TALES OF THE SEA: 12 Maritime Adventure Novels in One Volume (Illustrated)
him, but it is important that we know the worst. Command yourself, my love; our attendant ascends; some knowledge of the truth may be gained from him.”
Mrs Wyllys gave her pupil an expressive sign to compose her features, while she herself resumed her usual, pensive air, with a calmness of mien that might have deceived one far more practised than the boy, who now came slowly into the cabin. Gertrude buried her face in a part of her attire, while the former addressed the individual who had just entered in a tone equally divided between kindness and concern.
“Roderick, child,” she commenced, “your eyelids are getting heavy. This service of a ship must be new to you?”
“It is so old as to keep me from sleeping on my watch,” coldly returned the boy.
“A careful mother would be better for one of your years, than the school of the boatswain. What is your age, Roderick?”
“I have seen years enough to be both wiser and better,” he answered, not without a shade of thought settling on his brow. “Another month will make me twenty.”
“Twenty! you trifle with my curiosity, urchin.”
“Did I say twenty, Madam! Fifteen would be nearer to the truth.”
“I believe you well. And how many of those years have you passed upon the water?”
“But two, in truth; though I often think them ten; and yet there are times when they seem but a day!”
“You are romantic early, boy. And how like you the trade of war?”
“War!”
“Of war. I speak plainly, do I not? Those who serve in a vessel that is constructed expressly for battle, follow the trade of war.”
“Oh! yes; war is certainly our trade.”
“And have you yet seen any of its horrors? Has this ship been in combat since your service?”
“This ship!”
“Surely this ship: Have you ever sailed in any other?”
“Never.”
“Then, it is of this ship that one must question you. Is prize-money plenty among your crew?”
“Abundant; they never want.”
“Then the vessel and Captain are both favourites. The sailor loves the ship and Commander that give him an active life.”
“Ay, Madam; our lives are active here. And some there are among us, too, who love both ship and Commander.”
“And have you mother, or friend, to profit by your earnings?”
“Have I”—
Struck with the tone of stupor with which the boy responded to her queries, the governess turned her head, to read, in a rapid glance, the language of his countenance. He stood in a sort of senseless amazement looking her full in the face, but with an eye far too vacant to prove that he was sensible of the image that filled it.
“Tell me, Roderick,” she continued, careful not to alarm his jealousy by any sudden allusion to his manner; “tell me of this life of yours. You find it merry?”
“I find it sad.”
“‘Tis strange. The young ship-boys are ever among the merriest of mortals. Perhaps your office! treats you with severity.”
No answer was given.
“I am then right: Your Captain is a tyrant?”
“You are wrong: Never has he said harsh or unkind word to me.”
“Ah! then he is gentle and kind. You are very happy, Roderick.”
“I—happy, Madam!”
“I speak plainly, and in English—happy.”
“Oh! yes, we are all very happy here.”
“It is well. A discontented ship is no paradise. And you are often in port, Roderick, to taste the sweets of the land?”
“I care but little for the land, Madam, could I only have friends in the ship that love me.”
“And have you not? Is not Mr Wilder your friend?”
“I know but little of him; I never saw him before”—
“When, Roderick?”
“Before we met in Newport.”
“In Newport?”
“Surely you know we both came from Newport, last.”
“Ah! I comprehend you. Then, your acquaintance with Mr Wilder commenced at Newport? It was while your ship was lying off the fort?”
“It was. I carried him the order to take command of the Bristol trader. He had only joined us the night before.”
“So lately! It was a young acquaintance indeed. But I suppose your Commander knew his merits?”
“It is so hoped among the people. But”—
“You were speaking, Roderick.”
“None here dare question the Captain for his reasons. Even I am obliged to be mute.”
“Even you!” exclaimed Mrs Wyllys, in a surprise that for the moment overcame her self-restraint. But the thought in which the boy was lost appeared to prevent his observing the sudden change in her manner. Indeed, so little did he know what was passing, that the governess touched the hand of Gertrude, and silently pointed out the insensible figure of the lad, without the slightest apprehension that the movement would be observed.
“What think you, Roderick,” continued his interrogator “would he refuse to answer us also?”
The boy started; and, as consciousness shot into his glance, it fell upon the soft and speaking countenance of Gertrude.
“Though her beauty be so rare,” he answered with vehemence, “let her not prize it too highly. Woman cannot tame his temper!”
“Is he then so hard of heart? Think you that a question from this fair one would be denied?”
“Hear me, Lady,” he said, with an earnestness that was no less remarkable than the plaintive softness of the tones in which he spoke; “I have seen more, in the last two crowded years of my life, than many youths would witness between childhood and the age of man. This is no place for innocence and beauty. Oh! quit the ship, if you leave it as you came, without a deck to lay your head under!”
“It may be too late to follow such advice,” Mrs Wyllys gravely replied, glancing her eye at the silent Gertrude as she spoke. “But tell me more of this extraordinary vessel. Roderick, you were not born to fill the station in which I find you?”
The boy shook his head, but remained with downcast eyes, apparently not disposed to answer further on such a subject.
“How is it that I find the ‘Dolphin’ bearing different hues to-day from what she did yesterday? and why is it that neither then, nor now, does she resemble in her paint, the slaver of Newport harbour?”
“And why is it,” returned the boy, with a smile in which melancholy struggled powerfully with bitterness “that none can look into the secret heart of him who makes those changes at will? If all remained the same, but the paint of the ship, one might still be happy in her!”
“Then, Roderick, you are not happy: Shall I intercede with Captain Heidegger for your discharge?”
“I could never wish to serve another.”
“How! Do you complain, and yet embrace your fetters?”
“I complain not.”
The governess eyed him closely; and, after a moment’s pause, she continued,—
“Is