him, took up a saw and small axe, and in about ten minutes he had cut off the head of the cocoa-nut tree, which remained a tall, bare pole.

“Take care, Ready, how you come down,” said Mr Seagrave anxiously.

“Never fear, sir,” replied Ready; “I’m not so young as I was, but I have been too often at the mast-head, much higher than this.”

Ready came down again, and then cut down a small pole, to fix with a thick piece of pointed wire at the top of it, on the head of the cocoa-nut tree. He then went up, lashed the small pole to the head of the tree, made the end of the copper wire fast to the pointed wire, and then he descended. The other tree near to it was then cut down, and the lower end of the wire buried in the ground at the bottom of the tree on which the lightning-conductor had been fixed.

“That’s a good job done, sir,” said Ready, wiping his face, for he was warm with the work.

“Yes,” replied Mr Seagrave; “and we must put up another near the outhouse, or we may lose our stores.”

“Very true, sir.”

“You understand this, William, don’t you?” said his father.

“O yes, papa; lightning is attracted by metal, and will now strike the point instead of the house, run down the wire, and only tear up the ground below.”

“It’s coming on again, sir, as thick as ever,” observed the old man; “we shall do no work to-day, I’m afraid. I’ll just go and see where the stock are.”

Juno was now up again, and said that she was quite well, with the exception of a headache. As Ready had predicted, the rain now came on again with great violence, and it was impossible to do any work out of doors. At the request of William he continued his narrative.

“Well, William, as soon as they had let go their anchor in Table Bay, we were all ordered on shore, and sent up to a prison close to the Government Gardens. We were not very carefully watched, as it appeared impossible for us to get away, and I must say we were well treated in every respect; but we were told that we should be sent to Holland in the first man-of-war which came into the bay, and we did not much like the idea.

“There were, as I told you, some other boys as well as myself, who belonged to the Indiaman, and we kept very much together, not only because we were more of an age, but because we had been shipmates so long. Two of these boys, one of whom I have mentioned as Jack Romer, and the other Will Hastings, were my particular friends; and one day, as we were sitting under the wall warming ourselves, for it was winter time, Romer said, ‘How very easy it would be for us to get away, if we only knew where to go to!’

“‘Yes,’ replied Hastings; ‘but where are we to go to, if it is not to the Hottentots and wild savages; and when we get there, what can we do?—we can’t get any further.’ ‘Well,’ said I, ‘I would rather be living free among savages, than be shut up in a prison.’ That was our first talk on the subject, but we had many others afterwards; and as the one or two Dutch soldiers who stood sentry spoke English, and we could talk a little Dutch, we obtained a good deal of information from them; for they had very often been sent to the frontiers of the colony. We continued to ask questions, and to talk among ourselves for about two months, and at last we resolved that we would make our escape. We should have done much better if we had remained where we were; but there is no putting old heads upon young shoulders. We saved up our provisions, bought some long Dutch knives, tied our few clothes up in bundles, and one dark night we contrived to remain in the yard without being perceived, when the prisoners were locked up; and raising a long pole, which lay in the yard, to the top of the wall, with a good deal of scrambling we contrived to get over it, and made off as fast as we could for the Table Mountain.”

“What was your reason for going there, Ready?”

“Why, Hastings, who was the oldest, and, I will say, the sharpest of the three, said that we had better stay up there for a few days, till we had made up our minds what to do, and try if we could not procure a musket or two, and ammunition; for, you see, we had money, as, when the Indiaman was first taken, the captain divided a keg of rupees, which was on board, among the officers and men, in proportion to the wages due to them, thinking it was better for the crew to have the money than to leave it for the Frenchmen; and we had spent very little while in prison. There was also another reason why he persuaded us to go to the Table Mountain, which was, that as soon as our escape was found out, they would send parties to look for us; thinking, of course, that we had made for the interior; and we should have less chance of being retaken if we travelled after the first search was over. The soldiers had told us of the lions, and other wild animals, and how dangerous it was to travel, and Hastings said, that not finding us, they would suppose we had been destroyed by the wild beasts, and would not look for us any more.”

“Foolish indeed,” observed Mrs Seagrave, “to set off you knew not where, in a country full of wild beasts and savages.”

“True enough, madam,” replied Ready. “We ran at first until we were out of breath, and then we walked on as fast as we could—not going right up the mountain, but keeping a slanting direction to the south-west, so as to get away from the town, and more towards False Bay.

“We had walked about four hours, and began to feel very tired, when the day dawned, and then we looked out for a place to conceal ourselves in. We soon found a cave with a narrow entrance, large enough inside to hold half-a-dozen of such lads as we were, and we crawled in. It was quite dry, and, as we were very tired, we lay down with our heads on our bundles, intending to take a nap; but we had hardly made ourselves comfortable and shut our eyes, when we heard such a screaming and barking that we were frightened out of our lives almost. We could not think what it could be. At last Hastings peeped out, and began to laugh; so Romer and I looked out also, and there we saw about one hundred and fifty large baboons leaping and tumbling about in such a way as I never saw; they were bigger than we were—indeed, when they stood on their hind legs they were much taller, and they had very large white tusks. Some of them were females, with young ones on their backs, and they were just as active as the males. At last they played such antics, that we all burst out into a loud laugh, and we had not ceased when we found the grinning face of one of the largest of those brutes close to our own. He had dropped from the rock above us, like magic. We all three backed into the cave, very much frightened, for the teeth of the animal were enormous, and he looked very savage. He gave a shrill cry, and we perceived all the rest of the herd coming to him as fast as they could. I said that the cave was large enough to hold six of us; but there was a sort of inner cave which we had not gone into, as the entrance was much smaller. Romer cried out, ‘Let us go into the inside cave—we can get in one by one;’ and he backed in; Hastings followed with his bundle, and I hurried in after him just in time; for the baboons, who had been chattering to each other for half a minute, came into the outer cave just as I crawled into the inner. Five or six of them came in, all males, and very large. The first thing they did was to lay hold of Romer’s bundle, which they soon opened—at once they seized his provisions and rammed them into their pouches, and then they pulled out the other things and tore them all to pieces. As soon as they had done with the bundle, two of them came towards the inner cave and saw us. One put his long paw in to seize us; but Hastings gave him a slash with his knife, and the animal took his paw out again fast enough. It was laughable to see him hold out his hand to the others, and then taste the blood with the tip of his tongue, and such a chattering I never heard—they were evidently very angry, and more came into the cave and joined them; then another put in his hand, and received a cut just as before. At last, two or three at once tried to pull us out, but we beat them all off with our knives, wounding them all very severely. For about an hour they continued their attempts, and then they went away out of the cave, but remained at the mouth shrieking and howling. We began to be very tired of this work, and Romer said that he wished he was back in prison again; and so did I, I can assure you; but there was no getting out, for had we gone out the animals would have torn us to pieces. We agreed that we had no chance but the animals becoming tired and going away; and most anxious we were, for the excitement had made us very thirsty, and we wanted water. We remained for two hours in this way imprisoned by baboons, when all of a sudden a shrill cry was given by one of the animals, and the whole herd went galloping off as fast as they could, screaming louder than ever. We waited for a short time to see if they would return, and then Hastings crawled out first, and looking out of the cave very cautiously, said that they were all gone, and that he could see nothing but a Hottentot sitting down watching some cattle; we therefore all came out, very happy at our release. That was our first adventure; we had plenty afterwards; but I think it is now time we should go to bed. It is my opinion we shall have a fine day to-morrow, sir; but there’s no saying.”

“I do so want to hear what happened to you afterwards, Ready,” said William.

“Well, so you shall; but there’s a time for everything, and this is bed-time, unless you like to go with me; the weather has cleared up, and I want to catch a fish or two for to-morrow.”

Chapter Thirty Five.As Ready had predicted, the weather set in fine after the violent storm of which we have made mention. For a fortnight, with little intermission, it continued fine, and during that time, Ready, Mr Seagrave, and William worked from daylight till dusk at the storehouse, which they were so anxious to complete, and were so tired when their work was over, that even William did not ask Ready to go on with his history. At last the storehouse was complete, thatched and wattled in on three sides, leaving one open for ventilation; the lower part, which had been arranged for the folding of the stock at night and during the rainy season, was also wattled in with cocoa-nut boughs on three sides, and made a very comfortable retreat for the animals. The winding path to the storehouse was also cut through the cocoa-nut grove, but the stumps were not removed, as they could not spare the time. All the stores that they had brought round were put into the storehouse, and they were now ready to take up some other job. It was, however, agreed that, on the day after the building was finished, they should all have a day’s holiday, which they certainly did require. William caught some fish, a turtle was speared and wheeled up to the house; and they not only had a holiday, but a feast. Mr Seagrave and William had been walking on the beach with Mrs Seagrave and the children, while Ready was assisting Juno in cutting up the turtle; they had shown Mrs Seagrave the storehouse, and the goats with the four kids had been led there, as there was no longer any occasion for them to remain in the house. The weather was beautiful, and they agreed to go and examine the garden. They found that the seeds had not yet commenced sprouting, notwithstanding the heavy rains.“I should have thought that so much rain would have made them come up,” said Mrs Seagrave.“No, my dear,” replied Mr Seagrave; “they require more of the sun than they will have till the rainy season is nearly over; a few days like this, and they will soon be above-ground.”“Let us sit down on this knoll, it is quite dry,” said Mrs Seagrave. “I little thought,” continued she, “that I could have been so happy in a desert island. I thought I should feel the loss of books very severely, but I really do not think that I could have found time to read.”“Employment is a source of happiness, especially when you are usefully employed. An industrious person is always a happy person, provided he is not obliged to work too hard; and even where you have cause for unhappiness, nothing makes you forget it so soon as occupation.”“But, mamma, we shall not always have so much to do as we have now,” said William.“Of course not,” replied Mr Seagrave; “and then we shall find our books a great source of enjoyment. I am anxious to go to the other side of the island, and see what have been spared to us, and whether they have been much damaged; but that cannot be until after the rains are over, and we can use the boat again.“Look at this minute insect which is crawling on my finger,” said Mr Seagrave, turning to William: “what a number of legs it has!”“Yes, I have seen something like it in old books. How fast it runs with its little legs; thinner than hairs—how wonderful!”“Yes, William,” replied Mr Seagrave, “we have only to examine into any portion, however small, of creation, and we are immediately filled with wonder. There is nothing which points out to us the immensity and the omniscience of the Almighty more than the careful provision which has been made by Him for the smallest and most insignificant of created beings. This little animal is perhaps one of many millions, who have their term of existence, and their enjoyment, as well as we have. What is it?—an insect of the minutest kind, a nothing in creation; yet has the same care been bestowed upon its formation: these little legs, hardly visible, have their muscles and their sinews; and every other portion of its body is as complete, as fearfully and wonderfully fashioned, as our own. Such is his will; and what insects we ought to feel ourselves, when compared to the God of power and of love!”“Let me also point out to you, William,” continued Mr Seagrave, “the infinity of his creative power, displayed in endless variety. Amongst the millions of men that have been born, and died, if ever yet were there seen two faces or two bodies exactly alike; nay, if you could examine the leaves upon the trees, although there may be millions upon millions in a forest, you could not discover two leaves of precisely the same form and make.”“I have often tried in vain,” replied William; “yet some animals are so much alike, that I cannot perceive any difference between them—sheep, for instance.”“Very true; you cannot tell the difference, because you have not examined them; but a shepherd, if he has seven hundred sheep under his care, will know every one of them from the others; which proves that there must be a great difference between them, although not perceptible to the casual observer; and the same, no doubt, is the case with all other classes of animals.”“Yes, William,” observed Ready; “I have often wondered over the things that I have seen, and I have even in my ignorance felt what your papa has now told you; and it has brought into my mind the words of Job: ‘When I consider, I am afraid of him.’”“Papa,” said William, after a pause in the conversation, “you have referred to the variety—the wonderful variety—shown in the works of the Deity. Tell me some other prominent feature in creation.”“One of the most remarkable, William, is order.”“Point out to me, papa, where and in what that quality is most observable.”“Everywhere and in everything, my dear boy; whether we cast our eyes up to the heavens above us, or penetrate into the bowels of the earth, the principle of order is everywhere—everything is governed by fixed laws, which cannot be disobeyed: we have order in the seasons, in the tides, in the movement of the heavenly bodies, in the instinct of animals, in the duration of life assigned to each; from the elephant who lives more than a century, to the ephemeral fly, whose whole existence is limited to an hour.“Inanimate nature is subject to the same unvarying laws. Metals, and rocks, and earths, and all the mineral kingdom follow one law in their crystallisation, never varying from the form assigned to them; each atom depositing itself in the allotted place, until that form is complete: we have order in production, order in decay; but all is simple to him by whom the planets were thrown out into space, and were commanded to roll in their eternal orbits.”“Yes; the stars in the heavens are beautiful,” said William, “but they are not placed there in order.”“The fixed stars do not appear to us to be in order—that is, they do not stud the heavens at equal distances from each other as we view them; but you must recollect that they are at very different distances from this earth, spreading over all infinity of space; and we have reason to suppose that this our earth is but a mere unit in the multitude of created worlds, only one single portion of an infinite whole. As the stars now appear to us, they are useful to the mariner, enabling him to cross the trackless seas; and to the astronomer, who calculates the times and seasons.”“What do you mean, papa, by saying that this world of ours is supposed to be but one of a multitude of created worlds?”“Our little knowledge is bounded to this our own earth, which we have ascertained very satisfactorily to be but one of several planets revolving round our own sun. I say our own sun, because we have every reason to suppose that each of those fixed stars, and myriads now not visible to the naked eye, are all suns, bright and glorious as our own, and of course throwing light and heat upon unseen planets revolving round them. Does not this give you some idea of the vastness, the power, and the immensity of God?”“One almost loses one’s self in the imagination,” said Mrs Seagrave.“Yes,” replied Mr Seagrave; “and it has been surmised by some, who have felt in their hearts the magnificence of the Great Architect, that there must be some point of view in space where all those glorious suns, which seem to us confused in the heavens above us, will appear all symmetrically arranged, will there be viewed in regular order, whirling round in one stupendous and perfect system of beauty and design; and where can that be, if it is not in that heaven which we hope to gain?”There was a silence for a few moments, when William said, “They say that there are people who are atheists, papa. How can they be so if they only look around them? I am sure a mere examination of the works of God ought to make them good Christians.”“No, my child,” replied Mr Seagrave; “there you are in error. Few deny the existence of a Deity, and an examination of his works may make them good and devout men, but not Christians. There are good men to be found under every denomination, whether they be Jews, Mahomedans, or Pagans; but they are not Christians.”“Very true, papa.”“Faith in things seen, if I may use the term, my dear child, may induce men to acknowledge the power and goodness of the Almighty, but it will not make them wise to salvation; for that end, it is necessary, as the Apostle saith, to have faith in things not seen.”

As Ready had predicted, the weather set in fine after the violent storm of which we have made mention. For a fortnight, with little intermission, it continued fine, and during that time, Ready, Mr Seagrave, and William worked from daylight till dusk at the storehouse, which they were so anxious to complete, and were so tired when their work was over, that even William did not ask Ready to go on with his history. At last the storehouse was complete, thatched and wattled in on three sides, leaving one open for ventilation; the lower part, which had been arranged for the folding of the stock at night and during the rainy season, was also wattled in with cocoa-nut boughs on three sides, and made a very comfortable retreat for the animals. The winding path to the storehouse was also cut through the cocoa-nut grove, but the stumps were not removed, as they could not spare the time. All the stores that they had brought round were put into the storehouse, and they were now ready to take up some other job. It was, however, agreed that, on the day after the building was finished, they should all have a day’s holiday, which they certainly did require. William caught some fish, a turtle was speared and wheeled up to the house; and they not only had a holiday, but a feast. Mr Seagrave and William had been walking on the beach with Mrs Seagrave and the children, while Ready was assisting Juno in cutting up the turtle; they had shown Mrs Seagrave the storehouse, and the goats with the four kids had been led there, as there was no longer any occasion for them to remain in the house. The weather was beautiful, and they agreed to go and examine the garden. They found that the seeds had not yet commenced sprouting, notwithstanding the heavy rains.

“I should have thought that so much rain would have made them come up,” said Mrs Seagrave.

“No, my dear,” replied Mr Seagrave; “they require more of the sun than they will have till the rainy season is nearly over; a few days like this, and they will soon be above-ground.”

“Let us sit down on this knoll, it is quite dry,” said Mrs Seagrave. “I little thought,” continued she, “that I could have been so happy in a desert island. I thought I should feel the loss of books very severely, but I really do not think that I could have found time to read.”

“Employment is a source of happiness, especially when you are usefully employed. An industrious person is always a happy person, provided he is not obliged to work too hard; and even where you have cause for unhappiness, nothing makes you forget it so soon as occupation.”

“But, mamma, we shall not always have so much to do as we have now,” said William.

“Of course not,” replied Mr Seagrave; “and then we shall find our books a great source of enjoyment. I am anxious to go to the other side of the island, and see what have been spared to us, and whether they have been much damaged; but that cannot be until after the rains are over, and we can use the boat again.

“Look at this minute insect which is crawling on my finger,” said Mr Seagrave, turning to William: “what a number of legs it has!”

“Yes, I have seen something like it in old books. How fast it runs with its little legs; thinner than hairs—how wonderful!”

“Yes, William,” replied Mr Seagrave, “we have only to examine into any portion, however small, of creation, and we are immediately filled with wonder. There is nothing which points out to us the immensity and the omniscience of the Almighty more than the careful provision which has been made by Him for the smallest and most insignificant of created beings. This little animal is perhaps one of many millions, who have their term of existence, and their enjoyment, as well as we have. What is it?—an insect of the minutest kind, a nothing in creation; yet has the same care been bestowed upon its formation: these little legs, hardly visible, have their muscles and their sinews; and every other portion of its body is as complete, as fearfully and wonderfully fashioned, as our own. Such is his will; and what insects we ought to feel ourselves, when compared to the God of power and of love!”

“Let me also point out to you, William,” continued Mr Seagrave, “the infinity of his creative power, displayed in endless variety. Amongst the millions of men that have been born, and died, if ever yet were there seen two faces or two bodies exactly alike; nay, if you could examine the leaves upon the trees, although there may be millions upon millions in a forest, you could not discover two leaves of precisely the same form and make.”

“I have often tried in vain,” replied William; “yet some animals are so much alike, that I cannot perceive any difference between them—sheep, for instance.”

“Very true; you cannot tell the difference, because you have not examined them; but a shepherd, if he has seven hundred sheep under his care, will know every one of them from the others; which proves that there must be a great difference between them, although not perceptible to the casual observer; and the same, no doubt, is the case with all other classes of animals.”

“Yes, William,” observed Ready; “I have often wondered over the things that I have seen, and I have even in my ignorance felt what your papa has now told you; and it has brought into my mind the words of Job: ‘When I consider, I am afraid of him.’”

“Papa,” said William, after a pause in the conversation, “you have referred to the variety—the wonderful variety—shown in the works of the Deity. Tell me some other prominent feature in creation.”

“One of the most remarkable, William, is order.”

“Point out to me, papa, where and in what that quality is most observable.”

“Everywhere and in everything, my dear boy; whether we cast our eyes up to the heavens above us, or penetrate into the bowels of the earth, the principle of order is everywhere—everything is governed by fixed laws, which cannot be disobeyed: we have order in the seasons, in the tides, in the movement of the heavenly bodies, in the instinct of animals, in the duration of life assigned to each; from the elephant who lives more than a century, to the ephemeral fly, whose whole existence is limited to an hour.

“Inanimate nature is subject to the same unvarying laws. Metals, and rocks, and earths, and all the mineral kingdom follow one law in their crystallisation, never varying from the form assigned to them; each atom depositing itself in the allotted place, until that form is complete: we have order in production, order in decay; but all is simple to him by whom the planets were thrown out into space, and were commanded to roll in their eternal orbits.”

“Yes; the stars in the heavens are beautiful,” said William, “but they are not placed there in order.”

“The fixed stars do not appear to us to be in order—that is, they do not stud the heavens at equal distances from each other as we view them; but you must recollect that they are at very different distances from this earth, spreading over all infinity of space; and we have reason to suppose that this our earth is but a mere unit in the multitude of created worlds, only one single portion of an infinite whole. As the stars now appear to us, they are useful to the mariner, enabling him to cross the trackless seas; and to the astronomer, who calculates the times and seasons.”

“What do you mean, papa, by saying that this world of ours is supposed to be but one of a multitude of created worlds?”

“Our little knowledge is bounded to this our own earth, which we have ascertained very satisfactorily to be but one of several planets revolving round our own sun. I say our own sun, because we have every reason to suppose that each of those fixed stars, and myriads now not visible to the naked eye, are all suns, bright and glorious as our own, and of course throwing light and heat upon unseen planets revolving round them. Does not this give you some idea of the vastness, the power, and the immensity of God?”

“One almost loses one’s self in the imagination,” said Mrs Seagrave.

“Yes,” replied Mr Seagrave; “and it has been surmised by some, who have felt in their hearts the magnificence of the Great Architect, that there must be some point of view in space where all those glorious suns, which seem to us confused in the heavens above us, will appear all symmetrically arranged, will there be viewed in regular order, whirling round in one stupendous and perfect system of beauty and design; and where can that be, if it is not in that heaven which we hope to gain?”

There was a silence for a few moments, when William said, “They say that there are people who are atheists, papa. How can they be so if they only look around them? I am sure a mere examination of the works of God ought to make them good Christians.”

“No, my child,” replied Mr Seagrave; “there you are in error. Few deny the existence of a Deity, and an examination of his works may make them good and devout men, but not Christians. There are good men to be found under every denomination, whether they be Jews, Mahomedans, or Pagans; but they are not Christians.”

“Very true, papa.”

“Faith in things seen, if I may use the term, my dear child, may induce men to acknowledge the power and goodness of the Almighty, but it will not make them wise to salvation; for that end, it is necessary, as the Apostle saith, to have faith in things not seen.”

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