diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-0.txt | 3635 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/76620-h.htm | 3907 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image001.jpg | bin | 0 -> 210250 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image002.jpg | bin | 0 -> 219062 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image003.jpg | bin | 0 -> 60572 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image004.jpg | bin | 0 -> 12712 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image005.jpg | bin | 0 -> 23754 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image006.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50177 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image007.jpg | bin | 0 -> 11967 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image008.jpg | bin | 0 -> 28689 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image009.jpg | bin | 0 -> 52111 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image010.jpg | bin | 0 -> 22071 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image011.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50723 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image012.jpg | bin | 0 -> 56888 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image013.jpg | bin | 0 -> 29611 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image014.jpg | bin | 0 -> 57573 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image015.jpg | bin | 0 -> 25034 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image016.jpg | bin | 0 -> 57514 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image017.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46628 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image018.jpg | bin | 0 -> 216495 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image019.jpg | bin | 0 -> 30278 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image020.jpg | bin | 0 -> 54060 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image021.jpg | bin | 0 -> 43757 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image022.jpg | bin | 0 -> 48217 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image023.jpg | bin | 0 -> 20190 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image024.jpg | bin | 0 -> 53560 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image025.jpg | bin | 0 -> 231040 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image026.jpg | bin | 0 -> 31262 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image027.jpg | bin | 0 -> 47828 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image028.jpg | bin | 0 -> 36201 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 76620-h/images/image029.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51258 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
34 files changed, 7558 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/76620-0.txt b/76620-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e34d49e --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,3635 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76620 *** + +Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed. + +[Illustration: "ONE MIGHT DO," THOUGHT TOM, LOOKING AT THE BRIGHT COINS. + _Frontispiece._] + + + + MOTHER'S GOLDEN GUINEAS. + + + BY + + ANNETTE LYSTER + + AUTHOR OF "GRANNIE," "FAITHFUL," "OUT IN THE COLD," + "THE WHITE GIPSY," "ALONE IN CROWDS," ETC. + + + + ILLUSTRATED BY F. G. KITTON. + + + + ————————————— + PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE + OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION APPOINTED BY THE + SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE. + ————————————— + + + LONDON: + SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE + NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, CHARING CROSS, W.C.; + 43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET. E.C. + BRIGHTON: 135, NORTH STREET. + NEW YORK: E. & J. B. YOUNG AND CO. + + + + [Illustration] + + CONTENTS. + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER + + I. BURDECK + + II. TOM MAKES A HORSE-SHOE + + III. TOM GOES TO SEA + + IV. PRESSED + + V. OLD GIDEON + + VI. THE ARTICLES OF WAR + + VII. "THREE CHEERS FOR CAPTAIN EGERTON!" + + VIII. A "CUTTING-OUT" EXPEDITION + + IX. PAID OFF + + X. TOM'S ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY GUINEAS + + XI. THE JOURNEY HOME + + XII. BETTER THAN GOLDEN GUINEAS + + + [Illustration] + + + + [Illustration] + + MOTHER'S GOLDEN GUINEAS. + + [Illustration] + +CHAPTER I. + +BURDECK. + +SOMEWHERE between Wakefield and Doncaster, but much nearer Wakefield, +there is a little village called Burdeck, which even in these days of +progress is but a small place, and of no importance in any way. But in +the days of which I am about to tell you something, it was so utterly +insignificant, so little known except to the few who lived there, +and to the nobleman of whose estate it formed part, that had it been +swallowed up by an earthquake, some time might have elapsed before +it was missed. Yet to the twenty or thirty families who lived there, +Burdeck was just as interesting and important as London is to such of +my readers as may happen to live there; nay, perhaps more important, +because you know other places as well as London, while to the people of +Burdeck, Burdeck was the world—with Wakefield at a distance. No coach +came near Burdeck; it returned no member to Parliament; a newspaper +would have been of little use, for there were few who could read, and +fewer still who cared to do so. + +In Burdeck it was held to be not quite commendable to do anything but +what one's parents had done in their day. The farms were not very +extensive, but the farmers throve and employed a good deal of labour, +the labourers living in the little village. There was almost no actual +poverty, and no discontent. Things were as they had always been, and +therefore were as they ought to be. I do not mean that there was no +grumbling; the Burdeckers were Englishmen, and they grumbled heartily +at many things. At the weather, at the charges Giles the blacksmith +made for shoeing horses, etc., at the extortion practised at the one +little shop, at the length of time the cobbler took to "welt" the +shoes; oh yes, they grumbled, but then they enjoyed it. If all these +small afflictions had been removed, if the weather had always suited +them, the blacksmith had lowered his prices, the bread, bacon, and +cheese had been cheaper, and the cobbler more punctual, Burdeck would +have been at a loss for something to talk about. There were many things +they could have better spared than their little grumbles. + +All this took place early in the present century, now growing very old. +Of course in these enlightened days no one grumbles. + +It was a lovely evening in June; the work of the day was done, and the +labourers had reached home, and were most of them employed in making +a solid meal, each in his own clean and comfortable kitchen. Burdeck +was a very clean place. The good women, not being overworked, kept a +bright look-out on each other, and to have a dirty, untidy house, or to +send out one's children ragged and unwashed, were sins soon visited by +general condemnation. + +But if there was one cottage more trimly-neat, inside and outside, +one garden better stocked with vegetables of the common sorts, and +brighter with the sweet old common flowers than the rest, that cottage +and garden belonged to Thomas Adderley, ploughman at the Hill Farm. +For Thomas was a sober, industrious man, and he had a wife who was a +treasure in herself; a good, busy, thrifty woman, who found time for +many small industries, besides bringing up her family carefully and +comfortably. + +There was a certain peddler who went his rounds regularly in that part +of the country, and he always brought to Mrs. Adderley a quantity of +woollen yarn, which she knit up into stockings, mittens, cuffs, and +comforters, all of which he bought from her at his next visit. Then, +too, she kept bees, and every autumn a dealer from Wakefield came out +with his light cart, and bought all her honey and spare wax. She also +kept a few hens, and if she did not make money by her eggs, she saved +money by them, which is as good; she seldom sold eggs, but the bacon +went twice as far when there was a fine dish of fried eggs with it. +She worked in the garden herself, and taught the children to help her, +so that honest Thomas could rest after his hard day's work, instead of +having to turn out after supper to dig his garden. There was a fine +apricot on one side of the cottage door, and a pear on the other, and +the Wakefield shopkeeper bought all the fruit. Mrs. Adderley pruned and +trimmed those trees herself, and woe betide the child who should be so +misguided as to touch the fruit. + +"I'm saving up against a rainy day," she said, "and you must help +instead of hindering. Look, now—I'll take down the box and show you my +golden guineas. One of these days you may be very glad to get help from +that box, and when you want it, you'll be welcome to it. But you must +not waste our substance now. Health and strength don't last for ever, +and I mean to have something saved against a rainy day." + +But even before a "rainy day" came, mother's golden guineas were called +upon for help. When Sam, the eldest son, set up the horse and cart by +which he now earned such good wages, mother gave him every penny she +had to help him, the rest he had saved himself. When Dolly, the only +girl, married Harry Sands, mother's golden guineas bought some useful +furniture for the young couple. And when poor Harry was killed by a +kick from a vicious horse, within a year of his marriage, and Dolly +broke her heart and died, leaving her baby to her mother's care, the +guineas had to pay for the two funerals. Poor mother! Little joy had +she in that expenditure, though you may be sure she was pleased to do +things "creditably." + +You may imagine that, with all these calls upon the hoard, the number +of guineas was not at any time very great. There would often be only +one, with a few silver coins on their way to be transformed into a +second by-and-by. Mrs. Adderley always got her friend the peddler to +take her silver and give her gold, for, she said, "one might be tempted +to spend a shilling or two, when one would not break into a guinea." +Sometimes there were three, and more than once there had been five—but +at the time when my story opens there were actually ten! For Sam had +saved up by degrees, and had repaid his mother what she had given +him when he bought his horse, and the fruit and honey had been very +abundant last year. They promised well now, and Mrs. Adderley, standing +in her doorway on the evening in June of which I spoke, mentioned this +pleasing fact to her good man Thomas, who was steadily eating bread, +bacon, and eggs, and drinking milk, in the cheery kitchen. + +Beside him sat his son Sam, and on his knee was perched little +Dolly, his grandchild, now three years old, and the pet of the whole +household. Mrs. Adderley's cup and plate showed that she had been +partaking of the meal; and there were another cup and plate on the +table, not used as yet. + +"Come your ways in, woman," said Thomas, as he popped a specially crisp +morsel of bacon into Dolly's ready mouth, "and finish your supper. I +doubt Tom wants no supper to-night." + +"Dear, dear, Thomas, I wish the lad was home! I don't know how he +expects to keep a place if he behaves like this!" + +"If he behaves like what?" inquired Thomas. "Come, my woman, you'll +have to tell me." + +"Well—but you won't be hard upon him, Thomas, for he's a spirity, +wild lad, and hardness will only harden him.—Oh, there's old Jerry +Dwight. Tom's always after him, with his talk of Hull and Liverpool and +sea-going that he's always gabbling about. Maybe he'll know.—Master +Dwight! Master Dwight! Stop a bit!" She ran to the little gate. "Did +you see our Tom to-day, Master Dwight?" + +"Did I see who?" said old Dwight, putting his hand up to his ear—only +to gain time, for he heard well enough. + +"Our Tom! He hasn't come home yet." + +"Your Tom? Ah yes, Tom—young Thomas Adderley. A fine, strapping, +stirring lad, is Tom. And don't you believe, Mrs. Adderley, that you'll +ever make such another as Sam out of Tom. Tom has notions. You just +give him a little money, and let him go seek his fortunes. Tom would—" + +"Master Dwight, I'm not one bit obliged to you for giving words to such +a notion. Seek his fortunes, indeed! Seek a halter, you mean. Your +wanderers do mostly end like that. Since I can remember, only two lads +left Burdeck, and one of them 'listed for a soldier, and was shot dead +in forran parts. The vicar rode over on a week-day to tell his mother, +and you might have heard her screams a mile off. And the other was +hanged in York city for sheep-stealing. Tom's a little bit idle and +rampagious, but he'll settle down and be a comfort yet, if you'll let +him alone with your talk of seeking fortunes. If fortunes are so easy +to come by, why didn't 'you' get one with all your wandering? You just +leave my Tom alone—do now, Master Dwight; I ask it as a favour." + +"I leave your Tom alone?" old Dwight piped up in his shrill, cracked +voice. "You get Tom to leave 'me' alone, and 'tis little I shall run +after him. Your Tom is just the plague of my life. I be three score +and ten years old, and 'twould become me to be thinking frequent of +my latter end. And just when I'm set down in a sunny corner most +conformable for a quiet think, with maybe a little nap to rest me after +it, comes your Tom, begging and praying to hear of my adventures when +young. Not that I blame him, for he's got some spirit and is clever +beyond most Burdeck folk, and no doubt he finds me better company than +a lot of fellows that never saw anything but Burdeck, and can scarce +believe that the sun shines on other places. + +"I've been to Hull, I have; and was born in Liverpool, and was once in +London. If you disbelieve me, ask my darter. No doubt Tom likes to hear +what one like me can tell him. But, anyhow, I didn't eat him alive this +time, for here he comes. Good evening, Mrs. Adderley. I must be getting +towards home." + +Mrs. Adderley looked, and beheld her hopeful Tom just parting from a +boy and girl of about his own age—Lucy Trayner and one of her numerous +brothers, part of a family which lived in the next cottage. Tom stood +talking to Lucy for a few moments, then came on, meeting old Dwight on +his way. + +"You'll catch it, my boy," said Dwight; "there's your mother on the +look-out for you." + +Tom laughed and ran on—a fine, well-grown, handsome lad of about +fifteen, tall for his age, and strong and active beyond the common. + +"Tom, where have you been all this day? Master Minchin sent a lass to +see about you, at twelve—and I thinking you had gone to your work like +a good lad!" + +"Well, mother, I told old Minchin last night that I'd never take hold +of a hay-fork again for him at fourpence a day. I do a man's work, and +he must give me a man's wages. I want to save some money. So, you see, +it's not my fault I wasn't at work. And I've had a grand day in the oak +wood with Lucy Trayner, and I'm as hungry as a wolf, so come along and +give me my supper." + +"Supper's over," she said, "and father's ill-pleased, and said you'd +get no supper to-night." + +Tom whistled a lively tune as they both walked up to the house. + +Thomas Adderley was now standing in the doorway. + +"Where have you been, Tom?" said he. + +"In the wood, father." + +"Not at your work at all, then? I suppose Farmer Minchin will be +dismissing you now—as Farmer Bell did at Christmas, and Farmer Cunlip +at Hallowmass! Tom, I never lifted my hand to one of ye yet, but seems +to me you'd be the better for a leathering." + +"Farmer Bell dismissed me because I said 'twasn't fair to make me work +Christmas Day, minding his horses, without paying me for it. Farmer +Cunlip said I was idle, but 'twas his own son was idle. Old Minchin +didn't dismiss me—'I' dismissed him." + +At these audacious words the whole family—father, mother, and +Sam—exclaimed, "Oh, laws!" Even little Dolly said it, but she was a +little late with it, and ended by a delighted burst of baby laughter. + +"I haven't said aught to surprise you so. I told old Minchin I would +not work for him any more at fourpence a day. I do as much as any of +the men, and he knows it, and I want to be saving money. He said he'd +see me further, so I didn't go to-day." + +"Mother," said Thomas, "this boy of yours will be a credit to us yet. +He'll come to the gallows as sure as eggs is eggs. The boldness of him! +I've had too much patience with you, Tom, that's how 'tis. Go to bed +this moment, without any supper, not so much as a crust. I'll go to +Farmer Minchin, and see if he'll overlook your folly just this once. +You're a boy till you're eighteen, as all Burdeck knows, and, boy or +man, you're bound to do as good a day's work as you can. Let me hear +no more of this nonsense. If Farmer Minchin won't take you back, I'll +go to Giles the blacksmith. Little Ben that blows the bellows is sick, +and I'll hire you to him. It's small pay, and Giles is as like to give +you a blow as a word—but 'twill do ye good. Now, mother, not a bite +of anything is he to get, but go to bed empty. Idle, saucy fellow, as +doesn't know when he's well off!" + +It was not often that quiet Thomas Adderley made so long a speech, and +that he should scold one of his children was a thing unheard of, as he +"left all that to the missus" generally. + +Accordingly, every one was much impressed. Dolly cried; Mrs. Adderley +looked vexed and sorry; Sam made his escape from the scene, and went to +visit Jane Waters, the girl he was slowly "courting;" even Tom failed +to whistle as he stole off to bed, and lay down, hungry and weary, to +think over his evil doings. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER II. + +TOM MAKES A HORSE-SHOE. + +ADDERLEY came home late that night, and found his wife waiting +for him, with a pint of beer warming on the hob, and a "bite" of +bread-and-cheese on the table, ready for him. + +"I thought you'd be hungry, Thomas," said she. "And now tell me, what +did Master Minchin say?" + +"Says Tom will come to the gallows yet." + +"O mercy! My fine boy! But I don't mind Master Minchin. He's a +hot-tempered man, and maybe he's angered at losing Tom." + +"Maybe, but he 'says' he's glad to be rid of him. Says as Tom puts the +other lads up to mischief, and gives impudence when spoken to. Only two +days gone, when he was helped to his dinner, he took his plate in his +two hands and walked all up the room to where Mrs. Minchin was cutting +the bacon, and holds out the plate to her, and says, 'Ma'am, will ye +please to show me the bacon?' says he. 'I see the cabbage and the +bread,' says he. Mrs. Minchin, she up'd and boxed his ears, and says +he, 'That's no argument,' and the men and lasses all sniggering." + +Mrs. Adderley turned her face away, and her voice shook a little as she +said— + +"O laws, how could he have the face? No wonder you look grave over it, +Thomas." + +"Mother, you're laughing." + +"Well," said she, "but will the Minchins take him back?" + +"No. 'He' would, but 'she' wouldn't have it. So I saw Giles, and 'tis +true he wants a boy. It's a poor place for a strapping fellow like +Tom—only twopence a day and his dinner. But it will take the conceit +out of him, and I'm not set on his earning money to save. Don't you be +soft with him, now, and say he may keep part of that twopence. Say he +eats more than twopence, but that it's better than nothing. I don't +believe it's for any good he wants to be saving. He ain't like Sam." + +"No, but you can't deny, Thomas, he's cleverer than Sam. See how he +mended them stools. Carpenter couldn't do it handier. See how he +patched his shoes t'other day. Cobbler couldn't beat it. And can tell +every letter, though he got no more schooling than the others, and Sam +can't tell the letters of his own name on his cart, no more than I can +myself. Oh, he's clever both with his head and his fingers, and if we +could 'prentice him in Wakefield, Thomas, he'd do well." + +"'Prentice him in Wakefield! Woman dear, are ye losing your wits? Why, +Master Bell's sons, two of 'em, is 'prenticed there, and I wonder what +Farmer Bell and my own master would say if I tried to do the like with +'my' son? Little work I'd get, I do expect. Set Tom up, forsooth! Let +him work honest for his daily bread, as his father, and my father, and +'his' father, ay, and 'his' father again, if so be he had one, did +before him. No good comes of being proud and above your station. I'll +keep Tom's nose to the grindstone for a goodish bit, and then maybe +master will take him on, under me, and I'll teach him to plough, and +have my eye upon him." + +With these words, Thomas swallowed the last morsel of bread-and-cheese, +and took up the pot of beer. + +"Here, mother, take your share; and don't fret about Tom—I'll soon +bring him in. Why, you've took no more than if you was a sparrer. Take +another drop. Ye won't? Well, here's your health, then. We can't waste +the good beer." + +He finished the beer slowly, the better to enjoy it, and then said in a +lower voice— + +"I think I'll have a look at Tom. If I find him awake and hungry, a +crust of bread won't set him up too much." + +He crossed the kitchen, and opened the door of the little room where +the boys slept. And finding Tom in bed and snoring, he never suspected +how nearly he had caught him wide awake and listening eagerly at the +keyhole. + +"He's asleep. He'll make up for it at breakfast, never fear," said +Thomas. "Sam isn't in bed." + +"No; he's not in yet. You go off to bed, and I'll wait for Sam. He +won't be long. Reg'lar as a clock, Sam is." + +"Jenny Waters is a lucky young maid," remarked Thomas. + +Mrs. Adderley said nothing—privately she thought her Sam a great deal +too good for Jane Waters. + +In a very short time, the house was shut up and every one was asleep, +save Tom. He was hungry, and could not get to sleep, so he lay thinking. + +"Reg'lar as clockwork, Sam is! Of course he is! He's just such another +as father. It's my belief father wouldn't rise in life if he could. I'm +not so. I want to get rich and have a farm, like old Minchin—only never +will I be such a screw. And I want to see the world, and to have a +chance to be something but a ploughman or a carter, and I will too. Old +Dwight says if I had a few guineas, but I'd go if I had a few shillings +saved. And I'm to blow the bellows—work fit for a four-year-old—for +twopence a day, and I'm not to be let save! Well, I'm glad I know it's +a set plan, for, if not, I might have gone on from day to day till I +got to be as stupid as the rest of them. To work with Giles till the +conceit is taken out of me, and then to learn ploughing under father's +eye! Well, we'll see." + +He fell asleep at last. When he had eaten a most tremendous breakfast +next morning, he asked very innocently— + +"Am I to go to Master Minchin's, father?" + +Father, very naturally, improved the occasion. + +Tom listened dutifully. Having heard that he was to go to the forge, he +said not one word of remonstrance, but walked off, whistling. He was +always whistling or singing. + +Tom kept his place for about a week, and if Giles had cared to teach +him his craft, this story would probably never have been written. For +Tom took a fancy to the blacksmith's work, and longed to try his hand +at it. And one day Giles, coming in suddenly, found his own hopeful +son, a lazy young giant, blowing the bellows, and Tom Adderley working +manfully at a horse-shoe. Moreover, at a better shoe than young Giles +had yet made, though he was supposed to be learning. Giles dismissed +Tom that night. + +"Little Ben," he said, "is all right now, and you will easily get work. +I don't want you about the forge, mind. Don't be coming here after my +boys—I won't have it." + +Tom whistled, and walked home. + +"Father, Giles has dismissed me." + +"And why, Tom?" + +"'Cause I made a better horse-shoe than young Giles can, and he's +afraid I'll learn the trade and set up for myself." + +"The conceit of this boy!" cried Thomas Adderley, much moved. "I must +go to Giles and see what he says." + +"I don't know what he'll say, father, but I've told you the truth. I +went to work to-day while he was out—young Giles is lazy and was glad +to give up the hammer to me. Old Giles came in, and when he looked +at the shoe, and then at me, I guessed how 'twould be. Three days, +mother—there's sixpence." + +Adderley went to the forge. Giles told him that Tom was idle, and had +spoilt a horse-shoe, fiddling at it with the hammer, because his eye +was off him for a moment. He preferred having little Ben, who was quite +well again. + +"My boy says he made a good horse-shoe," said Adderley. + +"Judge for yourself; there 'tis," answered Giles. + +But he did not say that he had heated the shoe and beaten it out of +shape since Tom's departure. + +"Tom Adderley's too clever for me," Giles said to his wife that night. +"He'd be a better smith in six months than our boy will ever be; it +wouldn't do at all." + +Thomas Adderley went home, much grieved at this fresh instance of +Tom's conceit. He hated to do it, but Tom really wanted a flogging so +badly that he must have one; and he had one, and was sent off to bed +afterwards. It was by no means a severe beating, and Tom was none the +worse—except mentally. He had told the truth, and father would not +believe him. He would have liked to be a blacksmith, and Giles would +not let him. He had lost one place after another, and knew that it +would be very hard to get work. + +"I'll run away," muttered Tom. "I'll go to sea, and be a sailor, and +see the world. I've good brains and strong arms, and I won't stay here +to be treated like a baby. Let me see now; I must have 'some' money. +Maybe Master Dwight would lend me some. He has savings, I know. I'll +ask him, anyhow." + +Tom was sent, next day, to work in the garden, as his father had +nothing better to propose. He worked for an hour or so, and then jumped +over the fence into the Trayners' garden. Peeping in at the window, he +saw his friend Lucy alone in the kitchen, so he ran round to the door +and went in. + +"Lucy dear, if you hear that I've run away, don't you believe it—I +mean, I'm going to run away, but I'll surely come back. I can't stay +here, Lucy. I'll go, and I'll see the world, and get a lot of money, +and then I'll come home and buy a farm, and marry you, Lucy, for I'm +very fond of you. Don't you tell any one that I said a word to you, but +I couldn't go with saying good-bye." + +Lucy, a pretty, gentle girl, not burdened with more brains or more +learning than her neighbours, was terribly frightened. She was sure +he'd be caught and brought home, and beaten. She was sure he'd be lost, +and starved to death. She was sure he'd get to be a great man, and +forget every one at Burdeck, including herself. Tom combated all these +predictions one by one; to the last, his reply was perhaps more sincere +than gallant. + +"That's impossible," said he, "for though I might forget you, Lucy, and +every one else, I never could forget mother—nor father, though he did +not believe me. Well, good-bye, Lucy; you'll see me again one of these +days—maybe riding in my carriage, or on a fine horse. 'Then' you'll be +proud of me. Mind now, keep my secret." + +He ran off, leaving Lucy in tears. + +Tom found old Dwight in his usual summer retreat, a warm corner in his +son-in-law's garden. It is to be hoped that he had reflected duly on +his latter end, for he was certainly taking the little doze which he +had mentioned as being refreshing after that exercise. However, he woke +up, and said he was glad to see Tom. + +"I like you, Tom. You've got some brains, and you know the difference +between a man like me and these fellows, honest fellows all of 'em, but +that never saw the tenth milestone out o' Burdeck." + +"I 'do' know the difference," said Tom, eagerly, "and I've made up my +mind, Master Dwight, that I'll do as you did. I'll see the world. I'm +going to run away. I'll be a sailor, and I'll make my fortune. I know I +shan't do it all at once, but you'll see, I'll do it. And I want your +advice and help." + +"Seems to me," said old Dwight, "as you've pretty well made up your +mind without my advice." + +"Yes—to go. But tell me what you would advise me to do." + +"Go to Hull—there's your place. How to get there, you say. Well, go to +Wakefield—you know the road that leads to Wakefield. There's a coach +goes through Wakefield, and at the coach office they'll tell you how to +get to Hull. But let me tell you, my lad, you might do better than go +for a sailor." + +"Oh, but I must see the world!" cried Tom. "I'm that tired of +everything here that it's like a hunger in me—the wish to see the +world. And, Master Dwight, would you lend me money enough to pay the +coach, and just to live till I get to Hull?" + +"Oh, that's a very different matter," said Master Dwight, slowly. "Tom, +I don't see how I could do that. To give you money to run away—when +your father found it out, he'd have me in Wakefield Jail, he would. +It's against the law, my boy. That's the plain truth. Only for that, I +should be very glad to oblige you, and I think you're quite right to +go, but I can't break the law for you." + +It did not occur to Tom, at the moment, to doubt Master Dwight's +assertion about the law. He looked very downcast. + +"D'ye mind, my boy, what you told me once about your mother having some +money saved? You talk her over, and get her to give you a guinea or so. +If she lent you a good sum—say, 'ten' guineas for argument's sake—you'd +be able to set up in some small way o' business, and you're sharp +enough to make money, if you once had a decent start. Tell her it's +only a lend, and that you'll surely pay it back. You'll do well, Tom; +and when you're a rich man, you'll remember poor old Jeremiah Dwight +that taught you, and heartened you up, and helped you all he could." + +Master Dwight seemed quite affected, no doubt by his own generosity +with Mrs. Adderley's money. If you ask me why he encouraged Tom to +run away, I must confess that it was partly because he had so often +sneered at the Burdeck people for their contented stupid ways that he +felt ashamed to say a word against the result of his own words. Again, +he found Burdeck very dull, and the row that would ensue when Tom was +missed promised to be amusing. + +"Well," remarked Tom, after a short pause for reflection, "you'll keep +my secret, Master Dwight, though you can't help me? For I shall go, +even if I go with only this—" holding out twopence—"in my pocket. I +must run home now, or I may be missed. Good-bye, Master Dwight; I'm +thankful to you for all you've taught me." + +He ran off, and found that he had not been missed. For the rest of the +day he worked very hard in the little garden. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER III. + +TOM GOES TO SEA. + +ALL that afternoon, as Tom hoed and thinned the growing crops in the +tiny garden, he was thinking over his difficulties, and determining +upon his future course of action. + +Not determining to run away, that was already a settled thing. That +very night should see him on his way. But not to Hull. Reflecting +over what had passed between himself and old Dwight, Tom did not feel +satisfied with the conduct of that old humbug, and it struck him that +old Dwight would, perhaps, give his father a hint to search for him on +the Wakefield road, and might even mention Hull. Dwight had told him +that there was a great seaport town on "the other side," as Tom put +it, called Liverpool. It was further off, Dwight said, but even if he +walked the whole way, he would get there in time. + +To walk he had no objection, but then he had no idea how long it would +take to get there, and to depend on twopence-worth of bread was not +to be thought of. Money "must" be had somehow. If he asked mother to +lend it, she would not only refuse, but she would tell his father all +about it. This would put an end to the whole thing, he would be so +well watched. To tell mother was out of the question. But when she saw +him back again with a pocketful of money, and dressed like the sailor +in Master Dwight's song-book—a volume out of which the old man had +taught the boy many a song—in blue jacket, loose trousers, blue cap, +and a knife with a twisted string to it, then she would forgive him, +no matter how he got the money, particularly as he would restore it to +her, and as much again as—well, as she had lent him. + +To come back a sailor, with plenty of money and grand stories about +foreign countries, such as he had heard from Master Dwight, who, +however, had never seen foreign countries himself—this was the least +unlikely of Tom's visions concerning his future return home. To drive +up to his father's door in a grand coach with six horses and four +servants—such as Master Dwight had seen in London—to ask,— + +"Does Master Adderley live here?" + +And then, when father, mother, Sam, and little Dolly had all gazed with +respectful admiration at this wonderful apparition, to say,— + +"Don't you know me? I'm Tom; and, mother, here's your money, and a lot +more—" + +This also was among those foolish visions. And before you laugh at him +and say that no boy of fifteen could have been such a fool, remember +that Tom, though naturally a clever, active-minded fellow, was more +ignorant than any boy of fifteen in these days could well imagine. +The only school in Burdeck was kept by an old woman, who could read +(after a fashion), but who could not write at all. She kept the +smaller children out of their mothers' way for a couple of hours every +day; some of them learned their letters, some did not. Tom knew all +the letters, both capital and small, and that was literally all the +knowledge for which he was indebted to his school-days. + +Things that we learn so early in life that I think some of us forget +that we did not know them by nature—that England is an island, for +instance, and what an island is; that all the world does not speak the +same language; that in some places it is very hot, and in others very +cold;—of all these common facts Tom was utterly ignorant, and very +ignorant people are very childish in their ideas. So you need not laugh +at poor Tom, who had bright, quick-working brains, and nothing for them +to work on. + +Then, again, he had hardly any knowledge of religion. Things were in a +sad state in England then, and Burdeck, like many another place, had no +resident clergyman. The little old grey church was opened for service +every Sunday at four o'clock, a gentleman who had two other churches to +serve read the service and preached a short sermon. Mrs. Adderley was +a God-fearing woman, and lived up to her light—would that we all did +the same. She taught Tom that if he was good, he would go to heaven, if +bad, to hell; that it was wrong to lie or steal; and that he ought to +say "Our Father" every morning and every night—at night adding the old +lines about "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—" and she could teach him no +more, for she knew no more. + +Well, to go back to Tom. He did not say to himself, in so many words, +"This night I'll open mother's hiding-place and take some of her golden +guineas." But, for all that, he had the thought in his mind, and +planned everything carefully. When night came, and he had been informed +that Farmer Bell would give him a few days' work gathering stones off a +field (Tom felt quite insulted), the family went to bed, and every one +was soon asleep. Every one but Tom, and he was particularly wide awake. + +He waited a good long time. Comfortable snores resounded through the +house—Sam snored nearly as loudly as his father. Tom got up and dressed +himself, but did not put on his shoes. The moon was bright, and there +were neither shutters nor curtains to any of the windows, so that he +had plenty of light. He got out his small stock of clothing and made it +up into a neat bundle, which he tied up in a gay red handkerchief. Then +he ventured out into the kitchen. + +On the top shelf of the dresser stood an old, old pot—so old that no +tinker would attempt the mending of it. In the pot there was a box, in +the box a cunningly tied up parcel, in the parcel a smaller box, and in +that box were "mother's golden guineas." There was no lock on either +box, Mrs. Adderley trusting for safety to the exceeding ingenuity of +her hiding-place. A worn-out iron pot! Who would think of searching in +it for her golden guineas? + +Tom quietly and cautiously lifted a stout stool, placed it before the +dresser, and took down the pot. He descended carefully from the stool, +and placed the pot on the floor. Then he lifted off the lid. After a +pause, he removed the various coverings, until he came to the little +wooden box which formed as it were the kernel of this big nut. + +"One might do," thought Tom, looking at the bright coins, "but then I +should be ever so much longer about making my fortune. It's better to +take—half. Yes, I'll take half. No, I'll take all! Mother won't mind my +taking all a bit more than if I take only half. It's only borrowing, +and when I pay it back double, as I mean to do, she'd rather get twenty +than only ten. Yes, but I do wish I could let her know that it's only +borrowing. It can't be helped; she'll know when I come back." + +And Tom took the ten golden guineas; then suddenly put one back into +the box, muttering— + +"I'll never 'say' I did that. I'll call it ten all the same." + +Well, do you know, for some time Tom felt more surprised at his own +moderation in replacing one guinea than at his bad conduct in taking +the rest! Surely it is true that "the heart is deceitful." + +He replaced the packings exactly as he found them, tied the money into +the corner of his neck-kerchief and hid it in his bosom, lifted the +pot to the old place, replaced the stool by the fire, and crept back +into his bedroom. Sam still slept profoundly. This was lucky, as Tom +had determined to leave the house by the little window just over his +own bed, as the house door creaked so much that to open it might be +dangerous. It was a very small window, but to judge by the ease and +quickness with which Tom, having first tossed out his bundle, crept +through and closed it from the outside, one might have been led to +conclude that it was not the first time he had used it as a means of +leaving the house. And indeed he had found it handy, in the apple +season. + +In the morning, great was the commotion. Tom was gone; so were his +clothes. Adderley, poor dull good man, would never have remarked +the footprints under Tom's window, but Mrs. Adderley saw them. She +insisted on going to question old Dwight, who, however, gave her no +real help, for he remarked that no doubt the lad would make for Hull, +by Wakefield. Thomas Adderley lost a day's work by walking to Wakefield +to make inquiries. Tom had not gone by any coach; that, he thought, he +could feel sure of. And Mr. Trotter, the shopkeeper who bought Mrs. +Adderley's fruit and honey, promised to write to a cousin in Hull and +have inquiries made there. But, as we know, Tom had gone in quite the +other direction, and so, of course, nothing came of these efforts. + +If Thomas lost a day's work looking for Tom, his wife lost many a +night's sleep thinking of him. But she did not discover the loss of her +golden guineas for some time. She never dreamed that Tom would touch +them. + +If I were to recount all Tom's adventures on his journey, my space +would be full. So I must content myself with saying that he got on much +better than he deserved, and that he reached Liverpool safely. So far +was he from feeling sorry for his conduct, that he had never been so +happy in all his life. The world was so large, the people so amusing, +and every morning he was laying up knowledge and experience for future +use. + +His natural shrewdness enabled him to behave prudently, and he +was fortunate in falling in with honest people when he arrived in +Liverpool. He asked a man who was painting some shutters in a small +street to tell him where he could get decent lodgings, and the man +pointed out a respectable place. The woman who managed this house took +a fancy to Tom's handsome face, and had many a talk with him. Finding +that he wished to go to sea, she introduced him to her cousin Peter +Robins, a man who had been a sailor all his life. Robins took the lad +to his captain, and finally Tom was transformed into "ship's boy" on +board the "Star of the Sea," commanded by Captain George Collins, +belonging to the great firm of Parker and Co., and trading to the West +Indies. + +Tom was very fortunate in his captain; indeed, in everything he was +more fortunate than he knew himself at the time. Those were rough days; +and many terrible tales are told of the sufferings of ship's boys, and +even of full-grown sailors, whose captain chanced to be a bad, cruel +man. But Captain Collins was a good, even-tempered man, very particular +about his men, and very just in all his dealings with them. Some +merchant captains allowed their men to bring with them a few articles +to sell on their own account, at the various ports at which they +touched; and Captain Collins was one of these. Robins had made quite a +nice sum of money in this way; and when Tom confided to him that he had +a little money and wished to do the same, Robins gave him all the help +he could. + +Tom became the happy proprietor of a little box filled with goods of +the most tempting description. Very much surprised was Tom when Robins +laughed heartily at his desire to "have a few warm woollen things for +the winter." + +"There's no winter out there, Tom!" + +"No winter? Mr. Robins, you're laughing at me." + +"For all that, 'tis very true. It's never cold there, and those black +fellows cannot stand cold at all. Our cook died at Port Royal one +voyage, and the captain hired a free black man to fill his place, +promising to bring him back without charge next voyage. Well, he never +had to do that; poor Quashy—he had a name, but we called him Quashy—he +died a day or so after we landed. Just the cold—nothing else." + +"Did you say 'black' people?" said Tom. "Not really black, for sure?" + +"Black as my shoe; and they'll always buy crimson or yellow +handkerchiefs to wear on their heads." + +"Well, I'm longing to be there," said Tom. And he paid for his goods, +but carefully concealed the rest of his money. However, Robins must +have perceived that he had some money left, for he presently said— + +"Tom, you had no need to go to sea. Why are you going?" + +"Oh, I want to see the world and make my fortune," replied Tom. + +"Well, I've made up my mind to go on with Captain Collins till I have a +certain sum of money saved. Then I mean to buy a good boat—a Portsmouth +wherry, maybe—and—set up for myself. You'll be a smart sailor by that +time, Tom, and I like your looks. If you turn out as I expect, I'll +give you a chance of making a fortune as 'is' a fortune. Not only a few +guineas saved up, but—" and Robins made a gesture, flinging out both +arms to indicate the immense size of the fortune "he" meant to make. + +Tom thought Mr. Robins a very nice man. + +The "Star of the Sea" sailed the next day—one of a number of vessels +which were convoyed by three frigates and a few smaller armed ships. +Without such protection no ships ventured far out of port in those days +of war and plunder. + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER IV. + +PRESSED. + +FOUR years have passed since Tom Adderley began his new career. He has +made four voyages with Captain Collins, and has risen from being ship's +boy to being coxswain of the captain's boat. This gave him plenty of +opportunities of landing and carrying on his own little trade; and Tom +had made thirty pounds, which he kept tied up in a little canvas bag. +He could pay his mother three times over, and she would be proud of her +sailor son. + +The Tom Adderley who was coming back to England with what seemed to +him a large sum of money, intending at last to visit his home and +repay the ten guineas (faithful to his resolution, he always thought +of them as ten) threefold, was a very different person from the slip +of a boy who had popped out so easily through the little window in his +father's cottage. He had grown a good deal, he was strong and brown +and sturdy, he walked with a little roll or swagger, call it which you +like, as sailors do; and he was more changed in mind and ideas than +in person. He could not read nor write, but he could keep accounts by +means of nicks in a stick, and never make a mistake in them. He had +learned to be a good sailor, for a merchant sailor; and he loved his +profession, and had not a wish beyond it. So that he was now as steady +and painstaking as he had once been idle and troublesome, he was well +thought of by others, and exceedingly well pleased with himself. + +As to being ashamed of having taken his mother's money, he was nothing +of the kind. The guineas had increased under his care. Whereas his +mother would probably have kept them locked up, laid up rather (Tom +laughed to himself as he remembered the old iron pot), idle and +useless, waiting for a "rainy day" that might never come. As to the +actual arrival of that rainy day, the idea never troubled his head. +Nothing ever happened in Burdeck, and nothing ever would happen. Father +and mother would live on, just as they had always lived, until he had +made enough to buy a farm and stock it. And for this, he would begin to +work and save as soon as he had been home and paid mother threefold. + +Yet Tom could remember the deaths of poor Harry Sands and his own +pretty sister Dolly. The remembrance might have been a warning to him, +but it was not. + +Tom was picturing to himself his return—his mother's delight, Sam's +half-envious admiration, his father's surprise—as he stood one day in +the top, holding lightly by the rigging, doing duty as "look-out man." +The merchant fleet, about forty ships of varying tonnage, some of them +carrying a couple of guns for self-defence, was sweeping along with a +favouring breeze; the four ships of war forming the convoy sailed two +on one side and two on the other of the fleet. They had had a splendid +voyage, and would, if the weather continued to favour them, soon see +England again. Some of them could have sailed much faster, had they +dared to leave the convoy, but this they could not do. + +Suddenly Tom's quick eye caught sight of an unexpected movement on +board the "Dauntless," the three-decker commanded by the senior captain +present. Presently up ran little coloured balls, which soon shook +themselves out into little flags. They were signalling, and not to the +fleet. Therefore Tom knew that the signals were intended to reach some +vessel seen from the tall mast of the great line-of-battle ship, but +not as yet visible to him. + +"'Dauntless' signalling!" he called out. + +And Mr. Boland, first mate, after a look through his glass, sent for +the captain. + +Tom saw that the captain was uneasy. Something seemed to worry him a +good deal. + +Presently Tom called again, "A sail!" + +"Where away?" called Captain Collins. + +"Coming up with 'Dauntless.' Starboard quarter, sir. 'Dauntless' +signalling!" + +The captain raised his long glasses, looked steadily, and then grunted +as if vexed. "Orders to lay to," said he; "and that means that the +stranger is a Frenchman, and that there are others at her heels. I +thought we were getting off without a fight this time." + +He then gave the necessary orders, and in ten minutes every ship had +furled sails and lay as nearly motionless as could be managed. + +"I don't understand this," Captain Collins presently remarked, "The +ships are not getting ready for action; they are remaining in their +stations. Aloft there! Any more sail?" + +"No, sir, none." + +"I don't like this; I don't like it at all," muttered Captain Collins. + +Meantime the stranger had overtaken the "Dauntless," and a boat was +seen to leave her and row towards the big ship. The new-comer was a +frigate, and Captain Collins pronounced her English. + +"Oh, then we're all right, sir," said Boland. + +"I hope so," replied the more experienced captain. + +Presently Tom gave notice that several boats were leaving the +"Dauntless." Captain Collins stood watching them as they swept over +the frisky little waves, steadily impelled by the skilful arms of +men-o'-war's men. The boats separated, each going towards one of the +merchant ships. The boat from the stranger steered straight for the +"Star of the Sea." + +"Yes," said Captain Collins; "I thought so! Robins, go aloft and send +Adderley down. You're safe; you're too old for them, if they can get +younger. Adderley, go below and stay there, if you're let. Brown, Carr, +Jones, and Seacombe, you go too. I must not overdo it; the rest must +remain and take their chance." + +The wary captain, shrewdly suspecting the errand on which the boat +came, had now sent the pick of his crew below. One of these men +enlightened Tom. + +"It's a press-gang, that's what 'tis. Yon frigate has lost some men, +and some of us will have to go." + +"Oh," cried young Carr, "and me that is to be married the week after I +get home. Poor Kitty, she has waited for me so faithful. Look ye, boys; +I'll hide here behind this barrel, and maybe they won't see me." + +"Whatever you do," said Seacombe, the eldest among them, "make no sort +o' resistance if you're took. For there's captains in the navy that +would flog ye for it at once." + +Tom felt very angry. He could hear, when this conversation ceased, +what was going on, on deck, and he stood listening with a miserable +conviction in his heart that he would be one of those selected. + +He heard the boat touch the ship's side. The next sounds proved that +several men had boarded the "Star." + +"Captain George Collins, I suppose?" said the young officer in command. + +"At your service," replied Captain Collins in a somewhat sulky voice. + +"I am Lieutenant Carteret, of his Majesty's ship 'Imogene.' We've been +in action and lost some of our men. We cannot leave the station, and we +cannot be short-handed. Captain Egerton regrets very much being obliged +to take such a step, but we must ask you to give us three men. Captain +Strayn, of the 'Dauntless,' says you can spare three. We mean to take +some from several ships, so as not to distress any." + +"What must be, must," said Captain Collins, "and I won't deny there's +justice in it. You defend us, and—My men, you heard what this gentleman +said?" + +"Will any of you volunteer?" said Mr. Carteret, who liked his present +duty as little as did Captain Collins. + +"Yes, sir; I may as well go willing," said that sly old fox, Robins, +knowing very well that the officer would take younger men. + +"No one else volunteers? Well, then, I must choose. But first, Mr. +Collins, do I see all your crew?" + +"Are ye all on deck, boys?" inquired Collins. + +"We're here," answered several voices. But Mr. Carteret, after looking +at the men for a moment, said to a little pink-and-white midshipman who +stood by his side— + +"Mr. Egerton, take two men and go below. Bring up any men you find +there." + +Mr. Egerton, aged twelve, thought it all great fun. He ran gleefully +down the ladder, and presently the sound of a scuffle was heard. + +At a word from Mr. Carteret, three more sailors went below, and very +soon the five young men were brought on deck, Dick Carr in custody, as +he had resisted when dragged out of his hiding-place. + +"Five skulkers, Mr. Carteret; and this fellow resisted." + +"Ah, well, we'll overlook that. Let him go, Collier. These are the men +for us. I'll take you—" pointing at Tom—"and you—" Dick Carr—"and you—" +the last being Jones. "Now, my lads, I'm sorry this duty fell to me, +for I hate having to do it. But I must do my duty, and you must submit. +You'll find yourselves better off in many ways than you are here; +plenty of fighting—every Englishman likes that—plenty of prize-money, +and a very comfortable ship. If I give you five minutes to get your +kits, will you keep faith with me, and give me no further trouble?" + +Tom stepped forward and said, "Captain Collins, must we go?" + +"No help for it, Adderley. Go below and get your kit." + +Tom lingered for a moment, but catching little Egerton grinning at him, +he walked off in sulky silence. Carr followed him. In a few minutes +they all reappeared, each man carrying a bundle. Tom had his precious +canvas bag tied up in his bundle, for as a sailor from the stranger's +boat had gone below with the "Star's" men, apparently to keep an eye on +them, Tom had not cared to be seen concealing it about his person. + +Captain Collins shook hands with each man as he went over the side. +Carr asked him to give a message to his Kitty, and Jones gave him some +money to carry to his old mother. Tom for a moment thought of doing +the same. He knew that Captain Collins would spare no trouble about +it. But then, how terribly the honour and glory of his return would be +impaired—to go home with no store of golden guineas, and causing no +surprise in Burdeck! No, a year or two could make no real difference to +mother, so he merely shook hands and went over the side. + +As Mr. Carteret was about to follow, Robins came up to him. "What about +me, sir? I volunteered." + +"I have a great mind to take you, you old humbug!" said the young +officer, laughing. + +The men laughed too—all except the three pressed men. And Robins +retreated very hastily. + +As they rowed to the frigate, Dick Carr, who was sitting beside Tom, +suddenly cried out, "I can't bear it, and I won't. Good-bye, Tom." And, +quick as light, he flung himself overboard. + +Tom grasped at him as he sprang, caught him by the leg, and held on. +Help was promptly given, and Carr was dragged into the boat again, and +handcuffed, but the plunge seemed to have brought him to his senses, +for he sat quite quiet. Tom now stooped to pick up his precious bundle, +which he had dropped at his feet when he saw what Carr was about. It +was gone! + +"My kit—my money!" he cried. + +"Your kit!" said Mr. Carteret. "What is the matter about it?" + +"It is gone!" said Tom. + +"It went overboard in the scuffle, sir," said one of the rowers. +"Summat heavy it seemed, too, for it went down like lead." + +"Are you 'sure' it went overboard?" cried Tom despairingly. + +"Never mind, my man," Mr. Carteret said kindly. "We'll rig you out on +board the 'Imogene.'" + +"But maybe you took it," Tom said to the rower who had spoken. "You're +the man that followed me below, and maybe you saw—" + +"Keep a civil tongue in your head, youngster," said the man, "or you'll +find the mess a little too hot for you. 'I' take your kit, forsooth! A +lubberly merchant sailor!" + +Tom sank down, utterly wretched. What followed, he did not know. When +he recovered himself a little, he was one of a long row of men, all +like himself taken from the merchant ships, and now standing before +a naval officer in the undress uniform of a post captain. A man of +middle height, with dark hair, grizzled here and there, and very curly; +handsome clear features, bronzed by many a burning sun, and strangely +light grey eyes. + +He looked at his new men kindly and gravely, and after a few minutes +spoke to them. + +"My lieutenants have done well; you are all fine fellows, and look +sailor-like and ship-shape. Nov, my lads, listen to me for a moment. +Necessity knows no law, and this was a plain case of necessity. I could +not leave the station; no ship on the station could spare me a single +man, and I can't have the old 'Imogene' short-handed, and see her towed +into a French port some fine day. I'm sorry for you, lads, and yet I'm +a little ashamed of you, too. Ashamed to find that Englishmen pull a +long face over having to serve their king and their country, to do +which is the bounden duty of every able-bodied man in times like these. +You'll live, I hope, to be proud of being king's men. And I'll see that +you have fair play, and share and share alike with the rest, of work +and of play, of grog and of prize-money, and—what some of you will +think best of all—the chances of winning honour and glory for your king +and Old England. Come now, three cheers for the king—King George and +Old England! And if you do your duty by me, you shall find that I'll do +mine by you." + +Three cheers, tolerably hearty ones, were raised. The little mite of a +middy who had been with Mr. Carteret was standing close to the captain, +whose son he was. + +"That fellow did not cheer," said he, pointing at Tom, "all because he +lost his kit!" + +"Mr. Egerton, go below," said the captain, shortly enough. "When you +are a little older and a little wiser, you will know that sometimes it +is well to be blind and deaf." + +Little Mr. Egerton coloured all over his pretty little impudent face, +and made off as fast as he could go. + +"What is your name?" Captain Egerton asked of Tom. + +"Adderley—Tom Adderley." + +"Say 'sir;' we must have no merchant ship manners here. Touch your cap +and say 'sir.' You lost your hit in saving this half-drowned lad here?" + +"Yes." + +Captain Egerton waited. Something in his cool, quiet eyes made Tom's +hand find its way to his cap, and forced him to add "sir," after a very +perceptible pause. + +"Well, go to the purser and tell him to rig you out comfortably. You +look a sailor, every inch of you, but don't ruin your chances by +showing temper.—You are Richard Carr, I think?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"If I overlook your silly conduct in the boat, will you promise better +behaviour for the future? I can make allowance for the surprise." + +"Yes, sir; I won't do the like no more." + +"That's right. Now go below and get dry." + +The captain turned away, and as soon as he was out of hearing, Tom +Adderley uttered a few words in a low, hissing tone—if his good mother +could have seen his face and heard those words, she would have cried +out in fear and amazement. An old sailor who stood near turned round +and said gently— + +"Don't thee use words like that, my lad. It's clear against the law of +God and the rules of the service. Come along, both of ye, and I'll show +you where to go. You'll like the life after a bit. I wouldn't change, +not to be a bishop!" + +Now, Gideon Terlizzeck was a fine-looking old salt, and a very good +man, but he was not exactly one's idea of a bishop, as he stood before +the two young men, hitching up his trousers and shaking his head +amiably at them, so that his stiff pigtail flew about, describing a +half-circle in the air. Many sailors of the Royal Navy still wore +pigtails, and Gideon had a splendid one—long and thick and nearly +white. Tom did not know what a bishop was, and replied roughly— + +"What's that to me? I say it's a shame, a cruel shame; it's unjust—it's +not to be put up with. I'll never do a stroke of work aboard this +prison of a frigate." + +"My lad," said old Terlizzeck, after a glance all round, "be you +thankful as none heard that but me. You've served aboard a trader all +your life, but maybe you know what I mean when I makes mention of the +boatswain's mate and the cat?" + +Tom started. "Let me see the man that will lay a hand on me!" said he, +with a flash in his eyes. + +"There's three hundred odd on board this here frigate would do it as +soon as look at you, if the captain gave the word. Now, don't you +be a fool, my lad. I'm sorry, for you—you seem to have some private +reason for being angry, but you'll only knock your own head against a +bulkhead, if you set yourself against discipline." + +Tom was silent, but his heart was very full, more of anger than of +sorrow. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER V. + +OLD GIDEON. + +TOM Adderley, for the first time in his life, had been forced to do +what he did not like. One way or another, he had generally had his own +way at home, and since he had gone to sea, all things had prospered +with him. All through his last voyage he had been looking forward to +his visit to Burdeck; wondering if Sam had married Jane Waters that +he was so sweet on; if little Dolly promised to be as pretty as her +poor mother; if old Dwight were still alive; if father would heartily +sanction his going to sea again (which he quite meant to do, anyhow); +above all, if mother would throw her arms round his neck, kiss his +brown face, and be proud of her sailor. Nay, he had even sent an +occasional thought in the direction of Lucy Trayner. Lucy must be quite +a woman now—would she have forgotten him? Ah, well! He would soon know. +And by thus thinking of home, he had begun to feel more real love for +his people than he had ever felt before; and added to this was the +pride of showing them how he had succeeded in life—how he could pay +thirty guineas for ten, and yet still have enough in hand to replenish +the box for his next voyage. + +And they had been so nearly home, too. And no one had a right to make +a man-o'-war's man of him against his will. So, being thoroughly out +of temper and disgusted with his lot, Tom vowed that the king should +have a bad bargain of him; he would be as useless, troublesome, and +disobedient as he could be, without actually getting punished. + +Well! He kept his word. No one knew what a smart sailor he really was, +and no one would have found it out from his proceedings now. He obeyed +orders, of course—he must indeed have been a reckless man who had +disobeyed orders on board a king's ship in those days, or, for that +matter, should try it in these, though flogging is no longer the order +of the day. But he did everything badly and slowly, and in a slovenly +way, causing Mr. Carteret to regret that he had been taken in by the +fellow's good looks, and Mr. Duncan, first lieutenant, to remark that +merchant captains seldom trained smart sailors. + +"That fellow hasn't sense enough to coil a rope," one sailor said to +another, while watching Tom at work one day. + +"Do you mean Tom Adderley?" cried Dick Carr, standing near. "Why, he's +the best sailor, all round, that ever I saw." + +"Oh, very like, but you're another of the same kidney," was the reply. + +"Carr's not a bad man," said Gideon Terlizzeck. + +"I couldn't hold a candle to Tom," replied Carr, laughing. + +"Did well enough aboard the 'Lively Polly,' or whatsoever you called +your old tub," said the first speaker. "But here, aboard the old +'Imogene,' he ain't up to the mark, that's plain." + +Old Gideon walked away and stood thinking—about Tom. + +"'Twould be a Christian deed to bring that poor lad to a better mind," +said he to himself, "before he makes himself a bad name and gets +punished, 'and' takes to drink, as lads do sometimes when they're +crossed in love or the like." + +So Gideon watched for an opportunity, and soon found one. Being on deck +one afternoon, he saw Tom, who was one of the men on duty, standing +alone, leaning over the taffrail, staring down into the water. Going +to his side, Gideon pulled out a couple of pieces of tobacco, and +said—just to start a conversation— + +"We can't smoke here, Tom, but do you chew? Hev a bit, if so." + +"I don't chew, nor yet smoke," Tom answered ungraciously. + +"I smoke, but I allow it's wasteful," answered Gideon. "Still, I don't +mind. A man must have some little comforts, and I have none depending +on me." + +Tom remained silent, keeping his shoulder turned to the speaker so as +to hide his face. + +"When I were a youngster, Tom Adderley," said the old man, approaching +his subject in what he considered a most diplomatic and delicate +way, "it befell me, as it do befall a many, for to fall in love. And +although it came to nothing, seeing the lass took up with a soldier +while I were at sea, and I found her a married woman and the mother +of three when I got back, still it caused me a deal o' thought—an +uneasiness, a pining in myself for some one that I could talk to about +her. Ay, in all the troubles of life, a friend is a help and a comfort. +You go with me so far?" + +"Oh yes," said Tom, carelessly. + +"And you're in trouble. And why I don't know, but you don't seem to +take overmuch to your old messmates, Carr and Jones. So it did seem to +me as you might find a relief in talking to one as has known trouble +and knows the way out of it." + +"There's no way out of mine," replied Tom. + +"Is it a love affair, Tom?" + +"Not it! I leave that balderdash to Dick Carr. No—and you can do +nothing for me, though I believe you mean kindly. I'd rather be left +alone." + +"Well, if I must. But, Tom, I do truly know a cure for all troubles. If +it's not love, Tom—Have you a mother at home?" + +The question was unexpected, and Tom was young and unhappy. He stood +quite still, with his back to Gideon, but his eyes filled, and a +strangled sob presently escaped him. + +"Can't ye let me alone?" he growled. "See now, you've made a baby of +me—me, that's been a sailor these four years! Yes, I have a mother, as +good a mother as ever lived; and I was going home to her, when—Well, +never mind." + +And Tom rubbed his eyes, and then put his hands into his pockets and +began whistling. + +Gideon listened to the clear, sweet sounds, and said when they ceased— + +"You've a sweet pipe, Tom; for all the world like a thrush. There was +one used to sing in an old elder-bush just over my mother's cottage, +away in Devonshire; and I do seem to hear that bird now, along o' you." + +"There was thrushes in Burdeck, too," said Tom. + +"Where's Burdeck? 'Your' place, I suppose. Is it in Cornwall?" + +"I—don't rightly know," answered Tom. "It's ten days from Liverpool, +but maybe I didn't go the shortest way." + +"Liverpool! Oh, I've been there," said Gideon. "Your ship belonged +there, I suppose?" + +"She does. She's there by this, and—Ah, well, never mind." + +"Four year at sea, and never saw your mother! It's hard to bear. But +we'll be going home—Plymouth, most like—and then you can work your +passage round to Liverpool, make sail for Burdeck, and—Eh, what's that +you say?" + +"That I'll never go now." + +Gideon stared. "Why so, mate?" said he. + +Tom put his arms on the top rail of the taffrail, and laid his head +down on them. + +"No use going now. I had my earnings, my savings—thirty golden +guineas!—to take to her; now they're at the bottom of the sea, they +tell me. No use going home now." + +"Why, lad, you said your mother were a good woman!" + +"Just as good a woman as ever lived," Tom replied. + +"And yet you think she'd fail to welcome her son, because he brought +her no money? Well, I wouldn't expect that, even of a bad mother. +Mostly, they do love their sons." + +"You don't understand," muttered Tom. + +"I understand this much, Tom. When I went home from my first voyage, +my mother—she's in heaven these thirty years—just catched me in her +two arms and cried hearty. And 'twas not till next day that I so much +as gave a thought to the handful of money I had for her. And, you may +believe me, 'twould be the same with your mother." + +"No, no; you don't know. Did your mother give consent to your being a +sailor?" + +"'Course she did. Father had been a sailor, my brothers were sailors; +it runs in the family," said Gideon. + +"But—mine didn't; nor yet father. We're inland folks. I ran away—if you +must know." + +"And I'm sorry to know it, Tom. And so you worked and saved, thinking +to buy forgiveness? Oh, boy, it's never to be bought; you'd get it +free! Listen to this here." + +He pulled out a small and shabby Bible. + +"What! Can you read?" said Tom, full of admiration. + +"A little, when I know what's coming. Luke fifteen—that's the place." +And, without further preface, he read the parable of the Prodigal Son. + +But it had by no means the effect he expected. Tom listened +attentively, but his face grew red and his eyes full of scorn. + +"And do ye think I'm going to do like he—a fellow as wasted his money, +and lived like a pig? I never did the like. No; till I can take mother +her golden guineas, I won't go anigh her. And since I lost them, I keep +thinking, thinking, she may be wanting them." + +"She lent you money, then? I thought you ran away?" + +"So I did. I—borrowed ten guineas she had saved. She lent Sam—that's my +brother—five or six to buy a horse and cart, and he paid her back. She +would have lent it to me, willing, for anything of that kind, but not +for going to sea to seek my fortune, because that's a thing our folk +don't understand. So I saved and worked for to pay her threefold, and I +had it—thirty golden guineas—in a canvas bag; and it was lost with my +kit when that everlasting booby, Dick Carr, wanted to drown himself, +and I wish I'd let him do it. My kit went in the kick-up—and that's all +about it." + +Gideon looked at him sadly. + +"Tom Adderley," said he, "I seem to see that you stole that money from +your mother?" + +"I did 'not!' I borrowed it—without leave." + +"Which is just stealing," said the old man. "And you thinking yourself +better than the son in the parable, who only spent what was his own!" + +"Wasted it shameful," said Tom, "and I never wasted a penny. Kept it +all for mother. And now they tell me the mermaids has it. And never +will Burdeck see me any more. 'I'll' never go home, snivelling to be +forgiven." + +"Truly then, Tom, you do need forgiveness as sorely as he, or any man, +ever did! And till you give up your wicked pride, and confess that +you've sinned, you're in a very bad way, Tom. And I'll pray for you, my +lad, for I misdoubt you don't pray for yourself." + +"No," said Tom. "I used to, but I've forgotten how. It don't matter. +Praying won't give me back my gold." + +"No, perhaps not, but it may make you content to lose it," said Gideon. + +"All hands to shorten sail!" sang out Mr. Carteret at this moment. + +And Tom, excited by this long talk, forgot to crawl unwillingly up the +rigging, and to handle the ropes as if they burnt his fingers. He was +one of the first on the yard, and did his work in splendid style, until +he saw Carr nudge one of the men and point at him. He relapsed into +stupidity and laziness at once. + +But Mr. Carteret, watching the men at their work, could not fail to +perceive this little incident, and from that time Tom had really a +hard life of it. Of course, he deserved it. I am not defending him. +What Captain Egerton had said was perfectly true; every man is bound +to defend his country and to obey his king, and this was what Tom +was asked to do. But he was very ignorant, and the loss of his money +embittered him. Without being actually insubordinate or impertinent, he +was a most troublesome, uncomfortable sort of sailor. + +Gideon Terlizzeck alone seemed inclined to befriend him, and for this +Tom was really grateful, though he never showed it. Gideon insisted +upon reading the Bible to him, and more than once asked him to join him +in prayer. But Tom kept up a sulky, distant air, and only seemed to +listen because he could not well help it. + +But in his own mind, he wondered why a man like Gideon, a favourite +both with officers and men, should take so much trouble about a sulky +cub like himself. Tom used those very words—"a sulky cub;" he chose to +appear like a sulky cub, and no one could deny that he succeeded to +perfection. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE ARTICLES OF WAR. + +OLD Gideon Terlizzeck, as the men all called him, was not really an +old man; he did not know his age exactly himself, so that I cannot +be expected to do so. There could hardly be a more striking evidence +than that afforded by his life, of what the grace of God can do for +us, even in very adverse circumstances. His mother had been one of the +earliest followers of John Wesley, when he preached in the fields near +her native place, which was in Cornwall. She married young, and was +early left a widow. She brought up her boys most carefully, and with +wonderful success—they all turned out well. If in many respects she was +but an ignorant woman, no wiser than others, she had the best learning +and the highest wisdom—she could read her Bible, and she loved it; she +could pray, and prayer brought her wisdom. + +You will find plenty of people in these days to tell you that the +Bible can teach you nothing, and that prayer is a superstitious waste +of time. But you will generally find that these are people who do not +read the Bible, and who do not pray. Those who do will tell you a very +different story. And surely common sense teaches us that these last +must know more about it than the others. Of religion only, among all +the studies pursued by man, does the world believe that those who have +only an outside acquaintance with it are better judges of the truth or +falsehood of its assertions, than those who know it well and love it +better than their lives. + +Well, to return to Gideon's mother. Her husband was a Plymouth man and +a sailor, and her sons were all sailors. As Gideon said, it ran in the +family. They were all dead now, except Gideon, who had been the eldest. +He had gone to sea as a boy, and had served afloat, with intervals of a +month or two, ever since. He had seen much hard fighting, had endured +much hardship; he had witnessed much sin, and heard much swearing and +bad language. Yet now, with his hair white, and his strength beginning +to be touched by the hand of age, Gideon had still the child's heart, +the child's faith, and the child's hope, with which he had left his +mother's cottage. I know he called himself a grievous sinner; that is +one of the contradictions of which outsiders can make nothing. But +though human, and therefore, of course, often going wrong, he was, +like the prophet Samuel, one who, having been given to God by a pious +mother, walked with God all the days of his life. + +Gideon was a shy man, and very humble. He was no great talker when the +men were all together, though to one companion he would talk freely. +The men liked him—he was always so kind and helpful; to be in trouble +was to have Gideon's hand held out to help you. They respected him; +his presence restrained the worst of them in the use of bad language, +and on Sundays they would often let him read the Bible to them. The +"Imogene" being a frigate, did not carry a chaplain, but the captain +read the Church service to the men every Sunday. It was the first time +that Tom had ever been brought into contact with religion since he left +his mother, and he was interested and impressed, in spite of himself. +But he did not show it in any way, and Gideon, who had taken a fancy to +him, was quite distressed about him. + +Tom's discontent was not lessened when he discovered that the "Imogene" +had only just come to the station, so that, for three or four years at +the least, he would be kept out of England. Though he said he would not +go home, yet now that he certainly 'could' not go, he longed to hear +something of his people. + +The "Imogene" was one of the small fleet employed in defending +England's West Indian possessions against being surprised by the +French, with whom, at that time, we were at war. Formerly the French +had made constant attempts at these surprises, but since the great +battle of Trafalgar, France had not so many ships to send to distant +stations, and encounters between our ships and those of France were +less frequent. Still, an occasional cruiser would appear, and it was in +a very tough encounter with a French frigate that Captain Egerton had +lost so many men that he had to take some from the merchant ships. + +Of course, a good look-out was of the utmost importance. And when Tom +had been some time on board, the look-out man, from some unaccountable +carelessness, allowed a ship to come near enough to be seen by those on +deck, before he gave notice of her approach. + +She proved to be English, but this did not alter the fact that a grave +offence had been committed; and the man who had offended was condemned +to be flogged, according to the Articles of War in that case made and +provided. + +Captain Egerton seldom flogged, but in this case he thought it +necessary. People in those days did not think of such things as we do, +but Tom had never seen a man flogged, and the sight made a terrible +impression upon him. + +All hands were piped on deck; the Article of War dealing with the +offence was read aloud by the captain, who looked very stern in his +cocked hat, and then John Callcutt, able seaman, received four dozen +lashes, and, if the truth must be told, did not think half as much of +it as we are apt to fancy. But Tom was like one in a frenzy. He was +faint and sick, angry and frightened, and, in fact, did not know what +he was about. Gideon, with Dick Carr's assistance, hustled him away and +took him below. Carr returned on deck, but Gideon stayed with Tom, and +tried to calm him. + +"Why, Tom," said he, "what a fellow you are! Here's a pother about a +four dozen, well deserved, as we must all own! Why, if you'd served +with Sir Lucas Cochrane as I did, you'd have seen six, ay, and seven +dozen, given for half that. He'd flog a man for being last up the +rigging! Ah, he were a bad-tempered man, but a grand officer. Now, our +captain never is severe; and you'll see Callcutt about again in a week +or so, not a hair the worse." + +"Were you ever flogged?" asked Tom, looking up with white face and +gleaming eyes. + +"N—no, Tom, I can't say I ever was. I've been always very fortunate; +and as to you, it's all in your own hands. You do your duty, and you +and the cat will never come together." + +"Now, look here," said Tom. "John Callcutt shipped with Captain Egerton +of his own free will, and has been a man-o'-war's man all his life, so +that he knew what lay before him. Equally, so did you. Maybe you like +being treated like slaves or dumb beasts, but I was never asked my +consent to being here. And I just tell you, what is no more than the +truth, that if the like is ever done to me, I'll end my life the very +first time I get the chance. I'll manage better than Dick Carr did, +too. Do you think that I'm going back to my people, to tell them I was +flogged like a hound? Never! I mean what I say, and—" + +"Tom, be quiet; not so loud. No one's going to flog you unless 'you' go +and deserve it." + +"Deserve it! How can I deserve it, for not keeping rules I never +promised to keep? You drag me away from my ship and my captain; you +read me a lot of rules and laws that I know nothing about; I'm robbed +of my hard-earned money, and—" + +"Nonsense, Tom. My lad, you're off your head. Your money went to the +bottom, as you yourself told me." + +"I told you they all said so. But it's my belief that they grabbed it +while I was laying hold of Carr." + +"You're beside yourself. Tom, be quiet; here's an officer." + +Gideon stood up; Tom jumped up too. + +"The captain wants to know what is wrong with Adderley," said Mr. +Carteret. + +"First punishment he ever saw, sir; that's all," answered Gideon. + +"Ay? Mr. Egerton fainted; so, you see, you're not the only one. I hope +you're all right again, Adderley?" + +"Yes—sir." + +"What were you saying about being robbed, as I came in?" + +"Nothing, sir," said Tom, sullenly. + +"That's no answer; I heard you plainly. It is the first that has been +heard of it. Were you robbed?" + +"Greg Collier saw the kit go overboard," remarked Gideon. + +But Mr. Carteret waited for Tom to reply, and he had to speak at last. + +"I had my money in my kit, sir—a good deal of money—and when Carr +jumped overboard and I caught hold of him, my kit disappeared. I +dropped it at my feet as Carr passed me, and I don't see how it got +overboard." + +"Terlizzeck, were you with me? I forget." + +"No, sir. But Greg Collier sat on the next bench, and he saw the kit go +overboard." + +"What made it go? No one had any call to touch it," said Tom, doggedly. + +"Why did you not speak of this at once?" inquired Mr. Carteret. + +"Because I knew 'twould be no use; they'd all stick together." + +"The captain must be told of this," said Mr. Carteret. + +And the captain was told, and inquired carefully into the matter. +Three of the best men in the ship deposed to having seen the bundle go +overboard and sink at once, and one said that Carr had kicked it as he +made his spring. There was no reason to doubt this testimony, and all +that Tom gained by his foolish suspicions was the dislike of Collier +and of some others, and a good deal of joking about his "fine fortune +that was in Davy Jones's locker." + +All this combined to make Tom more miserable every day, until at last +he was really in a very desperate humour; and just at this time the +ship touched at Jamaica. + +Captain Egerton found it necessary to get water, and as the beef and +biscuits were getting low, he determined to make for Port Royal, as +there he was sure of getting what he wanted. + +Often had Tom been in Port Royal before; many a bright kerchief and gay +ribbon had he sold there to black damsels, who used to declare that +"Massa Add'ley had de lubly taste!" + +The "Imogene" was detained for several days, getting in water and +shipping stores, but at last she was ready to sail. Tom was one +of several who went ashore on the morning of the last day, on the +understanding that they would be ready when the boat came up for them +in the afternoon. Captain Egerton wished to get them all on board +early, as he meant to sail in the morning. + +But when the midshipman in command counted his passengers, one was +missing. And when he had called over the names, that one proved to be +Tom Adderley. Gideon, who had been sent to ensure the discretion and +safety of the mid, advised his commanding officer to wait a while. But +Tom did not come, and a gun from the frigate warned them that they +were delaying too long. It was very unwillingly, and with a foreboding +heart, that Gideon heard the orders given, though he knew that there +was no help for it. + +All that night he kept hoping that the morning would see Tom alongside +in a shore-boat, for then, of course, he would escape with a severe +reprimand—what Gideon called "a proper wigging." + +But the morning came, and Tom did not. Captain Egerton was not going to +delay on account of the loss of Tom's not very valuable services. He +communicated the fact that one of his men was "absent without leave" to +the proper authorities, and sailed a little after daybreak. + +This was just what Master Tom wished and expected. He was hidden in +the house of an old negro, who was also an old acquaintance of his. He +meant to discard his sailor dress and lie quiet until Captain Collins +came into port. Then he would get on board the old "Star of the Sea," +and be happy again. + +Of course Captain Collins would have had nothing to say to him; +equally, of course, he would have been arrested the first time he +ventured out. But, as it happened, he never had time to experience +these disappointments. + +The "Imogene" met a French privateer before she was quite out of sight +of Port Royal, took her, and came back into port with her, Captain +Egerton not caring to spare men and officers to form a prize crew. Mr. +Carteret, with a number of the "Imogene's" men, had just marched the +few prisoners to the barracks, when Greg Collier caught sight of old +Agamemnon, the negro, peeping nervously round a corner. Collier laid +hold of him and took him to Mr. Carteret. + +"This here knows where Adderley is, I'm pretty certain, sir. I've seen +them discoursin' each other. Scouting round the corner, he were; and +frightened out of his wits, as all may see!" + +"Do you know where Thomas Adderley, able seaman, belonging to his +Majesty's ship 'Imogene,' is hiding?" said Mr. Carteret, blandly. + +But Agamemnon shook and shivered, and turned from black to a livid +grey, so certain did he feel that this gentleness covered fearful +designs. Still, Tom had been kind to him; and the poor old fellow was +divided between fear for himself and a desire to save Tom. So, not +being particular as to truth, he replied— + +"Hidin'! Oh no, capta'n, not hidin'. Sick! Oh, he were berry sick—sick +'nuff to die nearly! When de ship sailed he were lyin' dar, most dead." + +"Drunk, I suppose?" said Mr. Carteret. + +Agamemnon rolled his eyes in a way which might mean yes or no, just as +you liked to take it. + +"Show me where he is!" Mr. Carteret went on. + +And poor Agamemnon, all unworthy to bear the name of the "king of men," +obeyed very meekly, so that in a few minutes, Tom was in custody, +and was marched down to the landing-place, and conveyed on board the +'Imogene.' He was put in irons, and kept in strict confinement; and it +is easy to imagine that he was very miserable. Now that he had tried +and failed, he saw plainly enough the utter folly of his attempt to +escape. Gideon's warnings came back to him; his entreaties that Tom +would submit to what 'must' be, and try to do his duty in his new +position. Now, too, that to see it was of no use to him, he saw that he +had been leniently treated—that his officers had been very patient with +him; and always he saw before him the punishment he had brought upon +himself. Oh, if only he could begin again, and be once more the newly +pressed man, how differently he would behave! + +Even the loss of his money seemed nothing to him now; he felt that he +had lost everything that made life worth having. It seemed to him that +the only thing to be done was to get rid of his wretched life as soon +as he could. I do not know that he would have kept to this resolution, +but these were his thoughts as he sat there, alone, in his terrible +misery. What! Go home, not only penniless, but disgraced? Go home +to see his father ashamed of him, and his mother trying to keep his +disgrace a secret? Never! He would die twenty times over, sooner than +do that. Why, even to face the men of the "Imogene" after they had been +witnesses of his degradation, was more than his proud heart could bear! + +There he sat, poor Tom! almost in the dark, with heavy irons on his +ankles, his face hidden in his hands. And all the time his imprisonment +lasted, he never once looked up when any one spoke to him, or when his +meals were brought to him, but just sat without a sound or a movement, +and with black despair in his heart. + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VII. + +"THREE CHEERS FOR CAPTAIN EGERTON!" + +"IF you please, Captain Egerton, may I say a few words to you, +private?" said Gideon Terlizzeck to the captain, who was standing by +the side, gazing down into the dark blue water. + +The "Imogene" was at sea again. + +"Eh, Terlizzeck? Yes, of course. Here—or will you come to my cabin?" + +"I'll come to your cabin by-and-by, sir, if I may." + +"No time like the present, Gideon. We'll go there now." + +The captain led the way and Gideon followed, both silent. But Gideon's +lips were moving, and if his captain did not hear his voice, it was +heard by Him to whom the old man spoke. + +The captain laid aside his sword and cap and seated himself. + +"There's a chair close to you, Gideon," said he. "Well, old friend, +what do you want?" + +Gideon did not sit down. He had taken off his straw hat, and now stood +passing it absently round and round in his hands. At last he said— + +"I don't think, sir, that I'm over-doing of it when I say that what I +want you to give me is a life—and a soul." + +"What do you mean, Gideon?" + +"That there unfortunate boy, Tom Adderley, sir." + +"Why, surely you know that his life is in no danger?" + +"Not in the way you mean, sir. But if I may be so bold as speak out, +sir, I think I can show you that what I said is true." + +"Speak out, Gideon. I have known you all my life; you've sailed with +me four times, and I rather think I owed you my life in that brush +with the Malay pirates when I was a lieutenant. I know what a good old +fellow you are, and I'm quite ready to listen to whatever you have to +say. But I am rather surprised to find you interested in this young +Adderley." + +"Well, I am, sir. The boy has good in him, and he's been unfort'nate. +Just let me tell you his story, sir. He comes from a place some days' +journey inland from Liverpool; and being set on, seems to me, by an old +man as lived there, to want to see the world and make a fortune, Tom +ran off and shipped on that there merchant ship." + +With this beginning Gideon told the tale of Tom's saving, and its +object; his determination after four years of sailoring to go home, +and his misery when he was not only prevented doing so, but lost his +precious hoard. Very simply, but not unskilfully, was the story told. + +"Now, sir, I took to the lad from the first; seemed to me he wanted a +friend so bad. And I've talked to Carr and the other fellows that know +him, and I find he was held to be the best and smartest man, all round, +on board of that there trader, and Carr's a good man himself and knows +what he is talking of. And—you'll acknowledge this, captain—the lad got +hard lines." + +"Very unlucky his losing that money—very." + +"And being pressed, captain? You know I love the service, but I came of +my own free will." + +"Oh, come, Gideon," said the captain, laughing; "I can't allow that, +you know. We 'must' get men." + +"Yes, but one willing man is worth ten pressed men. And, captain, if +you'd be so good as overlook this—this—folly of poor young Tom's, +it's a willing man I do believe you might make of he. He's far from a +bad lad. If you'd jaw him a bit, and get his promise to do better if +you let him off; I'll be his surety he'll keep his word. And if Tom +Adderley's flogged, sir, there's an end of he. He won't be alive in +a month; he won't, indeed. If you'd 'a seen and heard him the time +Callcutt was punished! Why, he were mad for a bit, and said plain and +out that he'd never outlive such disgrace. He's proud, poor fellow, +and—oh, sir, I do beseech you, spare him if you can." + +"But how can I, Gideon? The fellow hides and lets us sail without him, +and from what I can hear he was quite sober, and fully meant to escape +altogether. Think of the example. You know I am not inclined to punish +severely, but I really think Adderley must be made an example of. I'll +give him only two dozen?" + +"Oh, sir, one dozen would be as bad as six. It's the disgrace. There's +some that never seem to think about it; there's some it kills, or +drives to death, anyhow. I saw that long ago, before you entered the +service, sir. 'Twas a man from my own place, and he were above the +common, being one as had some education. Sir, he drowned himself, +though we was watching him because we didn't like his looks. And this +boy is such another for pride; and he's not twenty yet, and has a +mother at home!" + +"I don't see that I can do it, Terlizzeck." + +"Sir, the old nigger that showed where he was hid told Mr. Carteret +that when Tom stayed ashore the night before, it was because he was too +ill to stir. Now, if you had him up private, and gave him a wigging, +and then offered him another chance, why, Tom isn't likely to talk +about it all, and the story that he was ill would come for to be +believed." + +"'You' don't believe it, Gideon?" + +"No, sir, I'm sorry to say, I do not. But if you saw him, sir, sitting +there silent—hardly eats a bit and never speaks—if he isn't ill, he's +in a fair way to be. I do believe he were mad to try such a fool's +trick, and that he's mad with himself now for having done it." + +There was a short silence; then Gideon spoke again. + +"Captain Egerton, I'm sorry I said that. You've the right to judge, +sir, whether you can overlook his fault or not, and I know that the +good of one lad must give way to the good of the ship's company and +the service. Besides, if it's right to do it, it won't need hiding. +Moreover, that wasn't an upright notion of mine, and I'm ashamed of +it. But, captain, I've served man and boy, forty-seven years and three +months, and did never ask a favour before that I can call to mind, +beyond a day's leave at times; and my heart is wonderful set on Tom +Adderley." + +Captain Egerton got up, and walked up and down the very limited space +at his command, once or twice. Then, sitting down again, he said— + +"Terlizzeck, I will not refuse your request. I wish it to be known that +Adderley is spared because you interceded for him. I fear I shall more +than ever get the credit in the service of being too lenient, but I'll +risk that, as you think it may be the saving of this young fellow. +You'll keep an eye on him, Gideon." + +"Sir, I do truly not know how to thank you!" + +"If the lad turns out well, it is I that shall have to thank you. Just +pass the word for the prisoner to be brought here, will you? And say to +knock off the irons." + +Gideon went and gave the necessary orders, and in about ten minutes the +door was again opened, and Tom Adderley, being shoved into the cabin, +stood where his guard left him, apparently not seeing where he was. + +[Illustration: TOM STARTED, AND CRIED OUT HURRIEDLY, "AM I TO BE +FLOGGED?"] + +"You may go, my men. Leave Adderley here." + +Captain Egerton looked at the prisoner for a few moments without +speaking. Poor Tom! It was hard to believe just now that he had ever +been a bright, active, intelligent sailor. His curly hair was all +matted over his forehead; his face was deadly white, with a dull look +of despair in it; his eyes were dazzled by the sudden light, so that he +could scarcely open them. + +"Adderley," began the captain. + +Tom started, and cried out hurriedly, "Am I to be flogged?" + +"What do you expect?" asked the captain. + +Tom's head sank upon his breast. + +"It don't matter what I expect," he said. "They'll never hear of it at +home." + +"Adderley, Gideon Terlizzeck has been speaking to me for you. Now, if +I were to offer you another chance, will you promise me solemnly to +behave so well that I may feel justified in having spared you?" + +"I don't understand," said Tom, looking up. + +"If I forgive you, and let you go back to duty, will you for the future +do your best, and work willingly and well?" + +"Forgive me? Do you mean that you won't flog me?" + +"I do. At Gideon's earnest request, I have promised to overlook this +offence. He answers for you, that for the future you will do better." + +Tom staggered back, and, but for coming against the cabin door, would +have fallen. His chest heaved; he covered his face with his hands and +stood silent for a few moments. Then his arms fell; he straightened +himself, and looked full in his captain's face. + +"If ever I can die for you, or for Gideon, I'll do it, willing and +free. It's not the pain—I'm not afraid of that—it's the shame of it. +Yes, sir; I'll do my very best from this hour." + +"Very good, Adderley. Take him with you, Terlizzeck. I'll give orders +about him. Now, mind, Adderley; no more sulking." + +"Never no more, sir," said Tom, half crying. "Oh, Gideon, you've saved +my life." + +From that hour, the only trouble with Tom Adderley was a fear that in +his new-born zeal he would get himself killed by some too venturesome +proceeding. As to the way in which his eyes followed the captain's +movements, and the frequency of his "Yes, sir," even to the smallest +mid, these were only to be equalled by his patience in listening to +Gideon's reading, and to the rather long-winded and misty homilies +the dear old man preached for his benefit. These poor Tom only dimly +understood, but there was nothing he would not have done to please +Gideon. + +And he was surprised to find how much happier he was, too. He was busy, +and every one was pleased with him. This was pleasanter than sulking +and idling. Then, too, he felt the warmest gratitude to both Gideon +and Captain Egerton. And, fallen as man is, there is this much of the +original "Image" left in him—he is happier when his good feelings are +called into play, than when his poor dark heart is full of hatred. + +One day, about a fortnight or three weeks after Tom's release, the +look-out man proclaimed that he saw a sail. Great was the excitement. +Was it a Frenchman? But it proved to be a little English brig. "The +wickedest little gun-brig in the service, and the sauciest," as old +Gideon said, when she came near enough to be recognized—the "Warspite," +commanded by a young lieutenant named Yeo, who signalled that he wanted +to come on board and speak to Captain Egerton. + +A little boat was soon spinning over the water, and Mr. Yeo came on +board. He sprang up the side followed by a very small midshipman, who, +with a somewhat older youth, represented Mr. Yeo's "officers." + +"Look," whispered Gideon to Tom, "how Mr. Carteret and Mr. Bullen do +gaze at Mr. Yeo." + +"So I see. But why? Seems to me he's only a lieutenant, too." + +"But has a separate command, Tom, and he only five and twenty. Nephew, +he is, to our admiral. Our two junior lieutenants would give ten years +to stand in his shoes. What's that? What are they cheering for?" + +Gideon was cleaning the captain's fowling-piece, and did not like to +leave it. + +"I'll go forward and see," said Tom. + +He came back with Greg Collier and a lot more of the men in a few +minutes. + +"Gideon, there's great news," said he. + +"Eh, old Gid! What d'ye think? But we're at war with America!" cried +Collier. "Think of 'that' for impudence, and she without a big ship +belonging to her!" + +"Well, well," said Gideon, "I be sorry. They can fight, I can tell you +that; ay, as dogged as we can. And it do not seem Christian-like to +kill and slay men as speaks English like ourselves." + +"I don't know about that," said Collier. "But you're not the old Gid +Terlizzeck if you don't feel your anger rise at the next bit of news. +What do you think? But a Yankee frigate attacked the old 'Corinna,' +thirty-four guns, Captain Harry Hervey—just let 'em know they was at +war, and then went bang at her; ay, and towed her into New York after +a blazin' fight. Captain badly wounded and a prisoner—he's out of the +way. Then Admiral Sir George Kinnaird is dead—yellow Jack it was—and +Captain Egerton, of this here blessed old 'Imogene,' is senior officer +on the station, till a new admiral comes out." + +"You don't say so, Collier!" cried Gideon. "Why, it's a great change +for our captain. You do take my breath away." + +"Three cheers for Captain Egerton!" shouted Tom, flinging his hat +into the air with such good will that it went overboard, and probably +disagreed terribly with the fishes. + +But the men took up the cheers, and they were really hearty ones; and +of all the spirit-stirring sounds that ever you will hear, three cheers +coming from the hearts of a set of British sailors is the most stirring. + +"We've not heard all the news yet," said Collier. "There's more to +tell, or I'm a Dutchman." + +"Yes," said another man, "Mr. Yeo, he told all that, for all to hear. +And then he says, says he, 'What more I have to say is for your private +ear, Captain Egerton.' And so they went to the captain's cabin." + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER VIII. + +A "CUTTING-OUT" EXPEDITION. + +YOU may be sure that both officers and men kept a bright look-out for +the opening of the door of the captain's cabin. It was surprising how +many of the officers found themselves on deck, though it was a broiling +day, and they would have been cooler in the wardroom. Little Charlie +Egerton, the youngest midshipman, so far forgot himself as to presume +upon being the captain's son, and went to the door, knocking timidly. +But he probably heard something not pleasant to his feelings, for he +ran away with more haste than dignity. + +Presently Mr. Duncan, first lieutenant (and in those days a frigate +carried no commander, so that the "first luff" was second in command), +was sent for, which greatly increased the excitement on board. + +After some time, Mr. Duncan and Mr. Yeo came on deck together. Mr. +Duncan briefly gave the order, "Pipe the side," and while Mr. Yeo's +boat was being brought into position, these two talked together very +earnestly. + +Captain Egerton came on deck before Mr. Yeo departed. He looked about +for a moment, and then said— + +"We shall have to beat up against the wind the whole way. The 'Imogene' +is pretty lively, so I dare say we shall keep together easily. +Good-bye, Yeo; we shall have fine weather, I think." + +"I think so, sir; good-bye." + +And with a last shake hands, Mr. Yeo was gone. + +"Mr. Duncan, I wish the men to come aft. I want to speak to them." + +Mr. Duncan passed the order on to the boatswain, "All hands aft, Mr. +Kenyon." + +And in no time, so eager were they, every man not actually busy was +ready for the captain's speech. + +Mr. Duncan, who knew all about it, went and took the place of the man +at the wheel—one of those small acts of good fellowship by which the +English naval officer makes his men ready to follow him anywhere. + +"My men," said the captain, "the 'Warspite' has brought us great +news—some of it sad enough. The United States have declared war; rather +unexpectedly, for it was supposed that we had arranged that difficulty. +The American frigate 'Ontario' met, fought, and captured our frigate +the 'Corinna.' Admiral Kinnaird has died of yellow fever. Thus the two +officers senior to me on this station are removed, and the command is +in my hands for the present. But I cannot rejoice in this, for Admiral +Kinnaird is a terrible loss to the service, and Captain Hervey, of the +'Corinna,' is one of my dearest friends, and they say he is wounded. + +"It becomes our duty, of course, to fight the Yankees wherever we can +find them, and Mr. Yeo has brought me intelligence on which I mean to +act. He had an encounter with an American brigantine two days ago, when +they pounded at each other for some hours, until night overtook them. +The brigantine was getting the worst of it, and she made off during the +night. Mr. Yeo, after some searching, found that she had slipped into +a certain creek on the north side of the little French island of S. +Grégoire. She is larger and carries more men than the 'Warspite,' and +there was the chance that the French officer in the fort might be able +to send some men to help her. So Mr. Yeo thought it imprudent to follow +her in, but knowing that we were not far off, he came down here in the +hope of meeting us. And I have determined to attempt the capture of the +brigantine; if possible, to surprise her and cut her out." + +Tremendous cheering. + +"What's cutting-out?" asked Tom, as soon as Gideon could hear him. + +"I'll explain by-and-by. Hark, what more?" + +"I am going to ask for volunteers," said the captain. "Mr. Duncan will +command—" + +"Three cheers for Mr. Duncan!" roared some one. + +More cheering. + +"He'll command. There will be our pinnace, yawl, and gig, and Mr. Yeo's +gig—I want sixty men." + +Sixty! He might have had every man there. But as all could not go, the +captain proceeded to make his selection. And, to the unbounded pride +and delight of Tom Adderley, he was chosen as one of the sixty. + +After a while, Gideon and he being again together, Tom asked him for +the promised explanation of the mysteries of "cutting-out." + +"You get to know," said Gideon, "that the enemy is lying in some +harbour or creek, as this here brigantine is said to do. You get as +near as may be after dark. You send your boats, full of well-armed +men—picked men—it's a thing for you to be proud of, Tom. Quiet—no +noise, no cheering—you rows up alongside that ship, and you boards +her. Then, mostly, there's a scrimmage, even if they don't see you and +begin before you get alongside—though once I helped to cut out a small +privateer, and every soul on board was asleep, and showed no fight at +all. You beats them, claps them under hatches, let the anchor slip, and +h'istes sail and away." + +"What fun!" cried Tom, his eyes brightening. + +Gideon looked approvingly at him. + +"You're a chip of the old block," said he. "No fear but there'll be +plenty of sailors, even when me and my mates are gone." + +The love of fighting is, I think, one of the strangest things in our +strange nature. Here was Tom, hitherto a youth of peaceful pursuits, +and a particularly good-tempered one. Yet he no sooner hears that he +is going to have a chance of being knocked on the head, than he is in +such a state of delight and impatience that every hour seems four times +as long as usual. And here is good, kind-hearted old Gideon, highly +pleased to see his dear Tom in such a courageous frame of mind! Men are +certainly very strange creatures. + +Captain Egerton kept the "Imogene" beating up to the north-west all +that day. Late in the evening she had got as far in that direction as +he thought necessary, and now ran gaily before the wind for the tiny +French island of S. Grégoire. The "Warspite" was not far off. Darkness +fell just as they sighted the island, which was defended by a small +fort on the south side, where there was a little harbour. The creek +into which the American ship had crept, was not known to be fortified +or defended in any way. + +By nine o'clock the boats were ready. Every man had his cutlass, +pistol, and knife, and the rowers were armed as well as the others. The +"Warspite's" boats were with them, Mr. Yeo in command. Captain Egerton +stood looking at his men as they went over the side one by one, saying +a few words of encouragement and caution. + +The oars were all muffled—a device quite new to Tom. His heart was +beating wildly with excitement when his turn came to pass the captain. +But he paused, for little Charlie Egerton had rushed up to his father +in excitement even greater than Tom's. + +"Father, Geering has fallen and hurt himself; the surgeon is with him +now. I've got my dirk and my pistols; I can go at once. Let me go! Oh, +do let me go instead of Geering." + +Geering, the somewhat older mid, who was to have gone, had, indeed, +contrived in his hurry to get a very bad fall, and could by no means +go. Captain Egerton looked at his son. The words in his heart were, +"What will his mother say to me?" The words on his lips were, "Off with +you, then. Now, remember, my lads, no noise, and—and good-bye, Charlie." + +Charlie tumbled into Mr. Duncan's boat as fast as he could. Tom looked +in the captain's set, stern face, and said, half ashamed of himself— + +"I'll be there, sir." + +The captain gave him a quick glance and nodded. Tom took his place +in the boat, almost wishing that he might be killed in saving Mr. +Midshipman Egerton for his father's sake. + +Away over the dark water, with here and there a strange light shining +on the surface, some phosphorescent appearance with which they were +quite familiar, but it has an eerie look to those who see it for the +first time. They soon lost sight of the ships; then they were near +enough to see the land by the soft starlight. The creek had a narrow +mouth, and there was a tiny basin, and then a sudden turn to the west; +the boats could only enter one by one. Not a word was spoken—there +was no noise to betray them; three boats had entered by the narrow +passage, when suddenly a blaze of light burst upon them. On the flat +rock, on one side of the passage, a flame shot right up to the sky, +and at the same moment a little battery, which must have been built +quite recently, opened a brisk fire on the leading boat. This was the +pinnace, and in it were Mr. Duncan, little Egerton, and Tom Adderley. + +A yell burst from the sailors; the boat's advance was checked, for +several of her rowers were killed or wounded. Mr. Duncan had fallen, +and lay senseless in the bottom of the boat. The next boat nearly +ran the pinnace down before it could be checked. The confusion was +frightful. Mr. Yeo, who was in the third boat, was luckily a cool, +clear-headed man. He took in the situation at a glance, called to his +men to follow him, ran his boat close to the rocks, and landed. In five +minutes he had driven the handful of Frenchmen out of the battery. + +Young Egerton, gazing round, hardly knowing what had happened, heard an +old sailor say in a low voice— + +"Give the order to put back, Mr. Egerton. It's all up; we can do naught +to-night." + +The fair little face flushed. The boy looked at Mr. Duncan, and +realized what had happened. + +"I'm in command of this boat," said he. "Give way, my men; we'll do it +yet." + +But, very fortunately, poor Mr. Duncan had begun to come to his senses, +and heard these words. He stretched out his hand and caught hold of the +boy. + +"No, Egerton, no. We must run for it." + +All this passed very quickly, far more quickly than it can be told. +None of the other boats had suffered as much as the pinnace, though +when the "Warspites" came tumbling back into their boat, they had +several wounded among them. Some unhurt men took the place of the +rowers who could do no more, and Mr. Yeo gave his orders with perfect +coolness. Poor Mr. Duncan had fainted again. The confusion was over; +one by one the boats made for the passage, but as each boat reached it, +a fire of musketry was opened on them from both sides. + +The "Imogene's" pinnace was the last but one to pass through (Mr. Yeo, +of course, remained to the last), and in the narrowest part of the +passage, little Egerton, who had been bending over Mr. Duncan, suddenly +raised himself, gave a faint cry, and fell into the water. And Tom +Adderley was after him before the gleam of the fatal fire, which still +blazed high, had ceased to glint on the boy's golden hair. + +The last boat was close behind; there was no possibility of pausing, +even for a moment. + +Presently a rocket shot up from the "Imogene" to guide them; for, +of course, the light had made Captain Egerton aware that there was +something wrong. + +When the pinnace lay alongside, Captain Egerton was there, giving +his orders as quietly as if his heart had been at rest, instead of +torn with cruel anxiety for his boy. Mr. Duncan was got up the side, +and carried to his cabin; the other wounded were all brought up as +carefully as possible. Then those who were unhurt began to follow, but +the brave fellows came slowly, and not one of them could look at the +captain. + +"Is that all?" he said, after a pause. + +"Captain, 'twere in the narrow place; 'twere a musket-shot did it." + +The speaker, a big strong man, was crying like a child. + +"Is—he—in the boat?" said the captain. + +"No, sir. He fell overboard; and some one jumped after him, but I could +not see who 'twas." + +"'Twould be my poor Tom," said old Gideon. "Well, he did right." + +"Mr. Egerton never blenched, sir. When the fire began, and Mr. Duncan +fell, he took command of the boat as if he'd been a man grown, as +bright and as cool." + +Here the man broke off with a sudden shout— + +"Hullo! Look at that!" + +The "Warspite's" boat had come alongside during this conversation, and +at this moment a small figure rushed into Captain Egerton's arms. + +"Father, I'm safe!" + +"My boy!" + +For a few moments, I do not think there was a dry eye among the +onlookers. Then the captain, making a tremendous effort to recover +himself, set the boy on his feet, and said, in a voice that 'would' not +be steady— + +"Not wounded, Mr. Egerton?" + +"No, sir. I don't know yet why I fell into the water." + +But he knew presently, when he found his watch perfectly ruined, with a +bullet well embedded in its works! + +"How were you saved?" + +"Some one caught hold of me, and the 'Warspite's' boat picked us both +up. Here he is. I haven't seen his face yet." + +It was a very red face, but it was the face of Tom Adderley. Captain +Egerton shook hands with him then and there, and broke down in trying +to thank him. Then Mr. Yeo came on board, and he, with the captain and +Mr. Carteret, retired for a consultation. Gideon bore Tom off. It would +be hard to say which of them was the happier at that moment. + +It is not to be supposed that British sailors were going to put up +with a rebuff like this! Next day, as many men as could be safely +spared entered that creek in broad daylight, under Captain Egerton's +command. They landed, routed the small force of men armed with muskets, +who proved to be sailors from the brigantine, carried the battery, +spiked the guns, and blew up the place. They took the brigantine, and, +being fairly started on a career of conquest, they dashed across the +little island to the fort, carried it by storm, and made the garrison +prisoners. It was a very small fort, and the garrison consisted of +forty half-starved looking Frenchmen, with two or three elderly +officers, who swore such strange oaths that it was as well that there +were few who understood them. Thus S. Grégoire became a part of the +British empire. + +N.B.*—Do not look for S. Grégoire on the map. But much of what this +chapter contains really occurred. + + * [N.B.—nota bene] + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER IX. + +PAID OFF. + +SPACE, or rather the want of it, forbids me to give you any more of +Tom's adventures in the West Indies. Suffice it to say that he laid +up materials enough for the entertainment of Burdeck for many years, +should he ever return there to tell his story. + +And to return no longer seemed impossible to him. He had redeemed +his character, and had begun to understand his position and to love +his profession. He knew now that he would receive all arrears of pay +and a good little sum of prize-money when the "Imogene" went out of +commission. You see, Tom still loved to lay by his money for his +mother, but when Captain Egerton wanted to make him a handsome present +for his good service to his son, Tom refused to receive it. + +"Let me do it for nothin' but—because I owe you more than my life, +sir," he said. + +At last three years had passed away since the day when Tom became +one of the "Imogene's" crew, and the "Imogene" was on her way home. +Captain Egerton had, of course, long since handed over the command of +the station to an admiral, and since that time the frigate had been in +action several times. Once, indeed, she had been all but captured by +two American frigates, and was only saved by a sudden storm, in which +Captain Egerton, by his splendid seamanship, escaped from both the +enemy's ships. Generally, the "Imogene" was successful, but she had +been a good deal knocked about, and repairs were absolutely necessary. +For these repairs she was going home, and it seemed likely that she +would be paid off. For, in the interval, peace had been made with the +United States, and Napoleon had been conquered and sent to Elba, so +that for the future it would not be necessary to keep so many ships in +commission. + +They were nearly at home. They had met with rough weather, and had been +forced out of their intended course, so that they were very near the +coast of France, though they did not actually enter the Bay of Biscay. + +Tom was on duty as look-out man, and Gideon Terlizzeck had joined him +in his airy quarters, just for the pleasure of being with him. Gideon +had become very fond of Tom, and Tom returned his affection. + +"A sail!" shouted Tom. + +And when he had answered all the questions of the officer on duty as to +the whereabouts of the said sail, Gideon said— + +"See what 'tis to have young eyes! 'I' see no sail yet. Ah, well, it do +not matter now, as it would have mattered last year, when she might be +an American or a Frenchman, layin' wait for us here." + +Presently the ship Tom has espied afar off came much nearer. Captain +Egerton came on deck with his telescope, and he looked at the stranger, +whose movements puzzled him. Why was she bearing down upon him in +this way? Had England been still at war, he would have understood the +matter perfectly. But the war was over. However, the ship, a great +three-decker, kept on her course, and Captain Egerton wondered more +and more. When, to complete his amazement, she fired a shot across the +"Imogene's" bows, and at the same time ran up the imperial colours of +France. + +"What on earth does the fellow mean?" cried Captain Egerton, angrily. + +"I'm afraid there's something wrong that we haven't heard of," said Mr. +Duncan, anxiously. "Can that fiend have escaped and taken the field +again? I always said we ought to have shot him!" + +Captain Egerton laughed, for he had argued that question with Mr. +Duncan many and many a time. + +"Shorten sail, Duncan; we'll stand off and on a bit. She's lowering +a boat, so we shall know all about it soon. Carteret, you understand +French—don't let them board us; just find out what they are at." + +The boat drew near. A French officer stood up and made a polite bow, +begging to know what ship this was. + +"'Imogene,' Captain Egerton," Mr. Carteret replied. Then in French, +"What do you mean by flying the imperial flag?" + +"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Napoleon has returned to France," +was the reply. "This is the 'Monarque,' 130 guns. May I hope that your +captain will see the necessity of surrendering to such superior force, +thereby sparing useless bloodshed?" + +The force was even more superior than the speaker supposed it to be. +For the "Imogene" was known to be in a bad way, for want of a thorough +overhauling, one of her masts was spliced, and she was somewhat +short-handed, several of her men having consented to be transferred to +other ships when she was ordered home. For all that, there was but one +opinion on board the "Imogene." + +"Surrender," said Captain Egerton, quietly, "without a gun fired? +What does the fellow take us for? Send him about his business, +Carteret.—Duncan, beat to quarters." + +The Frenchman made a flourishing bow, and said, "Au revoir," which +meant, "You will all be prisoners on board the 'Monarque' by-and-by, if +we don't sink you." + +But the "Imogene's" drums were beating to quarters before his fine bow +was quite finished. + +"I'd like to send a shot after that fellow," growled Mr. Carteret. + +All was now activity on board the "Imogene;" activity, but not +confusion. It is in a case of this kind that one sees what discipline +is worth. Every man knew exactly what he had to do, and did it. Cheer +after cheer was heard as the men ran to their stations. + +"Duncan," said Captain Egerton, "if we get her broadside, we are done +for. We'll board her, now—at once. Get the boarders ready as fast as +you can. I'll lay her alongside, yardarm to yardarm; we have the wind, +and we'll carry her before she has well gone to quarters. There, that's +her drum now." + +"Who shall lead the boarders?" said Mr. Duncan. + +"You," said the captain. "Shake hands, Duncan. God bless you!" + +Well, if those Frenchmen never knew before what British sailors can do +and will do, they found it out that day. Before the last tap of the +"Monarque's" drums, beating to quarters, had ceased to echo "'tween +decks;" before the men were all in their stations, the little "Imogene" +was upon them. + +"Boarders, away!" + +To his dying day, Tom was proud to say, "And I was one of them." + +Tom had seen a good deal of fighting, but such a fight as this never +before. The Frenchmen, surprised as they were, fought like brave +men—fought desperately and furiously. The Englishmen fought as if each +had at least six lives, and was prepared to lose them all. To be made +prisoners almost in sight of home? Never! + +The "Monarque" fired one broadside, but the greater number of her guns +were too high above the "Imogene" to injure her, and the frigate's fire +silenced the lower deck. After a fearful struggle, the upper deck was +cleared and the Frenchmen driven below. Charlie Egerton pulled down the +imperial flag, and this practically ended the fight. The French captain +lay dead upon his own deck, and in neither ship was there an officer +unwounded. Mr. Duncan was hurt, but not very seriously; Mr. Carteret +was badly wounded; Captain Egerton lost an arm; and even gallant young +Charlie had a cut over his right eye, of which, if the truth must be +told, he was exceedingly proud. Tom Adderley escaped untouched, though +he had been in the thickest of the fight from first to last. Old +Gideon, too, was safe, but they had lost many a comrade, both among the +boarders and the men who had served the guns. + +A victory is not all pleasure, as many a man has acknowledged as well +as poor Tom Adderley, as he helped to clear the decks that afternoon. + +This engagement, which lasted for less than an hour, took place on the +10th of May, 1815, and on the 13th of May the "Imogene" and her big +prize sailed into Cawsand Bay, near Plymouth. + +The "Imogene" was paid off as soon as possible, the men receiving their +arrears of pay and all their prize-money, except, of course, what they +had won by taking the "Monarque." + +And then Tom saw some comical scenes—comical in one way, but sad enough +in another. For instance, he saw a dozen sailors, not quite as sober as +they ought to have been, driving about in and on a hearse, which they +had hired for the day. There was great struggling for seats on the top, +the tars saying that they preferred to be on deck. They drove about the +streets, visiting all the public-houses, where they not only got very +drunk themselves, but insisted upon "treating" every one they could lay +hold of. He saw a man, whom he had believed to be a quiet, sensible +fellow, but who actually bought four watches, melted them down in a +frying-pan, and wanted to try to eat them, but was prevented by old +Gideon at considerable personal risk. + +Tom was utterly surprised and shocked at these and similar scenes, but +Gideon said that this kind of thing always went on when men were paid +off, and that he had witnessed worse doings than these. There were no +"Sailors' Homes" or "Sailors' Reading-rooms" in those days, and, little +as either Gideon or Tom liked the life, they could not quite keep out +of the way of their old comrades. + +"Why," said Tom, "they won't have a guinea left out of all their money, +at this rate." + +"Not a silver shilling," said Gideon; "and then they'll all go to sea +again." + +"Well, if I hadn't seen it, I could never have believed that men could +be such fools. What's the good of working hard to earn money, only to +fling it away like this?" + +"Worse than no good, Tom, if so be the poor souls could only see it. +Soul and body they do injure. Why, already you'd hardly know Greg +Collier; and as to your old shipmate, Dick Carr, 'twill be months +before he is himself again." + +"Dick has some excuse. You know he found out accidental, from a man he +met in the dockyard, that his girl is married. But the rest—such a set +of fools!" + +"Well, Tom, no one ever taught 'em better, poor dear souls. Such +rioting is not your temptation, and I'm thankful for that. Indeed, I +think you're a good lad, Tom, and wish to do what's right, but don't +ye be proud and despise your neighbours. It leads to no good. It's not +only because it's in the Bible that I say that pride goes before a +fall; it is likeways my own experience. We're all poor creatures, and +each one has his own temptation. Tom, I do suppose you're going home +for a sight of your good father and mother—when and how do you think to +go?" + +"I'm not going, Gideon. I mean to go to sea again. I met an old friend +yesterday—a man by the name of Robins, who was aboard the 'Star of the +Sea' with me. This fellow has a boat of his own now, and is making +a heap of money. He says if I'll trust him with my savings, he'll +double them for me. I have only twenty-five guineas—you know my share +was a good bit less than those that served the whole time with the +'Imogene.' And I won't go home till I can do so with credit—pay my +mother threefold, or even four. What I'd like would be to find some +ship that's been a couple of years in commission, so that I could be +free again, say, in two years. Then I could go home." + +"Take my advice and go now," said Gideon. "You've been brought to see +that you did very wrong to take that money from your mother. Go home +and tell her so; for, you may believe me, those words will be more to +her than all the gold in Solomon's temple—and you'll mind, Tom, there +was a lot of gold in that there. Do now, my boy. Something tells me +that if you don't, you'll be sorry for it." + +"I don't like to go against your advice, Gideon. But you see, I've +promised Robins. He used to talk of my being his partner long ago, but +I shouldn't care for that now. And what ill can come of it? My father +and mother are not to say old—I've heard her say she was seventeen +when they were married, and he very little more. My poor sister that +died was the oldest of us. Let me see; she was eighteen when she +died, and little Dolly was three when I ran away—that's twenty-one +years. Twenty-one and seventeen—" Tom paused and knit his brow—"that's +thirty-eight. And four years aboard the old 'Star'—that's forty-two; +and three in the 'Imogene'—that's forty-five; and that ain't old. +Neither father nor mother can be much more than that." + +"It's not to say old, but that's not the question. You owe it to them +to go as soon as you can, and tell them you're sorry you disobeyed them +and took what you'd no right to take. It's the principle of the thing, +Tom; it's because you ought." + +"I don't see it as you do, Gideon. I want to make amends to them, and +what's twenty-five guineas? Now, if Robins goes on being as lucky as he +has been, I'll soon have what would stock a small farm, and that would +be worth talking about. And indeed, I may as well tell you, there's no +use in talking, because I never thought you'd see things so different, +and—I gave Robins the money." + +"If you'd told me that at once, my lad, I'd have saved my breath to +whistle for a wind. Well, I hope Robins is an honest man. I do declare, +Tom, you're very risky." + +"Why, I've known Robins this long time! 'Twas he first taught me to +trade a little on my own account, and taught me to add up, and reckon, +and all that. See, he gave me a reg'lar receipt, as he called it. Oh, +the money is safe enough. And I was telling him of you, Gideon, and all +your goodness to me. And he said if you'd trust him with a few guineas, +he'll do as well for you as for me." + +"Ay, ay; all that sounds very well, but before I do anything of the +kind, I'd like to know something about the kind of trade he carries on. +'Twas that I mean, not that your money isn't safe; though I'm not so +sure it be safe either. We'll see this Robins and make inquiry. I wish +you'd 'a gone home, Tom; I wish you'd go even now." + +"I couldn't do that. Don't ask it, Gideon." + +"Well, come along, and let's see if we can get sight of this Robins." + +But, curious to relate, this was what they could not do! They could by +no means find Mr. Robins. Tom met him once again, when he was alone, +and received an earnest assurance that his trade was "all fair and +above-board." But when Gideon was with him, Tom was very unlucky in +always missing his friend Robins. + +The chance of meeting him was soon over, for happening to meet Mr. +Duncan, now a commander, he told them that he had been appointed +to the "Juno" (Captain Parkhurst), going out with Lord A—, the new +Governor-General of India, to Calcutta. The ship was to come home and +be paid off as soon as this duty was performed, and it would take a +year or fourteen months. + +This seemed to be the very thing Tom wanted, so both he and Gideon +offered themselves, and were accepted. The "Juno" sailed in June, and +the last thing Tom heard from his native land was the thunder of the +guns firing for the great victory over Napoleon at Waterloo. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER X. + +TOM'S ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY GUINEAS. + +THE "Juno" was back in Plymouth in less than two years. And when Tom +and Gideon were paid off, Tom was in a fever of anxiety to see Robins +and hear how his venture had prospered. He chose to go alone. Robins +had a house in the Barbican, where his wife and children lived, and +there Tom found him, and was informed that his twenty-five guineas had +been turned and turned again to such advantage that one other voyage +would make him the owner of one hundred and fifty guineas. + +Now, Tom Adderley, though ignorant, was no fool, and Gideon's words had +opened his eyes. He knew as well as any one could that money is not +made thus rapidly in honest, lawful trade. Robins told him nothing, +and he asked no questions, but he knew perfectly that the man was +a smuggler, and that he ought to have nothing to say to him. But—a +hundred and fifty guineas! Fancy walking into Burdeck the owner of such +a sum as that! Why, no one in Burdeck had ever seen so much money! Very +likely there were few that could count it. Tom felt that he could not +give up the chance of this triumph, and he told himself that even if he +took his money now, it had been made in the same way, so where was the +use of stopping short of that magnificent hundred and fifty? And he did +not actually know that Robins was a smuggler—only that Gideon was sure +to say so. + +Gideon did say so, and said a good deal more than that. In fact, he +made himself so unpleasant that he and Tom had high words for the first +time, and Tom went off and entered his name on board the "Inconstant," +a frigate which had been in commission for some little time, and had +put into Plymouth for repairs and a few new hands. She sailed the next +day, so that Tom did not see Gideon again even to tell him what he had +done. + +Charlie Egerton was on board the "Inconstant," and when Tom came to +himself and was very sorry for his behaviour to Gideon, he got Mr. +Egerton to write a letter for him, which was sent to Captain Egerton, +now living near Plymouth, who would, Tom was sure, do his best to find +the old sailor. + +The "Inconstant" was paid off in about a year, and Tom found himself +once more in Plymouth, and free. + +As soon as he could shake off the companionship of his late shipmates, +he hastened to the house in the Barbican where he had left the Robins +family. Alas! He found strangers living there, who did not even know +the name of Robins. Tom knew no one in the neighbourhood, but he felt +that he must make inquiries, at any risk; and it seemed possible that +at the nearest public-house he might hear something of Robins. + +He walked into the bar, asked for a glass of ale, and said to the lad +who drew it for him, "I came here to see an old messmate of mine—a man +called Peter Robins—and he lived over the way there, at the corner +house. Do you know where he is now?" + +"I'm sure I don't know, sir," said the youth, carelessly. + +But a door, which was already half-way open, was now opened a little +more, and a jolly, good-tempered-looking woman, with bright ribbons in +her cap, looked in at Tom. After watching him for a few moments, she +said— + +"Look here, you Jack ashore—you in the blue cap. Step this way. I want +to speak to you." + +Tom followed her into her snug little parlour, and she shut the door. + +"Was it you I heard asking about Peter Robins just now?" + +"It was, ma'am. He is an old shipmate of mine." + +"Don't tell me! Robins never sailed in a king's ship!" + +"No, ma'am; merchant ship—'Star of the Sea,' from Liverpool. I was in +her too, but was pressed for the navy." + +"Ay—that's more likely! Well, you're a decent looking lad, and I'll +do you a good turn. Don't be heard asking for Robins any more. +Robins—well, truth's best—he was a friend of mine, and many and many a +keg of Hollands—But that don't matter to you. He got too venturesome, +did Robins, with lace. 'Twas the lace that ruined him. His boat was +seized, and he had a mighty narrow shave of being hung. And if you want +to find him now, you may start for Botany Bay. That's the truth, young +man. Why, what's the matter now?" + +"My money!" moaned poor Tom. "Oh, mother, mother! What's to become of +me now?" + +He broke away from her, and ran out of the house. The fresh air brought +him so far to himself that he walked along quietly. The next thing he +knew, he was standing on the Hoe, near the Citadel, gazing out to sea. + +All his money gone! Mother's golden guineas, father's little farm, his +own fortune that he was so proud of—all gone! What was he to do now? He +had about ten guineas—no more. For, counting on the money from Robins, +and being without old Gideon's care and kindness, he had been a little +extravagant of late. Only last night he had lost a good deal of money +at some game, and still more in betting on his own play. He could +never face his mother and father now! To be more than ten years away, +and to return no richer than he went! That he would never do. To set +to work again to save money? There was no prize-money to be had now, +and it would be years before he could scrape together any considerable +sum. To go to sea again, to forget his mother, put away all thoughts +of home, to forget Gideon and his teaching, and enjoy life like other +sailors;—this, he thought, was the only thing left for him to do. + +"I'll go back to the 'Royal Tar,' treat the fellows all round, spend +my money as fast as I can, and go to sea again. It's no use thinking +of anything else. Gideon warned me, and I wouldn't heed him. I've lost +him, and I've lost my own people, and there's no use in trying to be +good; the bad comes more natural. I give up, and I'll have some fun, +anyhow." + +And in order to begin as soon as possible to be exceedingly jolly and +merry, Tom here began to sing. He had a fine mellow voice, sweet and +tuneful. And as he strode along, meaning to go through Plymouth and +make his way to the public-house in Dock (as Devonport was then called) +where he had left his comrades, he shouted out a long ditty about "the +saucy 'Arethusa,'" and dashed along at a great pace. + +Presently he almost ran against a gentleman with only one arm, who was +coming out of a shop. And at the same moment, some one laid hold of +him, saying— + +"I'd know his pipe among a thousand! Stay a moment, Tom." + +Tom turned. The speaker was Gideon Terlizzeck, and the gentleman was +Captain Egerton. + +"Why, Adderley, is this you?" said the captain, doubtfully; not +doubting that this was Tom, but doubting much whether Tom was in a fit +condition to be spoken to by his old captain. + +"'Tis me, sir," said Tom. And he added, after a pause, "I'm all right, +sir. I'm quite sober." + +"Yes, I see you are.—Gideon, bring him home with you.—Mrs. Egerton's +waiting for me, but I shall see you again presently, Tom. Gideon has +been looking for you. We heard this morning that the 'Inconstant' was +paid off." + +"Yes, sir. You're very kind, Captain Egerton.—Oh, Gideon, Gideon, but I +wish I'd never left you!" + +"Come along, my lad; come with me now. Where have you been staying, +Tom?" + +"'Royal Tar,' near the dockyard gate." + +"Ay, I know it. Your kit will be safe there; 'tis an honest house. The +captain lives out the other way, on the Laira Road; and I live with +him." + +"Don't go to sea no more?" asked Tom. + +"No more—unless the captain goes, and wishes to take me. He's served +his time for his flag, and will be an admiral pretty soon, and his +health has not been the same since he lost his arm. So I think his +sea-going days are over; and, if so, mine are over too." + +"Ay, ay," said Tom, in a dreary, absent tone. He did not more than half +understand what Gideon said, and though he walked along beside his old +friend, he did not know where he was going. His mind was in such a +tumult of grief and anger—anger with Robins, not with himself—that he +could think of nothing else. And all the time a small voice kept saying +to him, "You are rightly served; you deserved to lose your money." + +Gideon became silent when he saw that Tom did not attend to him. They +left the town behind them, and walked along a fine open road, with the +Laira (an inlet of the harbour) on one side, and on the other pretty +little domains with gardens and comfortable houses, mostly inhabited by +half-pay naval officers. At the gate of one of these Gideon stopped. +There was a tiny red-brick gate-house, and to this he led the way. + +"Here's where I've slung my hammock," said he, as he unlocked the door. + +Tom roused up for the first time, and looked round with some interest. +The one room was in the most exquisite state of cleanliness and order, +but to our eyes it would have looked very bare. There was just enough +furniture for one person, with an extra chair for a visitor. The +floor was tiled, and the tiles were rubbed till they were as red as +if new. Before the clumsy, comfortable, wooden armchair lay a small +square of carpet, neatly edged round with fringe. On the white walls, +which might have been white-washed that morning, hung a model of a +frigate, and a picture representing a sea-fight, wherein smoke was the +most conspicuous feature; a coffee-pot, a frying-pan, and a small tin +saucepan. The little grate held a spark of fire, and a shining kettle +set on the hob. Big hooks in the walls showed that when Gideon said he +slung his hammock here, he had used no figure of speech; indeed, the +hammock, its canvas as white as snow, lay rolled up neatly on a low +shelf. Another shelf held a few cups and saucers and plates, and there +was a cupboard for provisions. Gideon drew Tom in, and shut the door. + +"My house, Tom. You're welcome, my son, right welcome. Do you know, +I've prayed for this moment, many and many a time. Isn't it snug, Tom? +Isn't it, now?" the old man said, looking proudly round. + +He had taken Tom's hand in his. But now Tom pulled it away, dropped +into the armchair, and laid his arms on the table. Down went his head, +till his face was hidden on his outstretched arms, and then great sobs +shook his broad shoulders, and poor Tom, quite broken down by Gideon's +kindness and a sudden sense of his own unworthiness, cried like a baby. + +"My lad! My dear lad! I sought you all yesterday and this morning, for +to break the bad news to you like, but never went to the 'Royal Tar.' I +went to the quiet old place where you and I used to stop." + +"You know, then, about Robins, Gideon?" said Tom, raising his head and +rubbing the tears away. + +"Yes. The captain was in Plymouth the day his boat, and some others +too, were seized, and he happened to mention it to me." + +"Does the captain know about my money?" + +"Yes; I told him as how Robins was an old comrade of yours, and that +you had trusted him with some money to trade with. I had for to tell +him that much—I'll explain why presently. How did you hear of it?" + +"I went to his house, and the woman who has the public-house opposite +told me. I was going back to the 'Royal Tar' when you met me." + +[Illustration: GREAT SOBS SHOOK HIS BROAD SHOULDERS, AND POOR TOM . . . +CRIED LIKE A BABY.] + +"Tom, I'm sorry, 'very' sorry for you." + +"Gideon, you're not sorry that I've lost that money. You can't be; for +you 'are' good and upright. You warned me. I mind you said,— + +"'Get back your twenty-five guineas that you gave him, and don't take +another shilling, for his earnings are dishonest money, and you'll have +no blessing on it.' + +"Those were your words, and I wouldn't mind them. And now I'm ruined +altogether." + +"You've lost the money, Tom, but you've escaped a much worse thing +than that. You'll soon see that you've a deal to be thankful for. That +fellow Robins saved his life by turning king's evidence, and he gave +your name as having given funds towards the business. 'Twere then I +told the captain about it. And he went and got a lawyer, and they saw +Robins, and made him own up that he told you 'twas all honest trade. +And so, by saying how you had sailed with him, and giving you a good +character, the captain got you out of that scrape, which might have +been a very ugly one." + +"Gideon, I'll tell you the truth. Robins told me 'twas all right, as +you say, but I didn't believe him—not that last time." + +"Well, I never was asked about anything but the first time. You never +gave him any more, did you?" + +"No. 'Twas very good of the captain to do all this for me, but 'twas +better of you, Gideon, for I behaved ungrateful to you." + +"You was angry, but you wrote, if you remember. Indeed, I didn't wait +for that to forgive you, Tom. That letter was the means of bringing me +to my present comfortable anchorage. I'm gardener, under the mistress, +and I mind the pony, under the captain; and I get my dinner at the +house, and live here in great peace and comfort. At first I had a girl +to do for me, but, bless you, she made work for me—she did indeed. +Females don't seem to me to know straight from crooked, nor yet how to +put a real finish on anything. I do for myself now. Have a pipe, Tom? +'Twill soothe your spirits." + +Pipes being lighted, both men were silent for a time. Presently a +well-known voice called— + +"Lodge ahoy! Are you there, Terlizzeck? Gate!" + +Gideon hurried out to admit the pony carriage. Mrs. Egerton was +driving, and as soon as she was inside the gate, she drew up. + +"Adderley here?" said the captain. + +"Ay, ay, sir," answered Tom, appearing at the door. + +"Oh, come here, Tom Adderley," said Mrs. Egerton, "and let me thank you +for saving my boy. It's an old story now, I know, but, you see, I never +met you before." + +"I'm sure, ma'am, you're very welcome," said Tom, blushing all over. + +"Come up to the house to dinner with Gideon," said the captain, "and +you'll see Mr. Egerton. He is at home, you know." + +"Is he going afloat again, sir?" inquired Tom. + +"Oh no, not just yet," Mrs. Egerton replied hastily. + +The captain laughed, and said, "Drive on, Carrie." And off they drove. + +"Nov, Tom, you stay here and make yourself at home, till such time as I +hail you from the other end of the drive; then come to me. I must go to +take the pony and make all snug." + +"Let me go along and help you," said Tom. "I haven't forgotten how to +tackle a pony yet." + +By the time the pony was rubbed down, and the carriage washed, and the +neat little stable, coach-house, and yard made snug, a bell rang. + +"That's for dinner," said Gideon. "I used to live altogether in my own +berth, but the mistress found out that I am no great hand at cooking, +beyond a slice of fried bacon or an egg, so she regulated that I +should dine here, and the moment the captain is served—and of course +Mr. Charlie or any visitor—she carves for me, and I has my dinner in +a little room off the kitchen. All to myself, like Joseph and his +brethren—ye mind that, Tom? This way." + +After dinner, Tom had a few kind words from the captain and Mrs. +Egerton, and was then taken by Gideon to see the garden. Mrs. Egerton +understood gardening well, and in Gideon she had a most zealous and +painstaking assistant. The rows of peas and beans were as straight and +even as if made by machinery. The cabbages were cut in rows—no looking +about for the best was permitted here; and as each row disappeared, the +ground was dug over and raked smooth. Not a morsel of rough ground was +to be seen. As to weeds, they never had a chance of getting beyond two +saucy little leaves. + +The only point upon which Gideon and his mistress differed was that he, +in his love of order, wanted to tie the rose trees to sticks, and to +force every one of them to grow in exactly the same form; also, when a +bed of mignonette began to look a little bit straggling, though still +in full blossom, Gideon would have liked to pull it all up and rake the +bed over, "trim and tidy." These things Mrs. Egerton would not allow, +but, in spite of her, the flower garden was somewhat severely tidy. + +Tom, however, approved of all he saw, and thought of mother's little +garden at home with the bees in the flowers—mother's garden that he +would never see again. + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE JOURNEY HOME. + +AT six o'clock Gideon "knocked off" work, Tom having pulled off his +jacket and handled a spade in fine style ever since dinner. In fact, he +was able to teach Gideon a thing or two about digging, and Gideon was +not above learning. + +They returned to the lodge, where Gideon prepared an abundant meal for +his guest—fried bacon, coffee, baker's bread, everything of the best, +and plenty of it. After supper they sat by the fire, though it was very +warm, and Gideon asked— + +"And when do you go north, Tom?" + +"North! Why, is there anything particular going on thereaway?" + +"Going home, I mean," answered Gideon. + +"Never," said Tom shortly. + +"Ay, and why, my lad, if one may ask?" + +"I think you hardly need ask, Gideon. I've been more than ten years +away now, and to go back just as I left them—not even a few poor +shillings to give mother, over and about the ten guineas I stole from +her! I'd be the laughingstock of the place. They've forgot me by this +time." + +"Mothers don't forget, nor yet fathers, I'm told, but I never had one—I +had only a mother. She was a good mother, and so is yours, kind and +loving-hearted as a woman should be. And I tell you, Tom, if she has +forgotten aught about you, 'twill be that you took that money without +her leave." + +"No, not she," answered Tom. "Mother's as good as gold, but she ain't +one of your soft sort, and she—well, Gideon, she has a tongue, not +scolding or brawling, but a tongue you'll have to mind." + +There was a short silence. Then Tom said— + +"I've done wrong, and I own to it. I began badly when I took that +money. Having taken it, I ought to have got Captain Collins to write +after my first voyage, and pay it back. I could have done it even then. +I did not do that, and then came the time I was pressed. Well, when I +was leaving the 'Star,' I had a notion to leave my money with Captain +Collins to send to mother. I didn't do that, and in five minutes more +the money was at the bottom of the sea. Then, when I had money again, +you urged upon me to go home for a bit. But no, I must have more money +to take with me. Then I met Robins, and you warned me again and again, +and I only fell out with you. I see it all plain enough, now that it's +too late. The money's gone, and I have no heart to begin again. It's +just my punishment—to go on being a sailor, all alone in the world +except for you, Gideon, all the rest of my life." + +Terlizzeck gazed thoughtfully into the fire. + +"You own up that you were in the wrong?" said he. + +"I do, Gideon. My pride is broken down. I see that I was all wrong." + +"No, Tom, your pride's not broken down. First time you and me ever +had a yarn, I mind well reading you the parable about the son that +went home after wasting his substance, and you said how you would +never do that—go home empty-handed, asking to be forgiven. Since then, +you've been changed in many ways, Tom. You've learned many a lesson, +and you're a steady, decent lad, and not without the fear of God +neither, but always your pride stands in your way. You don't like to be +forgiven—you'd like to earn it; and you can't earn it, not even from +your mother; and no one can earn it from God Almighty." + +Gideon ceased to speak, but Tom made no attempt to reply. + +"Seems to me," Gideon went on presently, "that you're mistaken when you +think you've learned the lesson all this ought to have taught you. And +another mistake—'twas you did wrong, and you're going to punish your +mother." + +"No, no; she won't want me. She has father and Sam." + +"You can't say for sure. A many things can happen in ten years. Anyway, +to my eyes, your duty is plain. And that is, to go home, confess your +fault, pay back what you can, and hear what your mother may have to say +to you; then to sea again with a good conscience. If you don't do this, +you'll never be happy in your mind. You'll go to sea; the temptations +are great—you'll not keep straight because you won't be helped. You +know yourself how it's like to end." + +Gideon here got up and busied himself in slinging his hammock, and a +second, which Captain Egerton had lent him, for Tom. Then he read a +chapter in the Bible aloud, said his prayers, and remarked— + +"I'll turn in, my lad, for I've got to be early." + +Gideon was soon asleep. Not so Tom. He lay there, thinking, then +dozing, and then thinking again. He dreamed of his mother. He saw her +working in her garden, busy and happy, and he was a boy again, helping +her. Then suddenly she looked sad and ill, and she said to him, "Where +are my golden guineas, Tom? Now the rainy day has come, I miss them." + +Tom woke up and could sleep no more. + +In the morning he said to Gideon— + +"Old friend, you are right all round. I ought to go home and say I'm +sorry, but I don't feel able to do it. That's the truth." + +"You was never a coward, Tom," said the old man quietly. + +They had breakfast, and then Tom said— + +"I'd better go and see after my kit, and, if I may, I'll come back in +the evening." + +"You'll never be aught but welcome, my son," replied Gideon. + +Tom came back in the evening in great spirits, saying— + +"Oh, Gideon, I've had such a piece of luck. I met Mr. Egerton, walking +with an old gentleman—I didn't take him for a sailor, but it was Sir +Michael Elliott, who is going to hoist his flag aboard the 'Conqueror,' +in the Mediterranean. And Mr. Egerton had been recommending me to him, +as he wanted a sober young man for cox of his own boat! And he don't +sail for two months, so I've plenty of time to go home; and I am going, +Gideon." + +"And you'll always be glad as you did so," remarked Gideon. "I'm real +glad, Tom." + + +Tom made the voyage to Liverpool on board a collier brig returning +for a cargo, and to see Mr. Tom turning up his nose at the dirt and +untidiness of that collier was an amusing sight. But the collier was +slow as well as dirty, and by the time Tom was landed in Liverpool, +he had lost the glow of his good intentions and felt very much +inclined to—run away. The idea of facing his people under his present +circumstances was so galling that he lingered a whole day in Liverpool, +and it is hard to say what he might have done, if he had not happened +to meet Captain Collins. The last time he saw his old captain he was a +hale, hearty man: now he was bent and aged and weak. Tom hardly knew +him. Having with difficulty made the old man remember him, Tom inquired +politely for Mrs. Collins. The old man sighed. + +"I've buried her, Adderley. Lost her five years ago. Never the same +since. I'm getting old—getting old. Time flies. Seems to me only +yesterday I was a young fellow like you." + +Somehow, this made Tom set off inland the next morning. + +It was a longish tramp, but the worst of it was that he had to spend +some of his money for food and lodging. Footsore and weary, he at last +found himself in a familiar place. He knew that he was close to Burdeck. + +Tom sat down and rested. He ate some food that he had with him, and +then carefully arranged his dress and shook off the dust. He did not +want to look weary and forlorn. Then he walked on. Ah! There was little +Burdeck nestling in its valley, and that smoke came from the chimney of +his old home. + +And now he stood at the garden gate, half-hoping that mother would +look-out and know him. The garden—what ailed it? And the apricot +was dead; the pear tree hung loose and ragged from the wall. Half +frightened, he opened the gate and strode to the door. + +"Who's within?" he cried, and his voice sounded strange to his own +ears. He had to call more than once. At last, just as he was making up +his mind to open the door for himself, it was opened by a dirty looking +woman with a baby in her arms. + +"What d'ye want?" said she, looking half frightened. + +"Who are you?" he answered. "Your name is never Adderley?" + +"No—I don't know the name. Be off now; I want no tramps about." + +"Hold hard, mistress," said Tom, as she was going to shut the door. +"Where is Thomas Adderley that lived here once?" + +"'Twas before our time," she answered, and she shut the door. + +He heard her lock it. After a moment or so, he walked away, and went up +the garden of the next house, where the Trayners used to live. He felt +quite stupid. A decent looking young woman was at the door. She, too, +had a baby in her arms. + +"Does Matthew Trayner live here still?" Tom said. + +"No, Wat, his son. What do you want with the Trayners?" + +"Mistress, I'm not a tramp," said Tom quickly. "I belong to these +parts, and have been away at sea for years. All I want is to know where +I may find my people." + +"My husband is away at work, but he'll be back soon after six. Maybe I +can tell you, but I'm not Burdeck born. I came from Wakefield." + +"Thomas Adderley, my father, he lived in that cottage—where is he?" + +"Are you an Adderley? Come in and sit down. I've heard my sister-in-law +Lucy talk of you. You're Tom, that went away?" + +"Yes. Oh, tell me, if you know, where I'll find my people." + +"Sit down," she said gently, and she went and laid her baby in the +cradle. "'Tis little I can tell you, and—it's not good news. Your poor +father is dead; dead some years." + +"My father dead!" said Tom. "A great strong man like he, and not to say +old neither. I can scarce believe it." + +"It is true; and I do wish Wat was here, for I hate telling you bad +news. It wouldn't sound so bad in a friend's voice. 'Twas a fever that +was very bad here; it was nine years ago. Wat's father and mother died +of it, and your father got it and lived through it. But he was never +the same again. He took on so about—" Here she paused. + +"Go ahead, mistress. Tell me every word." + +"'Twas about his oldest son. He was the first to get the fever, and he +died. Your poor father, he got to be like a child—no sense, and not +able to work. His master was very kind and left him in the cottage, and +Mrs. Adderley worked for him and kept him wonderful comfortable. When +he died, of course, she had to leave the cottage." + +"And where is she now?" cried Tom, standing up and groping for his hat. +"Poor father! Poor old Sam! But tell me where mother is, that I may go +to her." + +The young woman looked away from him. + +"When Wat comes home," she said, "he'll be able to tell you; I can't. I +can tell you no more." + +She went and brought him a mug of clear, cold water, saying, "You look +mazed—so you do. Drink some water, and sit here till Wat comes." + +Tom drank the water. He really was not quite himself. He sat down, and +Mrs. Trayner hoped he would stay quiet till her husband came in. But in +a few minutes Tom was up again. + +"Where are you going?" she asked him. "Do sit still a bit; you look—" + +"I'm smothering. I must get out into the air," said Tom. + +"Well, walk up that way, towards the church," she said, not wanting him +to go on into the village. + +He had left his bundle, so she knew he would come back. He walked a +little way towards the church, then came back to her. + +"Lookey here; you 'knows,' and you may as well tell me. Is she dead +too?" + +"Oh no. And Wat knows and will tell you where you'll find her." + +Tom turned away, but this time he went on to the village. + +The shop, the forge, all as of old, but no one knew him, nor did he +look at any one. At last he was at the gate of the garden, in the +corner of which old Master Dwight used to sit in the sun and "mind his +latter end—" at least, so he said. Not thinking of what he did, Tom +opened the gate and sought the well-remembered sunny corner. And there, +looking as if he had never moved since Tom said good-bye to him, sat +old Master Dwight, blinking in the hot sun, and mumbling to himself in +a querulous tone— + +"Too long! Too long! I'm living too long. They're all tired of my +stories; no one comes to listen to 'em now. Who's this? A sailor; ay, +and a king's man, too! Trust old Dwight to know that. What d'ye say, +eh? Speak up! I'm getting a 'little' bit deaf." + +"Don't you know me, Master Dwight?" + +"To be sure I do," said the old fellow, genially. "You're Ben Benson, +master of the 'Rosy Dawn.' But no; Ben's dead, so you can't be Ben. +Adderley, is it? No, I don't know any one by that name, do I. Yes, +to be sure, but only of late years, and things slip out of my head. +Adderley! Yes, he died of the great fever, and so did his son Sam. And +the other boy was run away; and the mother, foolish woman, blamed me +for that. + +"But, for all that, I stood up for her. When she buried her husband, +and was ill with hardship and overwork, I stood up for her, though she +had tongued me more than once. I said plainly as it was a shame to the +whole village to let a decent, good woman like her go to the House. I +said, 'One of ye take her in, and when she gets better, her work will +be worth her keep.' But they're a mean lot here, and disgraceful poor. +And there was the little maid, too—a pretty little maid, and of a good +stock. But who'll marry her now, bred up in Wakefield Workhouse?" + +Tom stood as if turned to stone. He had all the English peasant's +horror of the workhouse. His mother—his tidy, thrifty, busy mother! So +this was her fate! And pretty little Dolly! Ah, no wonder Wat Trayner's +wife had disliked telling him this! + +Old Dwight was still talking away, but Tom did not hear a word he said. +He started after a few minutes, and, leaving the garden, walked quickly +back to the Trayners' cottage. + +"Mistress," he said, "I know all now. Old Dwight told me. You've a kind +heart; you couldn't bring yourself to do it. And there's old Dwight, +not a day older to look at; and my father and—Give me my bundle, like a +good soul. I can reach Wakefield before night." + +"You are not able for it. Do stay a bit, and Wat will tell you—" + +"There's nothing more to tell. She buried her husband and her good son; +and the son that ought to have been her support had run off; and worse, +and—" + +"If you had stayed, maybe you would have died of the fever too." + +"And better I had," returned Tom. "Good-bye. You've been very kind to +me." + +[Illustration] + + + +[Illustration] + +CHAPTER XII. + +BETTER THAN GOLDEN GUINEAS. + +AT an early hour of the next day, a young man in sailor's garb might +have been seen in the streets of Wakefield, asking the way to the +workhouse, but he lost his way so often, in spite of all his questions, +that he began to think the people were misleading him on purpose. He +was standing at the corner of a street, wondering which of the two that +lay before him he was to take, when a pretty, tidy young woman with a +basket on her arm passed him. + +She started a little when she saw him. Presently she turned and came +back. As she drew near, she looked at something "very" interesting at +the other side of the street, and said in a low voice, "I wonder is +it—Tom Adderley?" + +Tom looked at her. "Did you call me?" he said. + +"Why, then, you 'are' Tom," said the girl, putting her hand on his arm. +"Oh, Tom, what years and years it is since I saw you last! I kept your +secret, Tom. No one ever knew that I saw you that day." + +"If this ain't Lucy Trayner!" cried Tom, his face brightening a little. +"Ah, Lucy, things are sore changed since that day. I got to Burdeck +yesterday, to find strangers in the old home, and a new mistress in +yours. I didn't see Wat, and not a soul knew me." + +"But did no one tell you? Oh, poor Tom!" + +"Yes, your sister-in-law told me; and a kind soul she is. And mother is +in the workhouse here. Oh, Lucy, that's the worst of it all. She that +was so clever and so busy, to be shut up there with no one to care for; +and it's my fault! I declare I wonder you can bear to look at me, Lucy." + +"Your fault, for running away? Well, 'twas wrong, I know, but your +mother never says a word of blame to you, and—" + +"Mother never blames me?" + +"Never once—never to me, anyhow. I go to see her when I can. And oh, +but I am glad you've come back to her! You'll make up to her now for +all." + +"Lucy, will you show me where the workhouse is?" + +"In this street. Come, and I'll show you. I must not stay too long; I'm +in service here. But my mistress is very kind." + +She stopped presently at an iron gate in a high wall. + +"This is the House, Tom. I know the matron; shall I just tell her who +you are?" + +"If you would, 'twould be a kindness." + +"And you'll tell me what you mean to do? Ask for Dr. Cartwright's house +in George Street; I live there." + +A man came to the gate, and Lucy asked to see Mrs. Good, the mistress. +They were admitted, and were soon in Mrs. Good's neat parlour. + +Mrs. Good was a kindly, sentimental little woman, who cried over Lucy's +story, and said it was real touching. "And I'll send for Mrs. Adderley, +and then you can see her here comfortably, sir." + +Lucy left them, as she could spare no more time. + +Mrs. Good went away; she felt that the mother and son would be happier +alone. + +Tom thought that his mother would pass the window of the little +parlour, so he stood watching for her. + +But she came in by a back door, and Mrs. Good only told her that there +was a young man wanting to see her. + +Ah, some years ago—not many, for she had been but four years in the +House—Mrs. Adderley would have suspected in a moment that the "young +man" was Tom! But hope and expectation had died out of her, in the +sameness and dreariness of her life. She just walked in and said, when +the tall figure at the window did not turn round— + +"What's your will, sir?" + +She had fancied it might be Wat Trayner, who sometimes came to see her. +Seeing that it was not he, she wondered a little why she was wanted. + +Tom turned now, took a hasty step forward, and stopped. A little bent +old woman, with a patient white face and weak eyes (much crying had +dimmed them)—this was not his mother! + +"It was Mrs. Adderley, from Burdeck—Oh, mother, mother!" For he knew +her—suddenly. + +"Who calls me 'mother'?" she said. "Come here; let me see you. Why, +'tis my Tom, my darling boy that I haven't seen these eleven years! Oh, +Tom, be it really you?" + +"Mother, it is. Your bad boy that robbed you and ran away, and left you +to come to—this." + +She was sobbing and laughing, and holding him by the arm, going on +altogether like a crazy creature. + +"My Tom! Grown a man, and such a fine man, too. My boy! The same curls +on his head, and the same look in his eyes. Yes, you were bad, Tom, to +run away and disobey poor father and me. And I hope you've repented of +it. But don't fret, my boy; don't ye be 'too' sorry. Your poor father +often said, 'Tom will get on; he were too stirring for Burdeck ways.' +And he left his blessing for you, and his forgiveness—he did, Tom, +truly. Oh, my own boy, I can die in peace now." + +"Sit down, mother dear; you're all of a tremble. Tell me all, mother. I +only know that poor father and Sam are both dead." + +Mrs. Adderley told her story, but not very lucidly. She went backwards +and forwards, she made mistakes and corrected them, and she told many +particulars which had nothing to do with it. But all this was only +doing after the fashion of women of her class when excited, and Tom +understood very well. He gathered that she had never told any one that +he had robbed her, not even her husband. Also, that if she had had a +little money when Adderley died, she could have set up a little shop in +Burdeck, and have supported herself and Dolly. Dolly was in service—put +out by "the Board," they called themselves—and her grandmother had not +seen her for many months. + +"And she such a pet, Tom! I do fret after Dolly, the pretty little +dear." + +"Mother," answered Tom, "every word you say is like sticking a knife +into me. I ought to have been here to work for you and little Dolly, +and I've worse than that to confess to you. I can't be easy till I've +told you all. But can you listen now?" + +"Yes, I can," she said promptly. "The sound of your voice, Tom, though +'tis changed a bit, do make me feel so happy that I could listen for +ever. But I don't know that I could give my mind to the meaning." + +But she did give her mind to it, when Tom was fairly launched on his +story. He concealed nothing. When he ceased, she knew his history as +well as he knew it himself. + +"So now, you see, mother, what a bad son I've been to you. Time and +again I might have paid you back what I took—your golden guineas that +you never said a word about, for fear I should be blamed. If I had sent +that money by Captain Collins, it would have kept father in comfort and +you from overworking yourself. If I'd come home when the 'Imogene' was +paid off, I'd have been in time to set up the little shop for you. Now +I've come at last, nearly empty-handed. But, mother, see; I'm kneeling +here before you. Put your blessed old hand on my head, and say, 'Tom, +I forgive you.' Do say it, mother. I was wrong all through—proud, and +selfish, and careless—but forgive me, if you can, knowing all." + +She put her hand on his head, but stopped to pull out one of the close +curls and look at it lovingly. + +"The times I've dreamt that the deep sea was hiding them curls!" she +said. "Forgive ye, child? Mothers don't forgive; they don't need to." +And she flung her arms round his neck and kissed him again and again. + +"From this moment, mother, I belong to you. I'll get work here; I'll +make a home for you and Dolly, and—and you'll be like yourself again." + +To see how her changed face brightened, and how, in a moment, her +business-like faculties were at work again! She made him tell her what +money he had, and advised him to get Lucy Trayner to help him to look +for lodgings—furnished, for he had not enough to buy furniture—they +could do that by-and-by. Then he was to get her some clothes— + +"For, you know, these I have on are not my own; and mind, now, 'very' +little will do for a time." + +And then he was to go to Mr. Samuel Trotter, in the main street. This +was the fruiterer and vegetable dealer who used to buy all her fruit +and honey in the good old days. And he would help Tom to get a place, +for he was a kind man, and would remember her. And he was on no account +to take Dolly from her place until Mrs. Adderley was ready to see after +her. + +Tom laughed, and promised obedience. "I know you again now, mother," +said he. + +All this was done as Mrs. Adderley directed, only Lucy and Tom were +extravagant, she declared, in the purchase of clothes for her. A queen, +she said, might have worn that plaid shawl, and thankful! Mr. Trotter +took Tom into his own employment to drive his light cart, both for +leaving goods at purchasers' houses, and going here and there in the +season to buy fruit—a part of his work—for which Mr. Trotter had got +too fat and lazy. Poor little Dolly was taken from a very hard, rough +place, and began to go to school regularly. The church schools in +Wakefield were very good, and Dolly, naturally clever, was soon able to +teach her uncle to read, and even, as time went on, to write. + +But for many a long day it was only by a great effort of his strong +will that Tom kept up a cheerful demeanour before his mother and +Dolly. He had really loved his profession, and had left it just when +his prospects were very bright. He had got Lucy's master to write to +Captain Egerton for him, begging him to tell Gideon how things were +with him, and to explain to Admiral Elliott that he could not go to sea +again. But life seemed very dull and his work very uninteresting. And +sometimes he wondered, if his mother knew how he hated it, would she +not insist on his going to sea again? + +But he never told her. He fought against his feelings like a brave +man—nay, better than that, like a Christian man; and, by God's help, he +conquered himself, and came out of the conflict a better and a stronger +man. And his mother was wonderfully happy, "keeping house" for him. + +Tom saved and pinched his own personal expenditure, until he had +saved up ten guineas. It took him a long time, but he got several +Christmas-boxes in money from Mr. Trotter's customers, and this helped +him. He bought a little wooden box, as like the old one as he could get +it, and took box and all to his mother. + +"Mother dear, take this. There's no interest, mother; it's only what I +robbed you of." + +Mrs. Adderley laughed at first, then cried a little, and finally +counted the guineas. + +"Ten," said she. "That's one too many, Tom. You only took nine." + +Tom started. + +"Right you are, mother. I said I'd always reckon that I took ten, and I +declare I had forgotten that I put one back." + +"And you needn't have done this, Tom, for you are better to me than any +number of golden guineas." + +"Lay them by to be a fortune for Dolly, by-and-by," said Tom, laughing. + +But Tom was far too clever and painstaking to remain always in such a +place as that of van-driver. He learned to read and write, and to keep +accounts without the help of notched sticks. And, as old Mr. Trotter +had no children and liked Tom very much, he took him into the shop +as foreman, and afterwards as partner. Tom's cleverness and energy +increased the business very much, and he found plenty of scope for both +in his new employment. + +After a while he married Lucy Trayner, who had never forgotten her +promise to marry him when he came home. And some time after his +marriage, old Gideon Terlizzeck paid him a long-promised visit, when +Mrs. Adderley and Lucy heard more of Tom's life at sea than he had ever +told them. One day Gideon happened to mention his intention to go with +Admiral Elliott when he returned from visiting his mother. Tom had +never spoken of it. + +"Tom," said his mother, "if I'd known what a fine prospect you had +before you, I don't believe I'd have let you give it up." + +"Ah yes, ma'am, you would," said Gideon. "'Twas his clear duty, all the +more because of the way he left you before. He'd have had no blessing +on his life if he had left you again. And I don't see that a man could +be happier or better off than he is now." + +"That's very true," said Tom, "and I'll tell you the whole truth, +mother. I did love the sea, and the excitement, and everything about +it, and when I came here first I had a tough battle before I could take +to my new life. A craving, it seemed; just like what poor Dick Carr +used to say 'he' had when he went to sea after a time ashore, when he +had been drinking. But I always felt that it would leave me, and it +did. And since then, I've been happier than I ever was before. For I +always felt that I was doing wrong, even when I denied it most. And +I always had a feeling that, sooner or later, I'd be punished, if I +didn't repent. When I lost my money, I knew I had expected it, though I +would not say so. Well, if I got another trial, as I surely did, I owe +it to you, Gideon. 'Twas you put the truth before me, so that I 'had' +to face it. All through, you've been a true friend to me." + +"That's pleasant for an old man to hear," said Gideon. And then he +added, simply and reverently, "But let us give God the glory. His hand +was over us for good." + + + + THE END. + + + + PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, + LONDON AND BECCLES. + + + + + + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76620 *** diff --git a/76620-h/76620-h.htm b/76620-h/76620-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..691d092 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/76620-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3907 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + Mother's Golden Guineas, by Annette Lyster│ Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/image001.jpg" type="image/cover"> + <style> + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + font-size:12.0pt; + font-family:"Verdana"; +} + +p {text-indent: 2em;} + + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; +} + +hr { + width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: 33.5%; + margin-right: 33.5%; + clear: both; +} + +/* Images */ + +img { + max-width: 100%; + height: auto; +} + +.w100 { + width: auto + } + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; + page-break-inside: avoid; + max-width: 100%; +} + +p.t1 {text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 125%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t2 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 150%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + text-align: center + } + +p.t3b { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 100%; + font-weight: bold; + text-align: center + } + +p.t4 { + text-indent: 0%; + font-size: 80%; + text-align: center + } + +p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; + font-size: 90%; + margin-left: 10% ; + margin-right: 10% } + + </style> +</head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76620 ***</div> + + +<p>Transcriber's note: Unusual and inconsistent spelling is as printed.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image001" style="max-width: 33.8125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image001.jpg" alt="image001"> +</figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image002" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image002.jpg" alt="image002"> +</figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>"ONE MIGHT DO," THOUGHT TOM,</b><br> +<b>LOOKING AT THE BRIGHT COINS.</b><br> +<b><em>Frontispiece.</em></b> + + + <br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<h1>MOTHER'S GOLDEN GUINEAS.</h1> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +BY<br> +</p> + +<p class="t1"> +ANNETTE LYSTER<br> +<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +AUTHOR OF "GRANNIE," "FAITHFUL," "OUT IN THE COLD,"<br> +"THE WHITE GIPSY," "ALONE IN CROWDS," ETC.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +<b>ILLUSTRATED BY F. G. KITTON.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +—————————————<br> +PUBLISHED UNDER THE DIRECTION OF THE COMMITTEE<br> +OF GENERAL LITERATURE AND EDUCATION APPOINTED BY THE<br> +SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE.<br> +—————————————<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +LONDON:<br> +SOCIETY FOR PROMOTING CHRISTIAN KNOWLEDGE<br> +</p> + +<p class="t4"> +NORTHUMBERLAND AVENUE, CHARING CROSS, W.C.;<br> +43, QUEEN VICTORIA STREET. E.C.<br> +BRIGHTON: 135, NORTH STREET.<br> +NEW YORK: E. & J. B. YOUNG AND CO.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image003" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image003.jpg" alt="image003"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t3b"> +CONTENTS.<br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image004" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image004.jpg" alt="image004"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>CHAPTER</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_1">I. BURDECK</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_2">II. TOM MAKES A HORSE-SHOE</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_3">III. TOM GOES TO SEA</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_4">IV. PRESSED</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_5">V. OLD GIDEON</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_6">VI. THE ARTICLES OF WAR</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_7">VII. "THREE CHEERS FOR CAPTAIN EGERTON!"</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_8">VIII. A "CUTTING-OUT" EXPEDITION</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_9">IX. PAID OFF</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_10">X. TOM'S ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY GUINEAS</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_11">XI. THE JOURNEY HOME</a></p> + +<p><a href="#Chapter_12">XII. BETTER THAN GOLDEN GUINEAS</a></p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image005" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image005.jpg" alt="image005"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image006" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image006.jpg" alt="image006"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<p class="t2"> +<b>MOTHER'S GOLDEN GUINEAS.</b><br> +</p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image007" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image007.jpg" alt="image007"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_1">CHAPTER I.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>BURDECK.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>SOMEWHERE between Wakefield and Doncaster, but much nearer Wakefield, +there is a little village called Burdeck, which even in these days of +progress is but a small place, and of no importance in any way. But in +the days of which I am about to tell you something, it was so utterly +insignificant, so little known except to the few who lived there, +and to the nobleman of whose estate it formed part, that had it been +swallowed up by an earthquake, some time might have elapsed before +it was missed. Yet to the twenty or thirty families who lived there, +Burdeck was just as interesting and important as London is to such of +my readers as may happen to live there; nay, perhaps more important, +because you know other places as well as London, while to the people of +Burdeck, Burdeck was the world—with Wakefield at a distance. No coach +came near Burdeck; it returned no member to Parliament; a newspaper +would have been of little use, for there were few who could read, and +fewer still who cared to do so.</p> + +<p>In Burdeck it was held to be not quite commendable to do anything but +what one's parents had done in their day. The farms were not very +extensive, but the farmers throve and employed a good deal of labour, +the labourers living in the little village. There was almost no actual +poverty, and no discontent. Things were as they had always been, and +therefore were as they ought to be. I do not mean that there was no +grumbling; the Burdeckers were Englishmen, and they grumbled heartily +at many things. At the weather, at the charges Giles the blacksmith +made for shoeing horses, etc., at the extortion practised at the one +little shop, at the length of time the cobbler took to "welt" the +shoes; oh yes, they grumbled, but then they enjoyed it. If all these +small afflictions had been removed, if the weather had always suited +them, the blacksmith had lowered his prices, the bread, bacon, and +cheese had been cheaper, and the cobbler more punctual, Burdeck would +have been at a loss for something to talk about. There were many things +they could have better spared than their little grumbles.</p> + +<p>All this took place early in the present century, now growing very old. +Of course in these enlightened days no one grumbles.</p> + +<p>It was a lovely evening in June; the work of the day was done, and the +labourers had reached home, and were most of them employed in making +a solid meal, each in his own clean and comfortable kitchen. Burdeck +was a very clean place. The good women, not being overworked, kept a +bright look-out on each other, and to have a dirty, untidy house, or to +send out one's children ragged and unwashed, were sins soon visited by +general condemnation.</p> + +<p>But if there was one cottage more trimly-neat, inside and outside, +one garden better stocked with vegetables of the common sorts, and +brighter with the sweet old common flowers than the rest, that cottage +and garden belonged to Thomas Adderley, ploughman at the Hill Farm. +For Thomas was a sober, industrious man, and he had a wife who was a +treasure in herself; a good, busy, thrifty woman, who found time for +many small industries, besides bringing up her family carefully and +comfortably.</p> + +<p>There was a certain peddler who went his rounds regularly in that part +of the country, and he always brought to Mrs. Adderley a quantity of +woollen yarn, which she knit up into stockings, mittens, cuffs, and +comforters, all of which he bought from her at his next visit. Then, +too, she kept bees, and every autumn a dealer from Wakefield came out +with his light cart, and bought all her honey and spare wax. She also +kept a few hens, and if she did not make money by her eggs, she saved +money by them, which is as good; she seldom sold eggs, but the bacon +went twice as far when there was a fine dish of fried eggs with it. +She worked in the garden herself, and taught the children to help her, +so that honest Thomas could rest after his hard day's work, instead of +having to turn out after supper to dig his garden. There was a fine +apricot on one side of the cottage door, and a pear on the other, and +the Wakefield shopkeeper bought all the fruit. Mrs. Adderley pruned and +trimmed those trees herself, and woe betide the child who should be so +misguided as to touch the fruit.</p> + +<p>"I'm saving up against a rainy day," she said, "and you must help +instead of hindering. Look, now—I'll take down the box and show you my +golden guineas. One of these days you may be very glad to get help from +that box, and when you want it, you'll be welcome to it. But you must +not waste our substance now. Health and strength don't last for ever, +and I mean to have something saved against a rainy day."</p> + +<p>But even before a "rainy day" came, mother's golden guineas were called +upon for help. When Sam, the eldest son, set up the horse and cart by +which he now earned such good wages, mother gave him every penny she +had to help him, the rest he had saved himself. When Dolly, the only +girl, married Harry Sands, mother's golden guineas bought some useful +furniture for the young couple. And when poor Harry was killed by a +kick from a vicious horse, within a year of his marriage, and Dolly +broke her heart and died, leaving her baby to her mother's care, the +guineas had to pay for the two funerals. Poor mother! Little joy had +she in that expenditure, though you may be sure she was pleased to do +things "creditably."</p> + +<p>You may imagine that, with all these calls upon the hoard, the number +of guineas was not at any time very great. There would often be only +one, with a few silver coins on their way to be transformed into a +second by-and-by. Mrs. Adderley always got her friend the peddler to +take her silver and give her gold, for, she said, "one might be tempted +to spend a shilling or two, when one would not break into a guinea." +Sometimes there were three, and more than once there had been five—but +at the time when my story opens there were actually ten! For Sam had +saved up by degrees, and had repaid his mother what she had given +him when he bought his horse, and the fruit and honey had been very +abundant last year. They promised well now, and Mrs. Adderley, standing +in her doorway on the evening in June of which I spoke, mentioned this +pleasing fact to her good man Thomas, who was steadily eating bread, +bacon, and eggs, and drinking milk, in the cheery kitchen.</p> + +<p>Beside him sat his son Sam, and on his knee was perched little +Dolly, his grandchild, now three years old, and the pet of the whole +household. Mrs. Adderley's cup and plate showed that she had been +partaking of the meal; and there were another cup and plate on the +table, not used as yet.</p> + +<p>"Come your ways in, woman," said Thomas, as he popped a specially crisp +morsel of bacon into Dolly's ready mouth, "and finish your supper. I +doubt Tom wants no supper to-night."</p> + +<p>"Dear, dear, Thomas, I wish the lad was home! I don't know how he +expects to keep a place if he behaves like this!"</p> + +<p>"If he behaves like what?" inquired Thomas. "Come, my woman, you'll +have to tell me."</p> + +<p>"Well—but you won't be hard upon him, Thomas, for he's a spirity, +wild lad, and hardness will only harden him.—Oh, there's old Jerry +Dwight. Tom's always after him, with his talk of Hull and Liverpool and +sea-going that he's always gabbling about. Maybe he'll know.—Master +Dwight! Master Dwight! Stop a bit!" She ran to the little gate. "Did +you see our Tom to-day, Master Dwight?"</p> + +<p>"Did I see who?" said old Dwight, putting his hand up to his ear—only +to gain time, for he heard well enough.</p> + +<p>"Our Tom! He hasn't come home yet."</p> + +<p>"Your Tom? Ah yes, Tom—young Thomas Adderley. A fine, strapping, +stirring lad, is Tom. And don't you believe, Mrs. Adderley, that you'll +ever make such another as Sam out of Tom. Tom has notions. You just +give him a little money, and let him go seek his fortunes. Tom would—"</p> + +<p>"Master Dwight, I'm not one bit obliged to you for giving words to such +a notion. Seek his fortunes, indeed! Seek a halter, you mean. Your +wanderers do mostly end like that. Since I can remember, only two lads +left Burdeck, and one of them 'listed for a soldier, and was shot dead +in forran parts. The vicar rode over on a week-day to tell his mother, +and you might have heard her screams a mile off. And the other was +hanged in York city for sheep-stealing. Tom's a little bit idle and +rampagious, but he'll settle down and be a comfort yet, if you'll let +him alone with your talk of seeking fortunes. If fortunes are so easy +to come by, why didn't 'you' get one with all your wandering? You just +leave my Tom alone—do now, Master Dwight; I ask it as a favour."</p> + +<p>"I leave your Tom alone?" old Dwight piped up in his shrill, cracked +voice. "You get Tom to leave 'me' alone, and 'tis little I shall run +after him. Your Tom is just the plague of my life. I be three score +and ten years old, and 'twould become me to be thinking frequent of +my latter end. And just when I'm set down in a sunny corner most +conformable for a quiet think, with maybe a little nap to rest me after +it, comes your Tom, begging and praying to hear of my adventures when +young. Not that I blame him, for he's got some spirit and is clever +beyond most Burdeck folk, and no doubt he finds me better company than +a lot of fellows that never saw anything but Burdeck, and can scarce +believe that the sun shines on other places.</p> + +<p>"I've been to Hull, I have; and was born in Liverpool, and was once in +London. If you disbelieve me, ask my darter. No doubt Tom likes to hear +what one like me can tell him. But, anyhow, I didn't eat him alive this +time, for here he comes. Good evening, Mrs. Adderley. I must be getting +towards home."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adderley looked, and beheld her hopeful Tom just parting from a +boy and girl of about his own age—Lucy Trayner and one of her numerous +brothers, part of a family which lived in the next cottage. Tom stood +talking to Lucy for a few moments, then came on, meeting old Dwight on +his way.</p> + +<p>"You'll catch it, my boy," said Dwight; "there's your mother on the +look-out for you."</p> + +<p>Tom laughed and ran on—a fine, well-grown, handsome lad of about +fifteen, tall for his age, and strong and active beyond the common.</p> + +<p>"Tom, where have you been all this day? Master Minchin sent a lass to +see about you, at twelve—and I thinking you had gone to your work like +a good lad!"</p> + +<p>"Well, mother, I told old Minchin last night that I'd never take hold +of a hay-fork again for him at fourpence a day. I do a man's work, and +he must give me a man's wages. I want to save some money. So, you see, +it's not my fault I wasn't at work. And I've had a grand day in the oak +wood with Lucy Trayner, and I'm as hungry as a wolf, so come along and +give me my supper."</p> + +<p>"Supper's over," she said, "and father's ill-pleased, and said you'd +get no supper to-night."</p> + +<p>Tom whistled a lively tune as they both walked up to the house.</p> + +<p>Thomas Adderley was now standing in the doorway.</p> + +<p>"Where have you been, Tom?" said he.</p> + +<p>"In the wood, father."</p> + +<p>"Not at your work at all, then? I suppose Farmer Minchin will be +dismissing you now—as Farmer Bell did at Christmas, and Farmer Cunlip +at Hallowmass! Tom, I never lifted my hand to one of ye yet, but seems +to me you'd be the better for a leathering."</p> + +<p>"Farmer Bell dismissed me because I said 'twasn't fair to make me work +Christmas Day, minding his horses, without paying me for it. Farmer +Cunlip said I was idle, but 'twas his own son was idle. Old Minchin +didn't dismiss me—'I' dismissed him."</p> + +<p>At these audacious words the whole family—father, mother, and +Sam—exclaimed, "Oh, laws!" Even little Dolly said it, but she was a +little late with it, and ended by a delighted burst of baby laughter.</p> + +<p>"I haven't said aught to surprise you so. I told old Minchin I would +not work for him any more at fourpence a day. I do as much as any of +the men, and he knows it, and I want to be saving money. He said he'd +see me further, so I didn't go to-day."</p> + +<p>"Mother," said Thomas, "this boy of yours will be a credit to us yet. +He'll come to the gallows as sure as eggs is eggs. The boldness of him! +I've had too much patience with you, Tom, that's how 'tis. Go to bed +this moment, without any supper, not so much as a crust. I'll go to +Farmer Minchin, and see if he'll overlook your folly just this once. +You're a boy till you're eighteen, as all Burdeck knows, and, boy or +man, you're bound to do as good a day's work as you can. Let me hear +no more of this nonsense. If Farmer Minchin won't take you back, I'll +go to Giles the blacksmith. Little Ben that blows the bellows is sick, +and I'll hire you to him. It's small pay, and Giles is as like to give +you a blow as a word—but 'twill do ye good. Now, mother, not a bite +of anything is he to get, but go to bed empty. Idle, saucy fellow, as +doesn't know when he's well off!"</p> + +<p>It was not often that quiet Thomas Adderley made so long a speech, and +that he should scold one of his children was a thing unheard of, as he +"left all that to the missus" generally.</p> + +<p>Accordingly, every one was much impressed. Dolly cried; Mrs. Adderley +looked vexed and sorry; Sam made his escape from the scene, and went to +visit Jane Waters, the girl he was slowly "courting;" even Tom failed +to whistle as he stole off to bed, and lay down, hungry and weary, to +think over his evil doings.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image008" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image008.jpg" alt="image008"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image009" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image009.jpg" alt="image009"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_2">CHAPTER II.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>TOM MAKES A HORSE-SHOE.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ADDERLEY came home late that night, and found his wife waiting +for him, with a pint of beer warming on the hob, and a "bite" of +bread-and-cheese on the table, ready for him.</p> + +<p>"I thought you'd be hungry, Thomas," said she. "And now tell me, what +did Master Minchin say?"</p> + +<p>"Says Tom will come to the gallows yet."</p> + +<p>"O mercy! My fine boy! But I don't mind Master Minchin. He's a +hot-tempered man, and maybe he's angered at losing Tom."</p> + +<p>"Maybe, but he 'says' he's glad to be rid of him. Says as Tom puts the +other lads up to mischief, and gives impudence when spoken to. Only two +days gone, when he was helped to his dinner, he took his plate in his +two hands and walked all up the room to where Mrs. Minchin was cutting +the bacon, and holds out the plate to her, and says, 'Ma'am, will ye +please to show me the bacon?' says he. 'I see the cabbage and the +bread,' says he. Mrs. Minchin, she up'd and boxed his ears, and says +he, 'That's no argument,' and the men and lasses all sniggering."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adderley turned her face away, and her voice shook a little as she +said—</p> + +<p>"O laws, how could he have the face? No wonder you look grave over it, +Thomas."</p> + +<p>"Mother, you're laughing."</p> + +<p>"Well," said she, "but will the Minchins take him back?"</p> + +<p>"No. 'He' would, but 'she' wouldn't have it. So I saw Giles, and 'tis +true he wants a boy. It's a poor place for a strapping fellow like +Tom—only twopence a day and his dinner. But it will take the conceit +out of him, and I'm not set on his earning money to save. Don't you be +soft with him, now, and say he may keep part of that twopence. Say he +eats more than twopence, but that it's better than nothing. I don't +believe it's for any good he wants to be saving. He ain't like Sam."</p> + +<p>"No, but you can't deny, Thomas, he's cleverer than Sam. See how he +mended them stools. Carpenter couldn't do it handier. See how he +patched his shoes t'other day. Cobbler couldn't beat it. And can tell +every letter, though he got no more schooling than the others, and Sam +can't tell the letters of his own name on his cart, no more than I can +myself. Oh, he's clever both with his head and his fingers, and if we +could 'prentice him in Wakefield, Thomas, he'd do well."</p> + +<p>"'Prentice him in Wakefield! Woman dear, are ye losing your wits? Why, +Master Bell's sons, two of 'em, is 'prenticed there, and I wonder what +Farmer Bell and my own master would say if I tried to do the like with +'my' son? Little work I'd get, I do expect. Set Tom up, forsooth! Let +him work honest for his daily bread, as his father, and my father, and +'his' father, ay, and 'his' father again, if so be he had one, did +before him. No good comes of being proud and above your station. I'll +keep Tom's nose to the grindstone for a goodish bit, and then maybe +master will take him on, under me, and I'll teach him to plough, and +have my eye upon him."</p> + +<p>With these words, Thomas swallowed the last morsel of bread-and-cheese, +and took up the pot of beer.</p> + +<p>"Here, mother, take your share; and don't fret about Tom—I'll soon +bring him in. Why, you've took no more than if you was a sparrer. Take +another drop. Ye won't? Well, here's your health, then. We can't waste +the good beer."</p> + +<p>He finished the beer slowly, the better to enjoy it, and then said in a +lower voice—</p> + +<p>"I think I'll have a look at Tom. If I find him awake and hungry, a +crust of bread won't set him up too much."</p> + +<p>He crossed the kitchen, and opened the door of the little room where +the boys slept. And finding Tom in bed and snoring, he never suspected +how nearly he had caught him wide awake and listening eagerly at the +keyhole.</p> + +<p>"He's asleep. He'll make up for it at breakfast, never fear," said +Thomas. "Sam isn't in bed."</p> + +<p>"No; he's not in yet. You go off to bed, and I'll wait for Sam. He +won't be long. Reg'lar as a clock, Sam is."</p> + +<p>"Jenny Waters is a lucky young maid," remarked Thomas.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adderley said nothing—privately she thought her Sam a great deal +too good for Jane Waters.</p> + +<p>In a very short time, the house was shut up and every one was asleep, +save Tom. He was hungry, and could not get to sleep, so he lay thinking.</p> + +<p>"Reg'lar as clockwork, Sam is! Of course he is! He's just such another +as father. It's my belief father wouldn't rise in life if he could. I'm +not so. I want to get rich and have a farm, like old Minchin—only never +will I be such a screw. And I want to see the world, and to have a +chance to be something but a ploughman or a carter, and I will too. Old +Dwight says if I had a few guineas, but I'd go if I had a few shillings +saved. And I'm to blow the bellows—work fit for a four-year-old—for +twopence a day, and I'm not to be let save! Well, I'm glad I know it's +a set plan, for, if not, I might have gone on from day to day till I +got to be as stupid as the rest of them. To work with Giles till the +conceit is taken out of me, and then to learn ploughing under father's +eye! Well, we'll see."</p> + +<p>He fell asleep at last. When he had eaten a most tremendous breakfast +next morning, he asked very innocently—</p> + +<p>"Am I to go to Master Minchin's, father?"</p> + +<p>Father, very naturally, improved the occasion.</p> + +<p>Tom listened dutifully. Having heard that he was to go to the forge, he +said not one word of remonstrance, but walked off, whistling. He was +always whistling or singing.</p> + +<p>Tom kept his place for about a week, and if Giles had cared to teach +him his craft, this story would probably never have been written. For +Tom took a fancy to the blacksmith's work, and longed to try his hand +at it. And one day Giles, coming in suddenly, found his own hopeful +son, a lazy young giant, blowing the bellows, and Tom Adderley working +manfully at a horse-shoe. Moreover, at a better shoe than young Giles +had yet made, though he was supposed to be learning. Giles dismissed +Tom that night.</p> + +<p>"Little Ben," he said, "is all right now, and you will easily get work. +I don't want you about the forge, mind. Don't be coming here after my +boys—I won't have it."</p> + +<p>Tom whistled, and walked home.</p> + +<p>"Father, Giles has dismissed me."</p> + +<p>"And why, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"'Cause I made a better horse-shoe than young Giles can, and he's +afraid I'll learn the trade and set up for myself."</p> + +<p>"The conceit of this boy!" cried Thomas Adderley, much moved. "I must +go to Giles and see what he says."</p> + +<p>"I don't know what he'll say, father, but I've told you the truth. I +went to work to-day while he was out—young Giles is lazy and was glad +to give up the hammer to me. Old Giles came in, and when he looked +at the shoe, and then at me, I guessed how 'twould be. Three days, +mother—there's sixpence."</p> + +<p>Adderley went to the forge. Giles told him that Tom was idle, and had +spoilt a horse-shoe, fiddling at it with the hammer, because his eye +was off him for a moment. He preferred having little Ben, who was quite +well again.</p> + +<p>"My boy says he made a good horse-shoe," said Adderley.</p> + +<p>"Judge for yourself; there 'tis," answered Giles.</p> + +<p>But he did not say that he had heated the shoe and beaten it out of +shape since Tom's departure.</p> + +<p>"Tom Adderley's too clever for me," Giles said to his wife that night. +"He'd be a better smith in six months than our boy will ever be; it +wouldn't do at all."</p> + +<p>Thomas Adderley went home, much grieved at this fresh instance of +Tom's conceit. He hated to do it, but Tom really wanted a flogging so +badly that he must have one; and he had one, and was sent off to bed +afterwards. It was by no means a severe beating, and Tom was none the +worse—except mentally. He had told the truth, and father would not +believe him. He would have liked to be a blacksmith, and Giles would +not let him. He had lost one place after another, and knew that it +would be very hard to get work.</p> + +<p>"I'll run away," muttered Tom. "I'll go to sea, and be a sailor, and +see the world. I've good brains and strong arms, and I won't stay here +to be treated like a baby. Let me see now; I must have 'some' money. +Maybe Master Dwight would lend me some. He has savings, I know. I'll +ask him, anyhow."</p> + +<p>Tom was sent, next day, to work in the garden, as his father had +nothing better to propose. He worked for an hour or so, and then jumped +over the fence into the Trayners' garden. Peeping in at the window, he +saw his friend Lucy alone in the kitchen, so he ran round to the door +and went in.</p> + +<p>"Lucy dear, if you hear that I've run away, don't you believe it—I +mean, I'm going to run away, but I'll surely come back. I can't stay +here, Lucy. I'll go, and I'll see the world, and get a lot of money, +and then I'll come home and buy a farm, and marry you, Lucy, for I'm +very fond of you. Don't you tell any one that I said a word to you, but +I couldn't go with saying good-bye."</p> + +<p>Lucy, a pretty, gentle girl, not burdened with more brains or more +learning than her neighbours, was terribly frightened. She was sure +he'd be caught and brought home, and beaten. She was sure he'd be lost, +and starved to death. She was sure he'd get to be a great man, and +forget every one at Burdeck, including herself. Tom combated all these +predictions one by one; to the last, his reply was perhaps more sincere +than gallant.</p> + +<p>"That's impossible," said he, "for though I might forget you, Lucy, and +every one else, I never could forget mother—nor father, though he did +not believe me. Well, good-bye, Lucy; you'll see me again one of these +days—maybe riding in my carriage, or on a fine horse. 'Then' you'll be +proud of me. Mind now, keep my secret."</p> + +<p>He ran off, leaving Lucy in tears.</p> + +<p>Tom found old Dwight in his usual summer retreat, a warm corner in his +son-in-law's garden. It is to be hoped that he had reflected duly on +his latter end, for he was certainly taking the little doze which he +had mentioned as being refreshing after that exercise. However, he woke +up, and said he was glad to see Tom.</p> + +<p>"I like you, Tom. You've got some brains, and you know the difference +between a man like me and these fellows, honest fellows all of 'em, but +that never saw the tenth milestone out o' Burdeck."</p> + +<p>"I 'do' know the difference," said Tom, eagerly, "and I've made up my +mind, Master Dwight, that I'll do as you did. I'll see the world. I'm +going to run away. I'll be a sailor, and I'll make my fortune. I know I +shan't do it all at once, but you'll see, I'll do it. And I want your +advice and help."</p> + +<p>"Seems to me," said old Dwight, "as you've pretty well made up your +mind without my advice."</p> + +<p>"Yes—to go. But tell me what you would advise me to do."</p> + +<p>"Go to Hull—there's your place. How to get there, you say. Well, go to +Wakefield—you know the road that leads to Wakefield. There's a coach +goes through Wakefield, and at the coach office they'll tell you how to +get to Hull. But let me tell you, my lad, you might do better than go +for a sailor."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but I must see the world!" cried Tom. "I'm that tired of +everything here that it's like a hunger in me—the wish to see the +world. And, Master Dwight, would you lend me money enough to pay the +coach, and just to live till I get to Hull?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's a very different matter," said Master Dwight, slowly. "Tom, +I don't see how I could do that. To give you money to run away—when +your father found it out, he'd have me in Wakefield Jail, he would. +It's against the law, my boy. That's the plain truth. Only for that, I +should be very glad to oblige you, and I think you're quite right to +go, but I can't break the law for you."</p> + +<p>It did not occur to Tom, at the moment, to doubt Master Dwight's +assertion about the law. He looked very downcast.</p> + +<p>"D'ye mind, my boy, what you told me once about your mother having some +money saved? You talk her over, and get her to give you a guinea or so. +If she lent you a good sum—say, 'ten' guineas for argument's sake—you'd +be able to set up in some small way o' business, and you're sharp +enough to make money, if you once had a decent start. Tell her it's +only a lend, and that you'll surely pay it back. You'll do well, Tom; +and when you're a rich man, you'll remember poor old Jeremiah Dwight +that taught you, and heartened you up, and helped you all he could."</p> + +<p>Master Dwight seemed quite affected, no doubt by his own generosity +with Mrs. Adderley's money. If you ask me why he encouraged Tom to +run away, I must confess that it was partly because he had so often +sneered at the Burdeck people for their contented stupid ways that he +felt ashamed to say a word against the result of his own words. Again, +he found Burdeck very dull, and the row that would ensue when Tom was +missed promised to be amusing.</p> + +<p>"Well," remarked Tom, after a short pause for reflection, "you'll keep +my secret, Master Dwight, though you can't help me? For I shall go, +even if I go with only this—" holding out twopence—"in my pocket. I +must run home now, or I may be missed. Good-bye, Master Dwight; I'm +thankful to you for all you've taught me."</p> + +<p>He ran off, and found that he had not been missed. For the rest of the +day he worked very hard in the little garden.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image010" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image010.jpg" alt="image010"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image011" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image011.jpg" alt="image011"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_3">CHAPTER III.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>TOM GOES TO SEA.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>ALL that afternoon, as Tom hoed and thinned the growing crops in the +tiny garden, he was thinking over his difficulties, and determining +upon his future course of action.</p> + +<p>Not determining to run away, that was already a settled thing. That +very night should see him on his way. But not to Hull. Reflecting +over what had passed between himself and old Dwight, Tom did not feel +satisfied with the conduct of that old humbug, and it struck him that +old Dwight would, perhaps, give his father a hint to search for him on +the Wakefield road, and might even mention Hull. Dwight had told him +that there was a great seaport town on "the other side," as Tom put +it, called Liverpool. It was further off, Dwight said, but even if he +walked the whole way, he would get there in time.</p> + +<p>To walk he had no objection, but then he had no idea how long it would +take to get there, and to depend on twopence-worth of bread was not +to be thought of. Money "must" be had somehow. If he asked mother to +lend it, she would not only refuse, but she would tell his father all +about it. This would put an end to the whole thing, he would be so +well watched. To tell mother was out of the question. But when she saw +him back again with a pocketful of money, and dressed like the sailor +in Master Dwight's song-book—a volume out of which the old man had +taught the boy many a song—in blue jacket, loose trousers, blue cap, +and a knife with a twisted string to it, then she would forgive him, +no matter how he got the money, particularly as he would restore it to +her, and as much again as—well, as she had lent him.</p> + +<p>To come back a sailor, with plenty of money and grand stories about +foreign countries, such as he had heard from Master Dwight, who, +however, had never seen foreign countries himself—this was the least +unlikely of Tom's visions concerning his future return home. To drive +up to his father's door in a grand coach with six horses and four +servants—such as Master Dwight had seen in London—to ask,—</p> + +<p>"Does Master Adderley live here?"</p> + +<p>And then, when father, mother, Sam, and little Dolly had all gazed with +respectful admiration at this wonderful apparition, to say,—</p> + +<p>"Don't you know me? I'm Tom; and, mother, here's your money, and a lot +more—"</p> + +<p>This also was among those foolish visions. And before you laugh at him +and say that no boy of fifteen could have been such a fool, remember +that Tom, though naturally a clever, active-minded fellow, was more +ignorant than any boy of fifteen in these days could well imagine. +The only school in Burdeck was kept by an old woman, who could read +(after a fashion), but who could not write at all. She kept the +smaller children out of their mothers' way for a couple of hours every +day; some of them learned their letters, some did not. Tom knew all +the letters, both capital and small, and that was literally all the +knowledge for which he was indebted to his school-days.</p> + +<p>Things that we learn so early in life that I think some of us forget +that we did not know them by nature—that England is an island, for +instance, and what an island is; that all the world does not speak the +same language; that in some places it is very hot, and in others very +cold;—of all these common facts Tom was utterly ignorant, and very +ignorant people are very childish in their ideas. So you need not laugh +at poor Tom, who had bright, quick-working brains, and nothing for them +to work on.</p> + +<p>Then, again, he had hardly any knowledge of religion. Things were in a +sad state in England then, and Burdeck, like many another place, had no +resident clergyman. The little old grey church was opened for service +every Sunday at four o'clock, a gentleman who had two other churches to +serve read the service and preached a short sermon. Mrs. Adderley was +a God-fearing woman, and lived up to her light—would that we all did +the same. She taught Tom that if he was good, he would go to heaven, if +bad, to hell; that it was wrong to lie or steal; and that he ought to +say "Our Father" every morning and every night—at night adding the old +lines about "Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John—" and she could teach him no +more, for she knew no more.</p> + +<p>Well, to go back to Tom. He did not say to himself, in so many words, +"This night I'll open mother's hiding-place and take some of her golden +guineas." But, for all that, he had the thought in his mind, and +planned everything carefully. When night came, and he had been informed +that Farmer Bell would give him a few days' work gathering stones off a +field (Tom felt quite insulted), the family went to bed, and every one +was soon asleep. Every one but Tom, and he was particularly wide awake.</p> + +<p>He waited a good long time. Comfortable snores resounded through the +house—Sam snored nearly as loudly as his father. Tom got up and dressed +himself, but did not put on his shoes. The moon was bright, and there +were neither shutters nor curtains to any of the windows, so that he +had plenty of light. He got out his small stock of clothing and made it +up into a neat bundle, which he tied up in a gay red handkerchief. Then +he ventured out into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>On the top shelf of the dresser stood an old, old pot—so old that no +tinker would attempt the mending of it. In the pot there was a box, in +the box a cunningly tied up parcel, in the parcel a smaller box, and in +that box were "mother's golden guineas." There was no lock on either +box, Mrs. Adderley trusting for safety to the exceeding ingenuity of +her hiding-place. A worn-out iron pot! Who would think of searching in +it for her golden guineas?</p> + +<p>Tom quietly and cautiously lifted a stout stool, placed it before the +dresser, and took down the pot. He descended carefully from the stool, +and placed the pot on the floor. Then he lifted off the lid. After a +pause, he removed the various coverings, until he came to the little +wooden box which formed as it were the kernel of this big nut.</p> + +<p>"One might do," thought Tom, looking at the bright coins, "but then I +should be ever so much longer about making my fortune. It's better to +take—half. Yes, I'll take half. No, I'll take all! Mother won't mind my +taking all a bit more than if I take only half. It's only borrowing, +and when I pay it back double, as I mean to do, she'd rather get twenty +than only ten. Yes, but I do wish I could let her know that it's only +borrowing. It can't be helped; she'll know when I come back."</p> + +<p>And Tom took the ten golden guineas; then suddenly put one back into +the box, muttering—</p> + +<p>"I'll never 'say' I did that. I'll call it ten all the same."</p> + +<p>Well, do you know, for some time Tom felt more surprised at his own +moderation in replacing one guinea than at his bad conduct in taking +the rest! Surely it is true that "the heart is deceitful."</p> + +<p>He replaced the packings exactly as he found them, tied the money into +the corner of his neck-kerchief and hid it in his bosom, lifted the +pot to the old place, replaced the stool by the fire, and crept back +into his bedroom. Sam still slept profoundly. This was lucky, as Tom +had determined to leave the house by the little window just over his +own bed, as the house door creaked so much that to open it might be +dangerous. It was a very small window, but to judge by the ease and +quickness with which Tom, having first tossed out his bundle, crept +through and closed it from the outside, one might have been led to +conclude that it was not the first time he had used it as a means of +leaving the house. And indeed he had found it handy, in the apple +season.</p> + +<p>In the morning, great was the commotion. Tom was gone; so were his +clothes. Adderley, poor dull good man, would never have remarked +the footprints under Tom's window, but Mrs. Adderley saw them. She +insisted on going to question old Dwight, who, however, gave her no +real help, for he remarked that no doubt the lad would make for Hull, +by Wakefield. Thomas Adderley lost a day's work by walking to Wakefield +to make inquiries. Tom had not gone by any coach; that, he thought, he +could feel sure of. And Mr. Trotter, the shopkeeper who bought Mrs. +Adderley's fruit and honey, promised to write to a cousin in Hull and +have inquiries made there. But, as we know, Tom had gone in quite the +other direction, and so, of course, nothing came of these efforts.</p> + +<p>If Thomas lost a day's work looking for Tom, his wife lost many a +night's sleep thinking of him. But she did not discover the loss of her +golden guineas for some time. She never dreamed that Tom would touch +them.</p> + +<p>If I were to recount all Tom's adventures on his journey, my space +would be full. So I must content myself with saying that he got on much +better than he deserved, and that he reached Liverpool safely. So far +was he from feeling sorry for his conduct, that he had never been so +happy in all his life. The world was so large, the people so amusing, +and every morning he was laying up knowledge and experience for future +use.</p> + +<p>His natural shrewdness enabled him to behave prudently, and he +was fortunate in falling in with honest people when he arrived in +Liverpool. He asked a man who was painting some shutters in a small +street to tell him where he could get decent lodgings, and the man +pointed out a respectable place. The woman who managed this house took +a fancy to Tom's handsome face, and had many a talk with him. Finding +that he wished to go to sea, she introduced him to her cousin Peter +Robins, a man who had been a sailor all his life. Robins took the lad +to his captain, and finally Tom was transformed into "ship's boy" on +board the "Star of the Sea," commanded by Captain George Collins, +belonging to the great firm of Parker and Co., and trading to the West +Indies.</p> + +<p>Tom was very fortunate in his captain; indeed, in everything he was +more fortunate than he knew himself at the time. Those were rough days; +and many terrible tales are told of the sufferings of ship's boys, and +even of full-grown sailors, whose captain chanced to be a bad, cruel +man. But Captain Collins was a good, even-tempered man, very particular +about his men, and very just in all his dealings with them. Some +merchant captains allowed their men to bring with them a few articles +to sell on their own account, at the various ports at which they +touched; and Captain Collins was one of these. Robins had made quite a +nice sum of money in this way; and when Tom confided to him that he had +a little money and wished to do the same, Robins gave him all the help +he could.</p> + +<p>Tom became the happy proprietor of a little box filled with goods of +the most tempting description. Very much surprised was Tom when Robins +laughed heartily at his desire to "have a few warm woollen things for +the winter."</p> + +<p>"There's no winter out there, Tom!"</p> + +<p>"No winter? Mr. Robins, you're laughing at me."</p> + +<p>"For all that, 'tis very true. It's never cold there, and those black +fellows cannot stand cold at all. Our cook died at Port Royal one +voyage, and the captain hired a free black man to fill his place, +promising to bring him back without charge next voyage. Well, he never +had to do that; poor Quashy—he had a name, but we called him Quashy—he +died a day or so after we landed. Just the cold—nothing else."</p> + +<p>"Did you say 'black' people?" said Tom. "Not really black, for sure?"</p> + +<p>"Black as my shoe; and they'll always buy crimson or yellow +handkerchiefs to wear on their heads."</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm longing to be there," said Tom. And he paid for his goods, +but carefully concealed the rest of his money. However, Robins must +have perceived that he had some money left, for he presently said—</p> + +<p>"Tom, you had no need to go to sea. Why are you going?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I want to see the world and make my fortune," replied Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, I've made up my mind to go on with Captain Collins till I have a +certain sum of money saved. Then I mean to buy a good boat—a Portsmouth +wherry, maybe—and—set up for myself. You'll be a smart sailor by that +time, Tom, and I like your looks. If you turn out as I expect, I'll +give you a chance of making a fortune as 'is' a fortune. Not only a few +guineas saved up, but—" and Robins made a gesture, flinging out both +arms to indicate the immense size of the fortune "he" meant to make.</p> + +<p>Tom thought Mr. Robins a very nice man.</p> + +<p>The "Star of the Sea" sailed the next day—one of a number of vessels +which were convoyed by three frigates and a few smaller armed ships. +Without such protection no ships ventured far out of port in those days +of war and plunder.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image012" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image012.jpg" alt="image012"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_4">CHAPTER IV.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>PRESSED.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>FOUR years have passed since Tom Adderley began his new career. He has +made four voyages with Captain Collins, and has risen from being ship's +boy to being coxswain of the captain's boat. This gave him plenty of +opportunities of landing and carrying on his own little trade; and Tom +had made thirty pounds, which he kept tied up in a little canvas bag. +He could pay his mother three times over, and she would be proud of her +sailor son.</p> + +<p>The Tom Adderley who was coming back to England with what seemed to +him a large sum of money, intending at last to visit his home and +repay the ten guineas (faithful to his resolution, he always thought +of them as ten) threefold, was a very different person from the slip +of a boy who had popped out so easily through the little window in his +father's cottage. He had grown a good deal, he was strong and brown +and sturdy, he walked with a little roll or swagger, call it which you +like, as sailors do; and he was more changed in mind and ideas than +in person. He could not read nor write, but he could keep accounts by +means of nicks in a stick, and never make a mistake in them. He had +learned to be a good sailor, for a merchant sailor; and he loved his +profession, and had not a wish beyond it. So that he was now as steady +and painstaking as he had once been idle and troublesome, he was well +thought of by others, and exceedingly well pleased with himself.</p> + +<p>As to being ashamed of having taken his mother's money, he was nothing +of the kind. The guineas had increased under his care. Whereas his +mother would probably have kept them locked up, laid up rather (Tom +laughed to himself as he remembered the old iron pot), idle and +useless, waiting for a "rainy day" that might never come. As to the +actual arrival of that rainy day, the idea never troubled his head. +Nothing ever happened in Burdeck, and nothing ever would happen. Father +and mother would live on, just as they had always lived, until he had +made enough to buy a farm and stock it. And for this, he would begin to +work and save as soon as he had been home and paid mother threefold.</p> + +<p>Yet Tom could remember the deaths of poor Harry Sands and his own +pretty sister Dolly. The remembrance might have been a warning to him, +but it was not.</p> + +<p>Tom was picturing to himself his return—his mother's delight, Sam's +half-envious admiration, his father's surprise—as he stood one day in +the top, holding lightly by the rigging, doing duty as "look-out man." +The merchant fleet, about forty ships of varying tonnage, some of them +carrying a couple of guns for self-defence, was sweeping along with a +favouring breeze; the four ships of war forming the convoy sailed two +on one side and two on the other of the fleet. They had had a splendid +voyage, and would, if the weather continued to favour them, soon see +England again. Some of them could have sailed much faster, had they +dared to leave the convoy, but this they could not do.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Tom's quick eye caught sight of an unexpected movement on +board the "Dauntless," the three-decker commanded by the senior captain +present. Presently up ran little coloured balls, which soon shook +themselves out into little flags. They were signalling, and not to the +fleet. Therefore Tom knew that the signals were intended to reach some +vessel seen from the tall mast of the great line-of-battle ship, but +not as yet visible to him.</p> + +<p>"'Dauntless' signalling!" he called out.</p> + +<p>And Mr. Boland, first mate, after a look through his glass, sent for +the captain.</p> + +<p>Tom saw that the captain was uneasy. Something seemed to worry him a +good deal.</p> + +<p>Presently Tom called again, "A sail!"</p> + +<p>"Where away?" called Captain Collins.</p> + +<p>"Coming up with 'Dauntless.' Starboard quarter, sir. 'Dauntless' +signalling!"</p> + +<p>The captain raised his long glasses, looked steadily, and then grunted +as if vexed. "Orders to lay to," said he; "and that means that the +stranger is a Frenchman, and that there are others at her heels. I +thought we were getting off without a fight this time."</p> + +<p>He then gave the necessary orders, and in ten minutes every ship had +furled sails and lay as nearly motionless as could be managed.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand this," Captain Collins presently remarked, "The +ships are not getting ready for action; they are remaining in their +stations. Aloft there! Any more sail?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, none."</p> + +<p>"I don't like this; I don't like it at all," muttered Captain Collins.</p> + +<p>Meantime the stranger had overtaken the "Dauntless," and a boat was +seen to leave her and row towards the big ship. The new-comer was a +frigate, and Captain Collins pronounced her English.</p> + +<p>"Oh, then we're all right, sir," said Boland.</p> + +<p>"I hope so," replied the more experienced captain.</p> + +<p>Presently Tom gave notice that several boats were leaving the +"Dauntless." Captain Collins stood watching them as they swept over +the frisky little waves, steadily impelled by the skilful arms of +men-o'-war's men. The boats separated, each going towards one of the +merchant ships. The boat from the stranger steered straight for the +"Star of the Sea."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Captain Collins; "I thought so! Robins, go aloft and send +Adderley down. You're safe; you're too old for them, if they can get +younger. Adderley, go below and stay there, if you're let. Brown, Carr, +Jones, and Seacombe, you go too. I must not overdo it; the rest must +remain and take their chance."</p> + +<p>The wary captain, shrewdly suspecting the errand on which the boat +came, had now sent the pick of his crew below. One of these men +enlightened Tom.</p> + +<p>"It's a press-gang, that's what 'tis. Yon frigate has lost some men, +and some of us will have to go."</p> + +<p>"Oh," cried young Carr, "and me that is to be married the week after I +get home. Poor Kitty, she has waited for me so faithful. Look ye, boys; +I'll hide here behind this barrel, and maybe they won't see me."</p> + +<p>"Whatever you do," said Seacombe, the eldest among them, "make no sort +o' resistance if you're took. For there's captains in the navy that +would flog ye for it at once."</p> + +<p>Tom felt very angry. He could hear, when this conversation ceased, +what was going on, on deck, and he stood listening with a miserable +conviction in his heart that he would be one of those selected.</p> + +<p>He heard the boat touch the ship's side. The next sounds proved that +several men had boarded the "Star."</p> + +<p>"Captain George Collins, I suppose?" said the young officer in command.</p> + +<p>"At your service," replied Captain Collins in a somewhat sulky voice.</p> + +<p>"I am Lieutenant Carteret, of his Majesty's ship 'Imogene.' We've been +in action and lost some of our men. We cannot leave the station, and we +cannot be short-handed. Captain Egerton regrets very much being obliged +to take such a step, but we must ask you to give us three men. Captain +Strayn, of the 'Dauntless,' says you can spare three. We mean to take +some from several ships, so as not to distress any."</p> + +<p>"What must be, must," said Captain Collins, "and I won't deny there's +justice in it. You defend us, and—My men, you heard what this gentleman +said?"</p> + +<p>"Will any of you volunteer?" said Mr. Carteret, who liked his present +duty as little as did Captain Collins.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I may as well go willing," said that sly old fox, Robins, +knowing very well that the officer would take younger men.</p> + +<p>"No one else volunteers? Well, then, I must choose. But first, Mr. +Collins, do I see all your crew?"</p> + +<p>"Are ye all on deck, boys?" inquired Collins.</p> + +<p>"We're here," answered several voices. But Mr. Carteret, after looking +at the men for a moment, said to a little pink-and-white midshipman who +stood by his side—</p> + +<p>"Mr. Egerton, take two men and go below. Bring up any men you find +there."</p> + +<p>Mr. Egerton, aged twelve, thought it all great fun. He ran gleefully +down the ladder, and presently the sound of a scuffle was heard.</p> + +<p>At a word from Mr. Carteret, three more sailors went below, and very +soon the five young men were brought on deck, Dick Carr in custody, as +he had resisted when dragged out of his hiding-place.</p> + +<p>"Five skulkers, Mr. Carteret; and this fellow resisted."</p> + +<p>"Ah, well, we'll overlook that. Let him go, Collier. These are the men +for us. I'll take you—" pointing at Tom—"and you—" Dick Carr—"and you—" +the last being Jones. "Now, my lads, I'm sorry this duty fell to me, +for I hate having to do it. But I must do my duty, and you must submit. +You'll find yourselves better off in many ways than you are here; +plenty of fighting—every Englishman likes that—plenty of prize-money, +and a very comfortable ship. If I give you five minutes to get your +kits, will you keep faith with me, and give me no further trouble?"</p> + +<p>Tom stepped forward and said, "Captain Collins, must we go?"</p> + +<p>"No help for it, Adderley. Go below and get your kit."</p> + +<p>Tom lingered for a moment, but catching little Egerton grinning at him, +he walked off in sulky silence. Carr followed him. In a few minutes +they all reappeared, each man carrying a bundle. Tom had his precious +canvas bag tied up in his bundle, for as a sailor from the stranger's +boat had gone below with the "Star's" men, apparently to keep an eye on +them, Tom had not cared to be seen concealing it about his person.</p> + +<p>Captain Collins shook hands with each man as he went over the side. +Carr asked him to give a message to his Kitty, and Jones gave him some +money to carry to his old mother. Tom for a moment thought of doing +the same. He knew that Captain Collins would spare no trouble about +it. But then, how terribly the honour and glory of his return would be +impaired—to go home with no store of golden guineas, and causing no +surprise in Burdeck! No, a year or two could make no real difference to +mother, so he merely shook hands and went over the side.</p> + +<p>As Mr. Carteret was about to follow, Robins came up to him. "What about +me, sir? I volunteered."</p> + +<p>"I have a great mind to take you, you old humbug!" said the young +officer, laughing.</p> + +<p>The men laughed too—all except the three pressed men. And Robins +retreated very hastily.</p> + +<p>As they rowed to the frigate, Dick Carr, who was sitting beside Tom, +suddenly cried out, "I can't bear it, and I won't. Good-bye, Tom." And, +quick as light, he flung himself overboard.</p> + +<p>Tom grasped at him as he sprang, caught him by the leg, and held on. +Help was promptly given, and Carr was dragged into the boat again, and +handcuffed, but the plunge seemed to have brought him to his senses, +for he sat quite quiet. Tom now stooped to pick up his precious bundle, +which he had dropped at his feet when he saw what Carr was about. It +was gone!</p> + +<p>"My kit—my money!" he cried.</p> + +<p>"Your kit!" said Mr. Carteret. "What is the matter about it?"</p> + +<p>"It is gone!" said Tom.</p> + +<p>"It went overboard in the scuffle, sir," said one of the rowers. +"Summat heavy it seemed, too, for it went down like lead."</p> + +<p>"Are you 'sure' it went overboard?" cried Tom despairingly.</p> + +<p>"Never mind, my man," Mr. Carteret said kindly. "We'll rig you out on +board the 'Imogene.'"</p> + +<p>"But maybe you took it," Tom said to the rower who had spoken. "You're +the man that followed me below, and maybe you saw—"</p> + +<p>"Keep a civil tongue in your head, youngster," said the man, "or you'll +find the mess a little too hot for you. 'I' take your kit, forsooth! A +lubberly merchant sailor!"</p> + +<p>Tom sank down, utterly wretched. What followed, he did not know. When +he recovered himself a little, he was one of a long row of men, all +like himself taken from the merchant ships, and now standing before +a naval officer in the undress uniform of a post captain. A man of +middle height, with dark hair, grizzled here and there, and very curly; +handsome clear features, bronzed by many a burning sun, and strangely +light grey eyes.</p> + +<p>He looked at his new men kindly and gravely, and after a few minutes +spoke to them.</p> + +<p>"My lieutenants have done well; you are all fine fellows, and look +sailor-like and ship-shape. Nov, my lads, listen to me for a moment. +Necessity knows no law, and this was a plain case of necessity. I could +not leave the station; no ship on the station could spare me a single +man, and I can't have the old 'Imogene' short-handed, and see her towed +into a French port some fine day. I'm sorry for you, lads, and yet I'm +a little ashamed of you, too. Ashamed to find that Englishmen pull a +long face over having to serve their king and their country, to do +which is the bounden duty of every able-bodied man in times like these. +You'll live, I hope, to be proud of being king's men. And I'll see that +you have fair play, and share and share alike with the rest, of work +and of play, of grog and of prize-money, and—what some of you will +think best of all—the chances of winning honour and glory for your king +and Old England. Come now, three cheers for the king—King George and +Old England! And if you do your duty by me, you shall find that I'll do +mine by you."</p> + +<p>Three cheers, tolerably hearty ones, were raised. The little mite of a +middy who had been with Mr. Carteret was standing close to the captain, +whose son he was.</p> + +<p>"That fellow did not cheer," said he, pointing at Tom, "all because he +lost his kit!"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Egerton, go below," said the captain, shortly enough. "When you +are a little older and a little wiser, you will know that sometimes it +is well to be blind and deaf."</p> + +<p>Little Mr. Egerton coloured all over his pretty little impudent face, +and made off as fast as he could go.</p> + +<p>"What is your name?" Captain Egerton asked of Tom.</p> + +<p>"Adderley—Tom Adderley."</p> + +<p>"Say 'sir;' we must have no merchant ship manners here. Touch your cap +and say 'sir.' You lost your hit in saving this half-drowned lad here?"</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton waited. Something in his cool, quiet eyes made Tom's +hand find its way to his cap, and forced him to add "sir," after a very +perceptible pause.</p> + +<p>"Well, go to the purser and tell him to rig you out comfortably. You +look a sailor, every inch of you, but don't ruin your chances by +showing temper.—You are Richard Carr, I think?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir."</p> + +<p>"If I overlook your silly conduct in the boat, will you promise better +behaviour for the future? I can make allowance for the surprise."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I won't do the like no more."</p> + +<p>"That's right. Now go below and get dry."</p> + +<p>The captain turned away, and as soon as he was out of hearing, Tom +Adderley uttered a few words in a low, hissing tone—if his good mother +could have seen his face and heard those words, she would have cried +out in fear and amazement. An old sailor who stood near turned round +and said gently—</p> + +<p>"Don't thee use words like that, my lad. It's clear against the law of +God and the rules of the service. Come along, both of ye, and I'll show +you where to go. You'll like the life after a bit. I wouldn't change, +not to be a bishop!"</p> + +<p>Now, Gideon Terlizzeck was a fine-looking old salt, and a very good +man, but he was not exactly one's idea of a bishop, as he stood before +the two young men, hitching up his trousers and shaking his head +amiably at them, so that his stiff pigtail flew about, describing a +half-circle in the air. Many sailors of the Royal Navy still wore +pigtails, and Gideon had a splendid one—long and thick and nearly +white. Tom did not know what a bishop was, and replied roughly—</p> + +<p>"What's that to me? I say it's a shame, a cruel shame; it's unjust—it's +not to be put up with. I'll never do a stroke of work aboard this +prison of a frigate."</p> + +<p>"My lad," said old Terlizzeck, after a glance all round, "be you +thankful as none heard that but me. You've served aboard a trader all +your life, but maybe you know what I mean when I makes mention of the +boatswain's mate and the cat?"</p> + +<p>Tom started. "Let me see the man that will lay a hand on me!" said he, +with a flash in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"There's three hundred odd on board this here frigate would do it as +soon as look at you, if the captain gave the word. Now, don't you +be a fool, my lad. I'm sorry, for you—you seem to have some private +reason for being angry, but you'll only knock your own head against a +bulkhead, if you set yourself against discipline."</p> + +<p>Tom was silent, but his heart was very full, more of anger than of +sorrow.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image013" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image013.jpg" alt="image013"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image014" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image014.jpg" alt="image014"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_5">CHAPTER V.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>OLD GIDEON.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>TOM Adderley, for the first time in his life, had been forced to do +what he did not like. One way or another, he had generally had his own +way at home, and since he had gone to sea, all things had prospered +with him. All through his last voyage he had been looking forward to +his visit to Burdeck; wondering if Sam had married Jane Waters that +he was so sweet on; if little Dolly promised to be as pretty as her +poor mother; if old Dwight were still alive; if father would heartily +sanction his going to sea again (which he quite meant to do, anyhow); +above all, if mother would throw her arms round his neck, kiss his +brown face, and be proud of her sailor. Nay, he had even sent an +occasional thought in the direction of Lucy Trayner. Lucy must be quite +a woman now—would she have forgotten him? Ah, well! He would soon know. +And by thus thinking of home, he had begun to feel more real love for +his people than he had ever felt before; and added to this was the +pride of showing them how he had succeeded in life—how he could pay +thirty guineas for ten, and yet still have enough in hand to replenish +the box for his next voyage.</p> + +<p>And they had been so nearly home, too. And no one had a right to make +a man-o'-war's man of him against his will. So, being thoroughly out +of temper and disgusted with his lot, Tom vowed that the king should +have a bad bargain of him; he would be as useless, troublesome, and +disobedient as he could be, without actually getting punished.</p> + +<p>Well! He kept his word. No one knew what a smart sailor he really was, +and no one would have found it out from his proceedings now. He obeyed +orders, of course—he must indeed have been a reckless man who had +disobeyed orders on board a king's ship in those days, or, for that +matter, should try it in these, though flogging is no longer the order +of the day. But he did everything badly and slowly, and in a slovenly +way, causing Mr. Carteret to regret that he had been taken in by the +fellow's good looks, and Mr. Duncan, first lieutenant, to remark that +merchant captains seldom trained smart sailors.</p> + +<p>"That fellow hasn't sense enough to coil a rope," one sailor said to +another, while watching Tom at work one day.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean Tom Adderley?" cried Dick Carr, standing near. "Why, he's +the best sailor, all round, that ever I saw."</p> + +<p>"Oh, very like, but you're another of the same kidney," was the reply.</p> + +<p>"Carr's not a bad man," said Gideon Terlizzeck.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't hold a candle to Tom," replied Carr, laughing.</p> + +<p>"Did well enough aboard the 'Lively Polly,' or whatsoever you called +your old tub," said the first speaker. "But here, aboard the old +'Imogene,' he ain't up to the mark, that's plain."</p> + +<p>Old Gideon walked away and stood thinking—about Tom.</p> + +<p>"'Twould be a Christian deed to bring that poor lad to a better mind," +said he to himself, "before he makes himself a bad name and gets +punished, 'and' takes to drink, as lads do sometimes when they're +crossed in love or the like."</p> + +<p>So Gideon watched for an opportunity, and soon found one. Being on deck +one afternoon, he saw Tom, who was one of the men on duty, standing +alone, leaning over the taffrail, staring down into the water. Going +to his side, Gideon pulled out a couple of pieces of tobacco, and +said—just to start a conversation—</p> + +<p>"We can't smoke here, Tom, but do you chew? Hev a bit, if so."</p> + +<p>"I don't chew, nor yet smoke," Tom answered ungraciously.</p> + +<p>"I smoke, but I allow it's wasteful," answered Gideon. "Still, I don't +mind. A man must have some little comforts, and I have none depending +on me."</p> + +<p>Tom remained silent, keeping his shoulder turned to the speaker so as +to hide his face.</p> + +<p>"When I were a youngster, Tom Adderley," said the old man, approaching +his subject in what he considered a most diplomatic and delicate +way, "it befell me, as it do befall a many, for to fall in love. And +although it came to nothing, seeing the lass took up with a soldier +while I were at sea, and I found her a married woman and the mother +of three when I got back, still it caused me a deal o' thought—an +uneasiness, a pining in myself for some one that I could talk to about +her. Ay, in all the troubles of life, a friend is a help and a comfort. +You go with me so far?"</p> + +<p>"Oh yes," said Tom, carelessly.</p> + +<p>"And you're in trouble. And why I don't know, but you don't seem to +take overmuch to your old messmates, Carr and Jones. So it did seem to +me as you might find a relief in talking to one as has known trouble +and knows the way out of it."</p> + +<p>"There's no way out of mine," replied Tom.</p> + +<p>"Is it a love affair, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"Not it! I leave that balderdash to Dick Carr. No—and you can do +nothing for me, though I believe you mean kindly. I'd rather be left +alone."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I must. But, Tom, I do truly know a cure for all troubles. If +it's not love, Tom—Have you a mother at home?"</p> + +<p>The question was unexpected, and Tom was young and unhappy. He stood +quite still, with his back to Gideon, but his eyes filled, and a +strangled sob presently escaped him.</p> + +<p>"Can't ye let me alone?" he growled. "See now, you've made a baby of +me—me, that's been a sailor these four years! Yes, I have a mother, as +good a mother as ever lived; and I was going home to her, when—Well, +never mind."</p> + +<p>And Tom rubbed his eyes, and then put his hands into his pockets and +began whistling.</p> + +<p>Gideon listened to the clear, sweet sounds, and said when they ceased—</p> + +<p>"You've a sweet pipe, Tom; for all the world like a thrush. There was +one used to sing in an old elder-bush just over my mother's cottage, +away in Devonshire; and I do seem to hear that bird now, along o' you."</p> + +<p>"There was thrushes in Burdeck, too," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Where's Burdeck? 'Your' place, I suppose. Is it in Cornwall?"</p> + +<p>"I—don't rightly know," answered Tom. "It's ten days from Liverpool, +but maybe I didn't go the shortest way."</p> + +<p>"Liverpool! Oh, I've been there," said Gideon. "Your ship belonged +there, I suppose?"</p> + +<p>"She does. She's there by this, and—Ah, well, never mind."</p> + +<p>"Four year at sea, and never saw your mother! It's hard to bear. But +we'll be going home—Plymouth, most like—and then you can work your +passage round to Liverpool, make sail for Burdeck, and—Eh, what's that +you say?"</p> + +<p>"That I'll never go now."</p> + +<p>Gideon stared. "Why so, mate?" said he.</p> + +<p>Tom put his arms on the top rail of the taffrail, and laid his head +down on them.</p> + +<p>"No use going now. I had my earnings, my savings—thirty golden +guineas!—to take to her; now they're at the bottom of the sea, they +tell me. No use going home now."</p> + +<p>"Why, lad, you said your mother were a good woman!"</p> + +<p>"Just as good a woman as ever lived," Tom replied.</p> + +<p>"And yet you think she'd fail to welcome her son, because he brought +her no money? Well, I wouldn't expect that, even of a bad mother. +Mostly, they do love their sons."</p> + +<p>"You don't understand," muttered Tom.</p> + +<p>"I understand this much, Tom. When I went home from my first voyage, +my mother—she's in heaven these thirty years—just catched me in her +two arms and cried hearty. And 'twas not till next day that I so much +as gave a thought to the handful of money I had for her. And, you may +believe me, 'twould be the same with your mother."</p> + +<p>"No, no; you don't know. Did your mother give consent to your being a +sailor?"</p> + +<p>"'Course she did. Father had been a sailor, my brothers were sailors; +it runs in the family," said Gideon.</p> + +<p>"But—mine didn't; nor yet father. We're inland folks. I ran away—if you +must know."</p> + +<p>"And I'm sorry to know it, Tom. And so you worked and saved, thinking +to buy forgiveness? Oh, boy, it's never to be bought; you'd get it +free! Listen to this here."</p> + +<p>He pulled out a small and shabby Bible.</p> + +<p>"What! Can you read?" said Tom, full of admiration.</p> + +<p>"A little, when I know what's coming. Luke fifteen—that's the place." +And, without further preface, he read the parable of the Prodigal Son.</p> + +<p>But it had by no means the effect he expected. Tom listened +attentively, but his face grew red and his eyes full of scorn.</p> + +<p>"And do ye think I'm going to do like he—a fellow as wasted his money, +and lived like a pig? I never did the like. No; till I can take mother +her golden guineas, I won't go anigh her. And since I lost them, I keep +thinking, thinking, she may be wanting them."</p> + +<p>"She lent you money, then? I thought you ran away?"</p> + +<p>"So I did. I—borrowed ten guineas she had saved. She lent Sam—that's my +brother—five or six to buy a horse and cart, and he paid her back. She +would have lent it to me, willing, for anything of that kind, but not +for going to sea to seek my fortune, because that's a thing our folk +don't understand. So I saved and worked for to pay her threefold, and I +had it—thirty golden guineas—in a canvas bag; and it was lost with my +kit when that everlasting booby, Dick Carr, wanted to drown himself, +and I wish I'd let him do it. My kit went in the kick-up—and that's all +about it."</p> + +<p>Gideon looked at him sadly.</p> + +<p>"Tom Adderley," said he, "I seem to see that you stole that money from +your mother?"</p> + +<p>"I did 'not!' I borrowed it—without leave."</p> + +<p>"Which is just stealing," said the old man. "And you thinking yourself +better than the son in the parable, who only spent what was his own!"</p> + +<p>"Wasted it shameful," said Tom, "and I never wasted a penny. Kept it +all for mother. And now they tell me the mermaids has it. And never +will Burdeck see me any more. 'I'll' never go home, snivelling to be +forgiven."</p> + +<p>"Truly then, Tom, you do need forgiveness as sorely as he, or any man, +ever did! And till you give up your wicked pride, and confess that +you've sinned, you're in a very bad way, Tom. And I'll pray for you, my +lad, for I misdoubt you don't pray for yourself."</p> + +<p>"No," said Tom. "I used to, but I've forgotten how. It don't matter. +Praying won't give me back my gold."</p> + +<p>"No, perhaps not, but it may make you content to lose it," said Gideon.</p> + +<p>"All hands to shorten sail!" sang out Mr. Carteret at this moment.</p> + +<p>And Tom, excited by this long talk, forgot to crawl unwillingly up the +rigging, and to handle the ropes as if they burnt his fingers. He was +one of the first on the yard, and did his work in splendid style, until +he saw Carr nudge one of the men and point at him. He relapsed into +stupidity and laziness at once.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Carteret, watching the men at their work, could not fail to +perceive this little incident, and from that time Tom had really a +hard life of it. Of course, he deserved it. I am not defending him. +What Captain Egerton had said was perfectly true; every man is bound +to defend his country and to obey his king, and this was what Tom +was asked to do. But he was very ignorant, and the loss of his money +embittered him. Without being actually insubordinate or impertinent, he +was a most troublesome, uncomfortable sort of sailor.</p> + +<p>Gideon Terlizzeck alone seemed inclined to befriend him, and for this +Tom was really grateful, though he never showed it. Gideon insisted +upon reading the Bible to him, and more than once asked him to join him +in prayer. But Tom kept up a sulky, distant air, and only seemed to +listen because he could not well help it.</p> + +<p>But in his own mind, he wondered why a man like Gideon, a favourite +both with officers and men, should take so much trouble about a sulky +cub like himself. Tom used those very words—"a sulky cub;" he chose to +appear like a sulky cub, and no one could deny that he succeeded to +perfection.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image015" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image015.jpg" alt="image015"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image016" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image016.jpg" alt="image016"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_6">CHAPTER VI.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE ARTICLES OF WAR.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>OLD Gideon Terlizzeck, as the men all called him, was not really an +old man; he did not know his age exactly himself, so that I cannot +be expected to do so. There could hardly be a more striking evidence +than that afforded by his life, of what the grace of God can do for +us, even in very adverse circumstances. His mother had been one of the +earliest followers of John Wesley, when he preached in the fields near +her native place, which was in Cornwall. She married young, and was +early left a widow. She brought up her boys most carefully, and with +wonderful success—they all turned out well. If in many respects she was +but an ignorant woman, no wiser than others, she had the best learning +and the highest wisdom—she could read her Bible, and she loved it; she +could pray, and prayer brought her wisdom.</p> + +<p>You will find plenty of people in these days to tell you that the +Bible can teach you nothing, and that prayer is a superstitious waste +of time. But you will generally find that these are people who do not +read the Bible, and who do not pray. Those who do will tell you a very +different story. And surely common sense teaches us that these last +must know more about it than the others. Of religion only, among all +the studies pursued by man, does the world believe that those who have +only an outside acquaintance with it are better judges of the truth or +falsehood of its assertions, than those who know it well and love it +better than their lives.</p> + +<p>Well, to return to Gideon's mother. Her husband was a Plymouth man and +a sailor, and her sons were all sailors. As Gideon said, it ran in the +family. They were all dead now, except Gideon, who had been the eldest. +He had gone to sea as a boy, and had served afloat, with intervals of a +month or two, ever since. He had seen much hard fighting, had endured +much hardship; he had witnessed much sin, and heard much swearing and +bad language. Yet now, with his hair white, and his strength beginning +to be touched by the hand of age, Gideon had still the child's heart, +the child's faith, and the child's hope, with which he had left his +mother's cottage. I know he called himself a grievous sinner; that is +one of the contradictions of which outsiders can make nothing. But +though human, and therefore, of course, often going wrong, he was, +like the prophet Samuel, one who, having been given to God by a pious +mother, walked with God all the days of his life.</p> + +<p>Gideon was a shy man, and very humble. He was no great talker when the +men were all together, though to one companion he would talk freely. +The men liked him—he was always so kind and helpful; to be in trouble +was to have Gideon's hand held out to help you. They respected him; +his presence restrained the worst of them in the use of bad language, +and on Sundays they would often let him read the Bible to them. The +"Imogene" being a frigate, did not carry a chaplain, but the captain +read the Church service to the men every Sunday. It was the first time +that Tom had ever been brought into contact with religion since he left +his mother, and he was interested and impressed, in spite of himself. +But he did not show it in any way, and Gideon, who had taken a fancy to +him, was quite distressed about him.</p> + +<p>Tom's discontent was not lessened when he discovered that the "Imogene" +had only just come to the station, so that, for three or four years at +the least, he would be kept out of England. Though he said he would not +go home, yet now that he certainly 'could' not go, he longed to hear +something of his people.</p> + +<p>The "Imogene" was one of the small fleet employed in defending +England's West Indian possessions against being surprised by the +French, with whom, at that time, we were at war. Formerly the French +had made constant attempts at these surprises, but since the great +battle of Trafalgar, France had not so many ships to send to distant +stations, and encounters between our ships and those of France were +less frequent. Still, an occasional cruiser would appear, and it was in +a very tough encounter with a French frigate that Captain Egerton had +lost so many men that he had to take some from the merchant ships.</p> + +<p>Of course, a good look-out was of the utmost importance. And when Tom +had been some time on board, the look-out man, from some unaccountable +carelessness, allowed a ship to come near enough to be seen by those on +deck, before he gave notice of her approach.</p> + +<p>She proved to be English, but this did not alter the fact that a grave +offence had been committed; and the man who had offended was condemned +to be flogged, according to the Articles of War in that case made and +provided.</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton seldom flogged, but in this case he thought it +necessary. People in those days did not think of such things as we do, +but Tom had never seen a man flogged, and the sight made a terrible +impression upon him.</p> + +<p>All hands were piped on deck; the Article of War dealing with the +offence was read aloud by the captain, who looked very stern in his +cocked hat, and then John Callcutt, able seaman, received four dozen +lashes, and, if the truth must be told, did not think half as much of +it as we are apt to fancy. But Tom was like one in a frenzy. He was +faint and sick, angry and frightened, and, in fact, did not know what +he was about. Gideon, with Dick Carr's assistance, hustled him away and +took him below. Carr returned on deck, but Gideon stayed with Tom, and +tried to calm him.</p> + +<p>"Why, Tom," said he, "what a fellow you are! Here's a pother about a +four dozen, well deserved, as we must all own! Why, if you'd served +with Sir Lucas Cochrane as I did, you'd have seen six, ay, and seven +dozen, given for half that. He'd flog a man for being last up the +rigging! Ah, he were a bad-tempered man, but a grand officer. Now, our +captain never is severe; and you'll see Callcutt about again in a week +or so, not a hair the worse."</p> + +<p>"Were you ever flogged?" asked Tom, looking up with white face and +gleaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"N—no, Tom, I can't say I ever was. I've been always very fortunate; +and as to you, it's all in your own hands. You do your duty, and you +and the cat will never come together."</p> + +<p>"Now, look here," said Tom. "John Callcutt shipped with Captain Egerton +of his own free will, and has been a man-o'-war's man all his life, so +that he knew what lay before him. Equally, so did you. Maybe you like +being treated like slaves or dumb beasts, but I was never asked my +consent to being here. And I just tell you, what is no more than the +truth, that if the like is ever done to me, I'll end my life the very +first time I get the chance. I'll manage better than Dick Carr did, +too. Do you think that I'm going back to my people, to tell them I was +flogged like a hound? Never! I mean what I say, and—"</p> + +<p>"Tom, be quiet; not so loud. No one's going to flog you unless 'you' go +and deserve it."</p> + +<p>"Deserve it! How can I deserve it, for not keeping rules I never +promised to keep? You drag me away from my ship and my captain; you +read me a lot of rules and laws that I know nothing about; I'm robbed +of my hard-earned money, and—"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense, Tom. My lad, you're off your head. Your money went to the +bottom, as you yourself told me."</p> + +<p>"I told you they all said so. But it's my belief that they grabbed it +while I was laying hold of Carr."</p> + +<p>"You're beside yourself. Tom, be quiet; here's an officer."</p> + +<p>Gideon stood up; Tom jumped up too.</p> + +<p>"The captain wants to know what is wrong with Adderley," said Mr. +Carteret.</p> + +<p>"First punishment he ever saw, sir; that's all," answered Gideon.</p> + +<p>"Ay? Mr. Egerton fainted; so, you see, you're not the only one. I hope +you're all right again, Adderley?"</p> + +<p>"Yes—sir."</p> + +<p>"What were you saying about being robbed, as I came in?"</p> + +<p>"Nothing, sir," said Tom, sullenly.</p> + +<p>"That's no answer; I heard you plainly. It is the first that has been +heard of it. Were you robbed?"</p> + +<p>"Greg Collier saw the kit go overboard," remarked Gideon.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Carteret waited for Tom to reply, and he had to speak at last.</p> + +<p>"I had my money in my kit, sir—a good deal of money—and when Carr +jumped overboard and I caught hold of him, my kit disappeared. I +dropped it at my feet as Carr passed me, and I don't see how it got +overboard."</p> + +<p>"Terlizzeck, were you with me? I forget."</p> + +<p>"No, sir. But Greg Collier sat on the next bench, and he saw the kit go +overboard."</p> + +<p>"What made it go? No one had any call to touch it," said Tom, doggedly.</p> + +<p>"Why did you not speak of this at once?" inquired Mr. Carteret.</p> + +<p>"Because I knew 'twould be no use; they'd all stick together."</p> + +<p>"The captain must be told of this," said Mr. Carteret.</p> + +<p>And the captain was told, and inquired carefully into the matter. +Three of the best men in the ship deposed to having seen the bundle go +overboard and sink at once, and one said that Carr had kicked it as he +made his spring. There was no reason to doubt this testimony, and all +that Tom gained by his foolish suspicions was the dislike of Collier +and of some others, and a good deal of joking about his "fine fortune +that was in Davy Jones's locker."</p> + +<p>All this combined to make Tom more miserable every day, until at last +he was really in a very desperate humour; and just at this time the +ship touched at Jamaica.</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton found it necessary to get water, and as the beef and +biscuits were getting low, he determined to make for Port Royal, as +there he was sure of getting what he wanted.</p> + +<p>Often had Tom been in Port Royal before; many a bright kerchief and gay +ribbon had he sold there to black damsels, who used to declare that +"Massa Add'ley had de lubly taste!"</p> + +<p>The "Imogene" was detained for several days, getting in water and +shipping stores, but at last she was ready to sail. Tom was one +of several who went ashore on the morning of the last day, on the +understanding that they would be ready when the boat came up for them +in the afternoon. Captain Egerton wished to get them all on board +early, as he meant to sail in the morning.</p> + +<p>But when the midshipman in command counted his passengers, one was +missing. And when he had called over the names, that one proved to be +Tom Adderley. Gideon, who had been sent to ensure the discretion and +safety of the mid, advised his commanding officer to wait a while. But +Tom did not come, and a gun from the frigate warned them that they +were delaying too long. It was very unwillingly, and with a foreboding +heart, that Gideon heard the orders given, though he knew that there +was no help for it.</p> + +<p>All that night he kept hoping that the morning would see Tom alongside +in a shore-boat, for then, of course, he would escape with a severe +reprimand—what Gideon called "a proper wigging."</p> + +<p>But the morning came, and Tom did not. Captain Egerton was not going to +delay on account of the loss of Tom's not very valuable services. He +communicated the fact that one of his men was "absent without leave" to +the proper authorities, and sailed a little after daybreak.</p> + +<p>This was just what Master Tom wished and expected. He was hidden in +the house of an old negro, who was also an old acquaintance of his. He +meant to discard his sailor dress and lie quiet until Captain Collins +came into port. Then he would get on board the old "Star of the Sea," +and be happy again.</p> + +<p>Of course Captain Collins would have had nothing to say to him; +equally, of course, he would have been arrested the first time he +ventured out. But, as it happened, he never had time to experience +these disappointments.</p> + +<p>The "Imogene" met a French privateer before she was quite out of sight +of Port Royal, took her, and came back into port with her, Captain +Egerton not caring to spare men and officers to form a prize crew. Mr. +Carteret, with a number of the "Imogene's" men, had just marched the +few prisoners to the barracks, when Greg Collier caught sight of old +Agamemnon, the negro, peeping nervously round a corner. Collier laid +hold of him and took him to Mr. Carteret.</p> + +<p>"This here knows where Adderley is, I'm pretty certain, sir. I've seen +them discoursin' each other. Scouting round the corner, he were; and +frightened out of his wits, as all may see!"</p> + +<p>"Do you know where Thomas Adderley, able seaman, belonging to his +Majesty's ship 'Imogene,' is hiding?" said Mr. Carteret, blandly.</p> + +<p>But Agamemnon shook and shivered, and turned from black to a livid +grey, so certain did he feel that this gentleness covered fearful +designs. Still, Tom had been kind to him; and the poor old fellow was +divided between fear for himself and a desire to save Tom. So, not +being particular as to truth, he replied—</p> + +<p>"Hidin'! Oh no, capta'n, not hidin'. Sick! Oh, he were berry sick—sick +'nuff to die nearly! When de ship sailed he were lyin' dar, most dead."</p> + +<p>"Drunk, I suppose?" said Mr. Carteret.</p> + +<p>Agamemnon rolled his eyes in a way which might mean yes or no, just as +you liked to take it.</p> + +<p>"Show me where he is!" Mr. Carteret went on.</p> + +<p>And poor Agamemnon, all unworthy to bear the name of the "king of men," +obeyed very meekly, so that in a few minutes, Tom was in custody, +and was marched down to the landing-place, and conveyed on board the +'Imogene.' He was put in irons, and kept in strict confinement; and it +is easy to imagine that he was very miserable. Now that he had tried +and failed, he saw plainly enough the utter folly of his attempt to +escape. Gideon's warnings came back to him; his entreaties that Tom +would submit to what 'must' be, and try to do his duty in his new +position. Now, too, that to see it was of no use to him, he saw that he +had been leniently treated—that his officers had been very patient with +him; and always he saw before him the punishment he had brought upon +himself. Oh, if only he could begin again, and be once more the newly +pressed man, how differently he would behave!</p> + +<p>Even the loss of his money seemed nothing to him now; he felt that he +had lost everything that made life worth having. It seemed to him that +the only thing to be done was to get rid of his wretched life as soon +as he could. I do not know that he would have kept to this resolution, +but these were his thoughts as he sat there, alone, in his terrible +misery. What! Go home, not only penniless, but disgraced? Go home +to see his father ashamed of him, and his mother trying to keep his +disgrace a secret? Never! He would die twenty times over, sooner than +do that. Why, even to face the men of the "Imogene" after they had been +witnesses of his degradation, was more than his proud heart could bear!</p> + +<p>There he sat, poor Tom! almost in the dark, with heavy irons on his +ankles, his face hidden in his hands. And all the time his imprisonment +lasted, he never once looked up when any one spoke to him, or when his +meals were brought to him, but just sat without a sound or a movement, +and with black despair in his heart.</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image017" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image017.jpg" alt="image017"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_7">CHAPTER VII.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>"THREE CHEERS FOR CAPTAIN EGERTON!"</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"IF you please, Captain Egerton, may I say a few words to you, +private?" said Gideon Terlizzeck to the captain, who was standing by +the side, gazing down into the dark blue water.</p> + +<p>The "Imogene" was at sea again.</p> + +<p>"Eh, Terlizzeck? Yes, of course. Here—or will you come to my cabin?"</p> + +<p>"I'll come to your cabin by-and-by, sir, if I may."</p> + +<p>"No time like the present, Gideon. We'll go there now."</p> + +<p>The captain led the way and Gideon followed, both silent. But Gideon's +lips were moving, and if his captain did not hear his voice, it was +heard by Him to whom the old man spoke.</p> + +<p>The captain laid aside his sword and cap and seated himself.</p> + +<p>"There's a chair close to you, Gideon," said he. "Well, old friend, +what do you want?"</p> + +<p>Gideon did not sit down. He had taken off his straw hat, and now stood +passing it absently round and round in his hands. At last he said—</p> + +<p>"I don't think, sir, that I'm over-doing of it when I say that what I +want you to give me is a life—and a soul."</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, Gideon?"</p> + +<p>"That there unfortunate boy, Tom Adderley, sir."</p> + +<p>"Why, surely you know that his life is in no danger?"</p> + +<p>"Not in the way you mean, sir. But if I may be so bold as speak out, +sir, I think I can show you that what I said is true."</p> + +<p>"Speak out, Gideon. I have known you all my life; you've sailed with +me four times, and I rather think I owed you my life in that brush +with the Malay pirates when I was a lieutenant. I know what a good old +fellow you are, and I'm quite ready to listen to whatever you have to +say. But I am rather surprised to find you interested in this young +Adderley."</p> + +<p>"Well, I am, sir. The boy has good in him, and he's been unfort'nate. +Just let me tell you his story, sir. He comes from a place some days' +journey inland from Liverpool; and being set on, seems to me, by an old +man as lived there, to want to see the world and make a fortune, Tom +ran off and shipped on that there merchant ship."</p> + +<p>With this beginning Gideon told the tale of Tom's saving, and its +object; his determination after four years of sailoring to go home, +and his misery when he was not only prevented doing so, but lost his +precious hoard. Very simply, but not unskilfully, was the story told.</p> + +<p>"Now, sir, I took to the lad from the first; seemed to me he wanted a +friend so bad. And I've talked to Carr and the other fellows that know +him, and I find he was held to be the best and smartest man, all round, +on board of that there trader, and Carr's a good man himself and knows +what he is talking of. And—you'll acknowledge this, captain—the lad got +hard lines."</p> + +<p>"Very unlucky his losing that money—very."</p> + +<p>"And being pressed, captain? You know I love the service, but I came of +my own free will."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come, Gideon," said the captain, laughing; "I can't allow that, +you know. We 'must' get men."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but one willing man is worth ten pressed men. And, captain, if +you'd be so good as overlook this—this—folly of poor young Tom's, +it's a willing man I do believe you might make of he. He's far from a +bad lad. If you'd jaw him a bit, and get his promise to do better if +you let him off; I'll be his surety he'll keep his word. And if Tom +Adderley's flogged, sir, there's an end of he. He won't be alive in +a month; he won't, indeed. If you'd 'a seen and heard him the time +Callcutt was punished! Why, he were mad for a bit, and said plain and +out that he'd never outlive such disgrace. He's proud, poor fellow, +and—oh, sir, I do beseech you, spare him if you can."</p> + +<p>"But how can I, Gideon? The fellow hides and lets us sail without him, +and from what I can hear he was quite sober, and fully meant to escape +altogether. Think of the example. You know I am not inclined to punish +severely, but I really think Adderley must be made an example of. I'll +give him only two dozen?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, sir, one dozen would be as bad as six. It's the disgrace. There's +some that never seem to think about it; there's some it kills, or +drives to death, anyhow. I saw that long ago, before you entered the +service, sir. 'Twas a man from my own place, and he were above the +common, being one as had some education. Sir, he drowned himself, +though we was watching him because we didn't like his looks. And this +boy is such another for pride; and he's not twenty yet, and has a +mother at home!"</p> + +<p>"I don't see that I can do it, Terlizzeck."</p> + +<p>"Sir, the old nigger that showed where he was hid told Mr. Carteret +that when Tom stayed ashore the night before, it was because he was too +ill to stir. Now, if you had him up private, and gave him a wigging, +and then offered him another chance, why, Tom isn't likely to talk +about it all, and the story that he was ill would come for to be +believed."</p> + +<p>"'You' don't believe it, Gideon?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir, I'm sorry to say, I do not. But if you saw him, sir, sitting +there silent—hardly eats a bit and never speaks—if he isn't ill, he's +in a fair way to be. I do believe he were mad to try such a fool's +trick, and that he's mad with himself now for having done it."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence; then Gideon spoke again.</p> + +<p>"Captain Egerton, I'm sorry I said that. You've the right to judge, +sir, whether you can overlook his fault or not, and I know that the +good of one lad must give way to the good of the ship's company and +the service. Besides, if it's right to do it, it won't need hiding. +Moreover, that wasn't an upright notion of mine, and I'm ashamed of +it. But, captain, I've served man and boy, forty-seven years and three +months, and did never ask a favour before that I can call to mind, +beyond a day's leave at times; and my heart is wonderful set on Tom +Adderley."</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton got up, and walked up and down the very limited space +at his command, once or twice. Then, sitting down again, he said—</p> + +<p>"Terlizzeck, I will not refuse your request. I wish it to be known that +Adderley is spared because you interceded for him. I fear I shall more +than ever get the credit in the service of being too lenient, but I'll +risk that, as you think it may be the saving of this young fellow. +You'll keep an eye on him, Gideon."</p> + +<p>"Sir, I do truly not know how to thank you!"</p> + +<p>"If the lad turns out well, it is I that shall have to thank you. Just +pass the word for the prisoner to be brought here, will you? And say to +knock off the irons."</p> + +<p>Gideon went and gave the necessary orders, and in about ten minutes the +door was again opened, and Tom Adderley, being shoved into the cabin, +stood where his guard left him, apparently not seeing where he was.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image018" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image018.jpg" alt="image018"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>TOM STARTED, AND CRIED OUT HURRIEDLY,</b><br> +<b>"AM I TO BE FLOGGED?"</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"You may go, my men. Leave Adderley here."</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton looked at the prisoner for a few moments without +speaking. Poor Tom! It was hard to believe just now that he had ever +been a bright, active, intelligent sailor. His curly hair was all +matted over his forehead; his face was deadly white, with a dull look +of despair in it; his eyes were dazzled by the sudden light, so that he +could scarcely open them.</p> + +<p>"Adderley," began the captain.</p> + +<p>Tom started, and cried out hurriedly, "Am I to be flogged?"</p> + +<p>"What do you expect?" asked the captain.</p> + +<p>Tom's head sank upon his breast.</p> + +<p>"It don't matter what I expect," he said. "They'll never hear of it at +home."</p> + +<p>"Adderley, Gideon Terlizzeck has been speaking to me for you. Now, if +I were to offer you another chance, will you promise me solemnly to +behave so well that I may feel justified in having spared you?"</p> + +<p>"I don't understand," said Tom, looking up.</p> + +<p>"If I forgive you, and let you go back to duty, will you for the future +do your best, and work willingly and well?"</p> + +<p>"Forgive me? Do you mean that you won't flog me?"</p> + +<p>"I do. At Gideon's earnest request, I have promised to overlook this +offence. He answers for you, that for the future you will do better."</p> + +<p>Tom staggered back, and, but for coming against the cabin door, would +have fallen. His chest heaved; he covered his face with his hands and +stood silent for a few moments. Then his arms fell; he straightened +himself, and looked full in his captain's face.</p> + +<p>"If ever I can die for you, or for Gideon, I'll do it, willing and +free. It's not the pain—I'm not afraid of that—it's the shame of it. +Yes, sir; I'll do my very best from this hour."</p> + +<p>"Very good, Adderley. Take him with you, Terlizzeck. I'll give orders +about him. Now, mind, Adderley; no more sulking."</p> + +<p>"Never no more, sir," said Tom, half crying. "Oh, Gideon, you've saved +my life."</p> + +<p>From that hour, the only trouble with Tom Adderley was a fear that in +his new-born zeal he would get himself killed by some too venturesome +proceeding. As to the way in which his eyes followed the captain's +movements, and the frequency of his "Yes, sir," even to the smallest +mid, these were only to be equalled by his patience in listening to +Gideon's reading, and to the rather long-winded and misty homilies +the dear old man preached for his benefit. These poor Tom only dimly +understood, but there was nothing he would not have done to please +Gideon.</p> + +<p>And he was surprised to find how much happier he was, too. He was busy, +and every one was pleased with him. This was pleasanter than sulking +and idling. Then, too, he felt the warmest gratitude to both Gideon +and Captain Egerton. And, fallen as man is, there is this much of the +original "Image" left in him—he is happier when his good feelings are +called into play, than when his poor dark heart is full of hatred.</p> + +<p>One day, about a fortnight or three weeks after Tom's release, the +look-out man proclaimed that he saw a sail. Great was the excitement. +Was it a Frenchman? But it proved to be a little English brig. "The +wickedest little gun-brig in the service, and the sauciest," as old +Gideon said, when she came near enough to be recognized—the "Warspite," +commanded by a young lieutenant named Yeo, who signalled that he wanted +to come on board and speak to Captain Egerton.</p> + +<p>A little boat was soon spinning over the water, and Mr. Yeo came on +board. He sprang up the side followed by a very small midshipman, who, +with a somewhat older youth, represented Mr. Yeo's "officers."</p> + +<p>"Look," whispered Gideon to Tom, "how Mr. Carteret and Mr. Bullen do +gaze at Mr. Yeo."</p> + +<p>"So I see. But why? Seems to me he's only a lieutenant, too."</p> + +<p>"But has a separate command, Tom, and he only five and twenty. Nephew, +he is, to our admiral. Our two junior lieutenants would give ten years +to stand in his shoes. What's that? What are they cheering for?"</p> + +<p>Gideon was cleaning the captain's fowling-piece, and did not like to +leave it.</p> + +<p>"I'll go forward and see," said Tom.</p> + +<p>He came back with Greg Collier and a lot more of the men in a few +minutes.</p> + +<p>"Gideon, there's great news," said he.</p> + +<p>"Eh, old Gid! What d'ye think? But we're at war with America!" cried +Collier. "Think of 'that' for impudence, and she without a big ship +belonging to her!"</p> + +<p>"Well, well," said Gideon, "I be sorry. They can fight, I can tell you +that; ay, as dogged as we can. And it do not seem Christian-like to +kill and slay men as speaks English like ourselves."</p> + +<p>"I don't know about that," said Collier. "But you're not the old Gid +Terlizzeck if you don't feel your anger rise at the next bit of news. +What do you think? But a Yankee frigate attacked the old 'Corinna,' +thirty-four guns, Captain Harry Hervey—just let 'em know they was at +war, and then went bang at her; ay, and towed her into New York after +a blazin' fight. Captain badly wounded and a prisoner—he's out of the +way. Then Admiral Sir George Kinnaird is dead—yellow Jack it was—and +Captain Egerton, of this here blessed old 'Imogene,' is senior officer +on the station, till a new admiral comes out."</p> + +<p>"You don't say so, Collier!" cried Gideon. "Why, it's a great change +for our captain. You do take my breath away."</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for Captain Egerton!" shouted Tom, flinging his hat +into the air with such good will that it went overboard, and probably +disagreed terribly with the fishes.</p> + +<p>But the men took up the cheers, and they were really hearty ones; and +of all the spirit-stirring sounds that ever you will hear, three cheers +coming from the hearts of a set of British sailors is the most stirring.</p> + +<p>"We've not heard all the news yet," said Collier. "There's more to +tell, or I'm a Dutchman."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said another man, "Mr. Yeo, he told all that, for all to hear. +And then he says, says he, 'What more I have to say is for your private +ear, Captain Egerton.' And so they went to the captain's cabin."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image019" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image019.jpg" alt="image019"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image020" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image020.jpg" alt="image020"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_8">CHAPTER VIII.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>A "CUTTING-OUT" EXPEDITION.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>YOU may be sure that both officers and men kept a bright look-out for +the opening of the door of the captain's cabin. It was surprising how +many of the officers found themselves on deck, though it was a broiling +day, and they would have been cooler in the wardroom. Little Charlie +Egerton, the youngest midshipman, so far forgot himself as to presume +upon being the captain's son, and went to the door, knocking timidly. +But he probably heard something not pleasant to his feelings, for he +ran away with more haste than dignity.</p> + +<p>Presently Mr. Duncan, first lieutenant (and in those days a frigate +carried no commander, so that the "first luff" was second in command), +was sent for, which greatly increased the excitement on board.</p> + +<p>After some time, Mr. Duncan and Mr. Yeo came on deck together. Mr. +Duncan briefly gave the order, "Pipe the side," and while Mr. Yeo's +boat was being brought into position, these two talked together very +earnestly.</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton came on deck before Mr. Yeo departed. He looked about +for a moment, and then said—</p> + +<p>"We shall have to beat up against the wind the whole way. The 'Imogene' +is pretty lively, so I dare say we shall keep together easily. +Good-bye, Yeo; we shall have fine weather, I think."</p> + +<p>"I think so, sir; good-bye."</p> + +<p>And with a last shake hands, Mr. Yeo was gone.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Duncan, I wish the men to come aft. I want to speak to them."</p> + +<p>Mr. Duncan passed the order on to the boatswain, "All hands aft, Mr. +Kenyon."</p> + +<p>And in no time, so eager were they, every man not actually busy was +ready for the captain's speech.</p> + +<p>Mr. Duncan, who knew all about it, went and took the place of the man +at the wheel—one of those small acts of good fellowship by which the +English naval officer makes his men ready to follow him anywhere.</p> + +<p>"My men," said the captain, "the 'Warspite' has brought us great +news—some of it sad enough. The United States have declared war; rather +unexpectedly, for it was supposed that we had arranged that difficulty. +The American frigate 'Ontario' met, fought, and captured our frigate +the 'Corinna.' Admiral Kinnaird has died of yellow fever. Thus the two +officers senior to me on this station are removed, and the command is +in my hands for the present. But I cannot rejoice in this, for Admiral +Kinnaird is a terrible loss to the service, and Captain Hervey, of the +'Corinna,' is one of my dearest friends, and they say he is wounded.</p> + +<p>"It becomes our duty, of course, to fight the Yankees wherever we can +find them, and Mr. Yeo has brought me intelligence on which I mean to +act. He had an encounter with an American brigantine two days ago, when +they pounded at each other for some hours, until night overtook them. +The brigantine was getting the worst of it, and she made off during the +night. Mr. Yeo, after some searching, found that she had slipped into +a certain creek on the north side of the little French island of S. +Grégoire. She is larger and carries more men than the 'Warspite,' and +there was the chance that the French officer in the fort might be able +to send some men to help her. So Mr. Yeo thought it imprudent to follow +her in, but knowing that we were not far off, he came down here in the +hope of meeting us. And I have determined to attempt the capture of the +brigantine; if possible, to surprise her and cut her out."</p> + +<p>Tremendous cheering.</p> + +<p>"What's cutting-out?" asked Tom, as soon as Gideon could hear him.</p> + +<p>"I'll explain by-and-by. Hark, what more?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to ask for volunteers," said the captain. "Mr. Duncan will +command—"</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for Mr. Duncan!" roared some one.</p> + +<p>More cheering.</p> + +<p>"He'll command. There will be our pinnace, yawl, and gig, and Mr. Yeo's +gig—I want sixty men."</p> + +<p>Sixty! He might have had every man there. But as all could not go, the +captain proceeded to make his selection. And, to the unbounded pride +and delight of Tom Adderley, he was chosen as one of the sixty.</p> + +<p>After a while, Gideon and he being again together, Tom asked him for +the promised explanation of the mysteries of "cutting-out."</p> + +<p>"You get to know," said Gideon, "that the enemy is lying in some +harbour or creek, as this here brigantine is said to do. You get as +near as may be after dark. You send your boats, full of well-armed +men—picked men—it's a thing for you to be proud of, Tom. Quiet—no +noise, no cheering—you rows up alongside that ship, and you boards +her. Then, mostly, there's a scrimmage, even if they don't see you and +begin before you get alongside—though once I helped to cut out a small +privateer, and every soul on board was asleep, and showed no fight at +all. You beats them, claps them under hatches, let the anchor slip, and +h'istes sail and away."</p> + +<p>"What fun!" cried Tom, his eyes brightening.</p> + +<p>Gideon looked approvingly at him.</p> + +<p>"You're a chip of the old block," said he. "No fear but there'll be +plenty of sailors, even when me and my mates are gone."</p> + +<p>The love of fighting is, I think, one of the strangest things in our +strange nature. Here was Tom, hitherto a youth of peaceful pursuits, +and a particularly good-tempered one. Yet he no sooner hears that he +is going to have a chance of being knocked on the head, than he is in +such a state of delight and impatience that every hour seems four times +as long as usual. And here is good, kind-hearted old Gideon, highly +pleased to see his dear Tom in such a courageous frame of mind! Men are +certainly very strange creatures.</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton kept the "Imogene" beating up to the north-west all +that day. Late in the evening she had got as far in that direction as +he thought necessary, and now ran gaily before the wind for the tiny +French island of S. Grégoire. The "Warspite" was not far off. Darkness +fell just as they sighted the island, which was defended by a small +fort on the south side, where there was a little harbour. The creek +into which the American ship had crept, was not known to be fortified +or defended in any way.</p> + +<p>By nine o'clock the boats were ready. Every man had his cutlass, +pistol, and knife, and the rowers were armed as well as the others. The +"Warspite's" boats were with them, Mr. Yeo in command. Captain Egerton +stood looking at his men as they went over the side one by one, saying +a few words of encouragement and caution.</p> + +<p>The oars were all muffled—a device quite new to Tom. His heart was +beating wildly with excitement when his turn came to pass the captain. +But he paused, for little Charlie Egerton had rushed up to his father +in excitement even greater than Tom's.</p> + +<p>"Father, Geering has fallen and hurt himself; the surgeon is with him +now. I've got my dirk and my pistols; I can go at once. Let me go! Oh, +do let me go instead of Geering."</p> + +<p>Geering, the somewhat older mid, who was to have gone, had, indeed, +contrived in his hurry to get a very bad fall, and could by no means +go. Captain Egerton looked at his son. The words in his heart were, +"What will his mother say to me?" The words on his lips were, "Off with +you, then. Now, remember, my lads, no noise, and—and good-bye, Charlie."</p> + +<p>Charlie tumbled into Mr. Duncan's boat as fast as he could. Tom looked +in the captain's set, stern face, and said, half ashamed of himself—</p> + +<p>"I'll be there, sir."</p> + +<p>The captain gave him a quick glance and nodded. Tom took his place +in the boat, almost wishing that he might be killed in saving Mr. +Midshipman Egerton for his father's sake.</p> + +<p>Away over the dark water, with here and there a strange light shining +on the surface, some phosphorescent appearance with which they were +quite familiar, but it has an eerie look to those who see it for the +first time. They soon lost sight of the ships; then they were near +enough to see the land by the soft starlight. The creek had a narrow +mouth, and there was a tiny basin, and then a sudden turn to the west; +the boats could only enter one by one. Not a word was spoken—there +was no noise to betray them; three boats had entered by the narrow +passage, when suddenly a blaze of light burst upon them. On the flat +rock, on one side of the passage, a flame shot right up to the sky, +and at the same moment a little battery, which must have been built +quite recently, opened a brisk fire on the leading boat. This was the +pinnace, and in it were Mr. Duncan, little Egerton, and Tom Adderley.</p> + +<p>A yell burst from the sailors; the boat's advance was checked, for +several of her rowers were killed or wounded. Mr. Duncan had fallen, +and lay senseless in the bottom of the boat. The next boat nearly +ran the pinnace down before it could be checked. The confusion was +frightful. Mr. Yeo, who was in the third boat, was luckily a cool, +clear-headed man. He took in the situation at a glance, called to his +men to follow him, ran his boat close to the rocks, and landed. In five +minutes he had driven the handful of Frenchmen out of the battery.</p> + +<p>Young Egerton, gazing round, hardly knowing what had happened, heard an +old sailor say in a low voice—</p> + +<p>"Give the order to put back, Mr. Egerton. It's all up; we can do naught +to-night."</p> + +<p>The fair little face flushed. The boy looked at Mr. Duncan, and +realized what had happened.</p> + +<p>"I'm in command of this boat," said he. "Give way, my men; we'll do it +yet."</p> + +<p>But, very fortunately, poor Mr. Duncan had begun to come to his senses, +and heard these words. He stretched out his hand and caught hold of the +boy.</p> + +<p>"No, Egerton, no. We must run for it."</p> + +<p>All this passed very quickly, far more quickly than it can be told. +None of the other boats had suffered as much as the pinnace, though +when the "Warspites" came tumbling back into their boat, they had +several wounded among them. Some unhurt men took the place of the +rowers who could do no more, and Mr. Yeo gave his orders with perfect +coolness. Poor Mr. Duncan had fainted again. The confusion was over; +one by one the boats made for the passage, but as each boat reached it, +a fire of musketry was opened on them from both sides.</p> + +<p>The "Imogene's" pinnace was the last but one to pass through (Mr. Yeo, +of course, remained to the last), and in the narrowest part of the +passage, little Egerton, who had been bending over Mr. Duncan, suddenly +raised himself, gave a faint cry, and fell into the water. And Tom +Adderley was after him before the gleam of the fatal fire, which still +blazed high, had ceased to glint on the boy's golden hair.</p> + +<p>The last boat was close behind; there was no possibility of pausing, +even for a moment.</p> + +<p>Presently a rocket shot up from the "Imogene" to guide them; for, +of course, the light had made Captain Egerton aware that there was +something wrong.</p> + +<p>When the pinnace lay alongside, Captain Egerton was there, giving +his orders as quietly as if his heart had been at rest, instead of +torn with cruel anxiety for his boy. Mr. Duncan was got up the side, +and carried to his cabin; the other wounded were all brought up as +carefully as possible. Then those who were unhurt began to follow, but +the brave fellows came slowly, and not one of them could look at the +captain.</p> + +<p>"Is that all?" he said, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Captain, 'twere in the narrow place; 'twere a musket-shot did it."</p> + +<p>The speaker, a big strong man, was crying like a child.</p> + +<p>"Is—he—in the boat?" said the captain.</p> + +<p>"No, sir. He fell overboard; and some one jumped after him, but I could +not see who 'twas."</p> + +<p>"'Twould be my poor Tom," said old Gideon. "Well, he did right."</p> + +<p>"Mr. Egerton never blenched, sir. When the fire began, and Mr. Duncan +fell, he took command of the boat as if he'd been a man grown, as +bright and as cool."</p> + +<p>Here the man broke off with a sudden shout—</p> + +<p>"Hullo! Look at that!"</p> + +<p>The "Warspite's" boat had come alongside during this conversation, and +at this moment a small figure rushed into Captain Egerton's arms.</p> + +<p>"Father, I'm safe!"</p> + +<p>"My boy!"</p> + +<p>For a few moments, I do not think there was a dry eye among the +onlookers. Then the captain, making a tremendous effort to recover +himself, set the boy on his feet, and said, in a voice that 'would' not +be steady—</p> + +<p>"Not wounded, Mr. Egerton?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir. I don't know yet why I fell into the water."</p> + +<p>But he knew presently, when he found his watch perfectly ruined, with a +bullet well embedded in its works!</p> + +<p>"How were you saved?"</p> + +<p>"Some one caught hold of me, and the 'Warspite's' boat picked us both +up. Here he is. I haven't seen his face yet."</p> + +<p>It was a very red face, but it was the face of Tom Adderley. Captain +Egerton shook hands with him then and there, and broke down in trying +to thank him. Then Mr. Yeo came on board, and he, with the captain and +Mr. Carteret, retired for a consultation. Gideon bore Tom off. It would +be hard to say which of them was the happier at that moment.</p> + +<p>It is not to be supposed that British sailors were going to put up +with a rebuff like this! Next day, as many men as could be safely +spared entered that creek in broad daylight, under Captain Egerton's +command. They landed, routed the small force of men armed with muskets, +who proved to be sailors from the brigantine, carried the battery, +spiked the guns, and blew up the place. They took the brigantine, and, +being fairly started on a career of conquest, they dashed across the +little island to the fort, carried it by storm, and made the garrison +prisoners. It was a very small fort, and the garrison consisted of +forty half-starved looking Frenchmen, with two or three elderly +officers, who swore such strange oaths that it was as well that there +were few who understood them. Thus S. Grégoire became a part of the +British empire.</p> + +<p>N.B.*—Do not look for S. Grégoire on the map. But much of what this +chapter contains really occurred.</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<br> +* [N.B.—nota bene]<br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image021" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image021.jpg" alt="image021"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image022" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image022.jpg" alt="image022"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_9">CHAPTER IX.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>PAID OFF.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>SPACE, or rather the want of it, forbids me to give you any more of +Tom's adventures in the West Indies. Suffice it to say that he laid +up materials enough for the entertainment of Burdeck for many years, +should he ever return there to tell his story.</p> + +<p>And to return no longer seemed impossible to him. He had redeemed +his character, and had begun to understand his position and to love +his profession. He knew now that he would receive all arrears of pay +and a good little sum of prize-money when the "Imogene" went out of +commission. You see, Tom still loved to lay by his money for his +mother, but when Captain Egerton wanted to make him a handsome present +for his good service to his son, Tom refused to receive it.</p> + +<p>"Let me do it for nothin' but—because I owe you more than my life, +sir," he said.</p> + +<p>At last three years had passed away since the day when Tom became +one of the "Imogene's" crew, and the "Imogene" was on her way home. +Captain Egerton had, of course, long since handed over the command of +the station to an admiral, and since that time the frigate had been in +action several times. Once, indeed, she had been all but captured by +two American frigates, and was only saved by a sudden storm, in which +Captain Egerton, by his splendid seamanship, escaped from both the +enemy's ships. Generally, the "Imogene" was successful, but she had +been a good deal knocked about, and repairs were absolutely necessary. +For these repairs she was going home, and it seemed likely that she +would be paid off. For, in the interval, peace had been made with the +United States, and Napoleon had been conquered and sent to Elba, so +that for the future it would not be necessary to keep so many ships in +commission.</p> + +<p>They were nearly at home. They had met with rough weather, and had been +forced out of their intended course, so that they were very near the +coast of France, though they did not actually enter the Bay of Biscay.</p> + +<p>Tom was on duty as look-out man, and Gideon Terlizzeck had joined him +in his airy quarters, just for the pleasure of being with him. Gideon +had become very fond of Tom, and Tom returned his affection.</p> + +<p>"A sail!" shouted Tom.</p> + +<p>And when he had answered all the questions of the officer on duty as to +the whereabouts of the said sail, Gideon said—</p> + +<p>"See what 'tis to have young eyes! 'I' see no sail yet. Ah, well, it do +not matter now, as it would have mattered last year, when she might be +an American or a Frenchman, layin' wait for us here."</p> + +<p>Presently the ship Tom has espied afar off came much nearer. Captain +Egerton came on deck with his telescope, and he looked at the stranger, +whose movements puzzled him. Why was she bearing down upon him in +this way? Had England been still at war, he would have understood the +matter perfectly. But the war was over. However, the ship, a great +three-decker, kept on her course, and Captain Egerton wondered more +and more. When, to complete his amazement, she fired a shot across the +"Imogene's" bows, and at the same time ran up the imperial colours of +France.</p> + +<p>"What on earth does the fellow mean?" cried Captain Egerton, angrily.</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid there's something wrong that we haven't heard of," said Mr. +Duncan, anxiously. "Can that fiend have escaped and taken the field +again? I always said we ought to have shot him!"</p> + +<p>Captain Egerton laughed, for he had argued that question with Mr. +Duncan many and many a time.</p> + +<p>"Shorten sail, Duncan; we'll stand off and on a bit. She's lowering +a boat, so we shall know all about it soon. Carteret, you understand +French—don't let them board us; just find out what they are at."</p> + +<p>The boat drew near. A French officer stood up and made a polite bow, +begging to know what ship this was.</p> + +<p>"'Imogene,' Captain Egerton," Mr. Carteret replied. Then in French, +"What do you mean by flying the imperial flag?"</p> + +<p>"His Imperial Majesty the Emperor Napoleon has returned to France," +was the reply. "This is the 'Monarque,' 130 guns. May I hope that your +captain will see the necessity of surrendering to such superior force, +thereby sparing useless bloodshed?"</p> + +<p>The force was even more superior than the speaker supposed it to be. +For the "Imogene" was known to be in a bad way, for want of a thorough +overhauling, one of her masts was spliced, and she was somewhat +short-handed, several of her men having consented to be transferred to +other ships when she was ordered home. For all that, there was but one +opinion on board the "Imogene."</p> + +<p>"Surrender," said Captain Egerton, quietly, "without a gun fired? +What does the fellow take us for? Send him about his business, +Carteret.—Duncan, beat to quarters."</p> + +<p>The Frenchman made a flourishing bow, and said, "Au revoir," which +meant, "You will all be prisoners on board the 'Monarque' by-and-by, if +we don't sink you."</p> + +<p>But the "Imogene's" drums were beating to quarters before his fine bow +was quite finished.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to send a shot after that fellow," growled Mr. Carteret.</p> + +<p>All was now activity on board the "Imogene;" activity, but not +confusion. It is in a case of this kind that one sees what discipline +is worth. Every man knew exactly what he had to do, and did it. Cheer +after cheer was heard as the men ran to their stations.</p> + +<p>"Duncan," said Captain Egerton, "if we get her broadside, we are done +for. We'll board her, now—at once. Get the boarders ready as fast as +you can. I'll lay her alongside, yardarm to yardarm; we have the wind, +and we'll carry her before she has well gone to quarters. There, that's +her drum now."</p> + +<p>"Who shall lead the boarders?" said Mr. Duncan.</p> + +<p>"You," said the captain. "Shake hands, Duncan. God bless you!"</p> + +<p>Well, if those Frenchmen never knew before what British sailors can do +and will do, they found it out that day. Before the last tap of the +"Monarque's" drums, beating to quarters, had ceased to echo "'tween +decks;" before the men were all in their stations, the little "Imogene" +was upon them.</p> + +<p>"Boarders, away!"</p> + +<p>To his dying day, Tom was proud to say, "And I was one of them."</p> + +<p>Tom had seen a good deal of fighting, but such a fight as this never +before. The Frenchmen, surprised as they were, fought like brave +men—fought desperately and furiously. The Englishmen fought as if each +had at least six lives, and was prepared to lose them all. To be made +prisoners almost in sight of home? Never!</p> + +<p>The "Monarque" fired one broadside, but the greater number of her guns +were too high above the "Imogene" to injure her, and the frigate's fire +silenced the lower deck. After a fearful struggle, the upper deck was +cleared and the Frenchmen driven below. Charlie Egerton pulled down the +imperial flag, and this practically ended the fight. The French captain +lay dead upon his own deck, and in neither ship was there an officer +unwounded. Mr. Duncan was hurt, but not very seriously; Mr. Carteret +was badly wounded; Captain Egerton lost an arm; and even gallant young +Charlie had a cut over his right eye, of which, if the truth must be +told, he was exceedingly proud. Tom Adderley escaped untouched, though +he had been in the thickest of the fight from first to last. Old +Gideon, too, was safe, but they had lost many a comrade, both among the +boarders and the men who had served the guns.</p> + +<p>A victory is not all pleasure, as many a man has acknowledged as well +as poor Tom Adderley, as he helped to clear the decks that afternoon.</p> + +<p>This engagement, which lasted for less than an hour, took place on the +10th of May, 1815, and on the 13th of May the "Imogene" and her big +prize sailed into Cawsand Bay, near Plymouth.</p> + +<p>The "Imogene" was paid off as soon as possible, the men receiving their +arrears of pay and all their prize-money, except, of course, what they +had won by taking the "Monarque."</p> + +<p>And then Tom saw some comical scenes—comical in one way, but sad enough +in another. For instance, he saw a dozen sailors, not quite as sober as +they ought to have been, driving about in and on a hearse, which they +had hired for the day. There was great struggling for seats on the top, +the tars saying that they preferred to be on deck. They drove about the +streets, visiting all the public-houses, where they not only got very +drunk themselves, but insisted upon "treating" every one they could lay +hold of. He saw a man, whom he had believed to be a quiet, sensible +fellow, but who actually bought four watches, melted them down in a +frying-pan, and wanted to try to eat them, but was prevented by old +Gideon at considerable personal risk.</p> + +<p>Tom was utterly surprised and shocked at these and similar scenes, but +Gideon said that this kind of thing always went on when men were paid +off, and that he had witnessed worse doings than these. There were no +"Sailors' Homes" or "Sailors' Reading-rooms" in those days, and, little +as either Gideon or Tom liked the life, they could not quite keep out +of the way of their old comrades.</p> + +<p>"Why," said Tom, "they won't have a guinea left out of all their money, +at this rate."</p> + +<p>"Not a silver shilling," said Gideon; "and then they'll all go to sea +again."</p> + +<p>"Well, if I hadn't seen it, I could never have believed that men could +be such fools. What's the good of working hard to earn money, only to +fling it away like this?"</p> + +<p>"Worse than no good, Tom, if so be the poor souls could only see it. +Soul and body they do injure. Why, already you'd hardly know Greg +Collier; and as to your old shipmate, Dick Carr, 'twill be months +before he is himself again."</p> + +<p>"Dick has some excuse. You know he found out accidental, from a man he +met in the dockyard, that his girl is married. But the rest—such a set +of fools!"</p> + +<p>"Well, Tom, no one ever taught 'em better, poor dear souls. Such +rioting is not your temptation, and I'm thankful for that. Indeed, I +think you're a good lad, Tom, and wish to do what's right, but don't +ye be proud and despise your neighbours. It leads to no good. It's not +only because it's in the Bible that I say that pride goes before a +fall; it is likeways my own experience. We're all poor creatures, and +each one has his own temptation. Tom, I do suppose you're going home +for a sight of your good father and mother—when and how do you think to +go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm not going, Gideon. I mean to go to sea again. I met an old friend +yesterday—a man by the name of Robins, who was aboard the 'Star of the +Sea' with me. This fellow has a boat of his own now, and is making +a heap of money. He says if I'll trust him with my savings, he'll +double them for me. I have only twenty-five guineas—you know my share +was a good bit less than those that served the whole time with the +'Imogene.' And I won't go home till I can do so with credit—pay my +mother threefold, or even four. What I'd like would be to find some +ship that's been a couple of years in commission, so that I could be +free again, say, in two years. Then I could go home."</p> + +<p>"Take my advice and go now," said Gideon. "You've been brought to see +that you did very wrong to take that money from your mother. Go home +and tell her so; for, you may believe me, those words will be more to +her than all the gold in Solomon's temple—and you'll mind, Tom, there +was a lot of gold in that there. Do now, my boy. Something tells me +that if you don't, you'll be sorry for it."</p> + +<p>"I don't like to go against your advice, Gideon. But you see, I've +promised Robins. He used to talk of my being his partner long ago, but +I shouldn't care for that now. And what ill can come of it? My father +and mother are not to say old—I've heard her say she was seventeen +when they were married, and he very little more. My poor sister that +died was the oldest of us. Let me see; she was eighteen when she +died, and little Dolly was three when I ran away—that's twenty-one +years. Twenty-one and seventeen—" Tom paused and knit his brow—"that's +thirty-eight. And four years aboard the old 'Star'—that's forty-two; +and three in the 'Imogene'—that's forty-five; and that ain't old. +Neither father nor mother can be much more than that."</p> + +<p>"It's not to say old, but that's not the question. You owe it to them +to go as soon as you can, and tell them you're sorry you disobeyed them +and took what you'd no right to take. It's the principle of the thing, +Tom; it's because you ought."</p> + +<p>"I don't see it as you do, Gideon. I want to make amends to them, and +what's twenty-five guineas? Now, if Robins goes on being as lucky as he +has been, I'll soon have what would stock a small farm, and that would +be worth talking about. And indeed, I may as well tell you, there's no +use in talking, because I never thought you'd see things so different, +and—I gave Robins the money."</p> + +<p>"If you'd told me that at once, my lad, I'd have saved my breath to +whistle for a wind. Well, I hope Robins is an honest man. I do declare, +Tom, you're very risky."</p> + +<p>"Why, I've known Robins this long time! 'Twas he first taught me to +trade a little on my own account, and taught me to add up, and reckon, +and all that. See, he gave me a reg'lar receipt, as he called it. Oh, +the money is safe enough. And I was telling him of you, Gideon, and all +your goodness to me. And he said if you'd trust him with a few guineas, +he'll do as well for you as for me."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay; all that sounds very well, but before I do anything of the +kind, I'd like to know something about the kind of trade he carries on. +'Twas that I mean, not that your money isn't safe; though I'm not so +sure it be safe either. We'll see this Robins and make inquiry. I wish +you'd 'a gone home, Tom; I wish you'd go even now."</p> + +<p>"I couldn't do that. Don't ask it, Gideon."</p> + +<p>"Well, come along, and let's see if we can get sight of this Robins."</p> + +<p>But, curious to relate, this was what they could not do! They could by +no means find Mr. Robins. Tom met him once again, when he was alone, +and received an earnest assurance that his trade was "all fair and +above-board." But when Gideon was with him, Tom was very unlucky in +always missing his friend Robins.</p> + +<p>The chance of meeting him was soon over, for happening to meet Mr. +Duncan, now a commander, he told them that he had been appointed +to the "Juno" (Captain Parkhurst), going out with Lord A—, the new +Governor-General of India, to Calcutta. The ship was to come home and +be paid off as soon as this duty was performed, and it would take a +year or fourteen months.</p> + +<p>This seemed to be the very thing Tom wanted, so both he and Gideon +offered themselves, and were accepted. The "Juno" sailed in June, and +the last thing Tom heard from his native land was the thunder of the +guns firing for the great victory over Napoleon at Waterloo.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image023" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image023.jpg" alt="image023"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image024" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image024.jpg" alt="image024"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_10">CHAPTER X.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>TOM'S ONE HUNDRED AND FIFTY GUINEAS.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>THE "Juno" was back in Plymouth in less than two years. And when Tom +and Gideon were paid off, Tom was in a fever of anxiety to see Robins +and hear how his venture had prospered. He chose to go alone. Robins +had a house in the Barbican, where his wife and children lived, and +there Tom found him, and was informed that his twenty-five guineas had +been turned and turned again to such advantage that one other voyage +would make him the owner of one hundred and fifty guineas.</p> + +<p>Now, Tom Adderley, though ignorant, was no fool, and Gideon's words had +opened his eyes. He knew as well as any one could that money is not +made thus rapidly in honest, lawful trade. Robins told him nothing, +and he asked no questions, but he knew perfectly that the man was +a smuggler, and that he ought to have nothing to say to him. But—a +hundred and fifty guineas! Fancy walking into Burdeck the owner of such +a sum as that! Why, no one in Burdeck had ever seen so much money! Very +likely there were few that could count it. Tom felt that he could not +give up the chance of this triumph, and he told himself that even if he +took his money now, it had been made in the same way, so where was the +use of stopping short of that magnificent hundred and fifty? And he did +not actually know that Robins was a smuggler—only that Gideon was sure +to say so.</p> + +<p>Gideon did say so, and said a good deal more than that. In fact, he +made himself so unpleasant that he and Tom had high words for the first +time, and Tom went off and entered his name on board the "Inconstant," +a frigate which had been in commission for some little time, and had +put into Plymouth for repairs and a few new hands. She sailed the next +day, so that Tom did not see Gideon again even to tell him what he had +done.</p> + +<p>Charlie Egerton was on board the "Inconstant," and when Tom came to +himself and was very sorry for his behaviour to Gideon, he got Mr. +Egerton to write a letter for him, which was sent to Captain Egerton, +now living near Plymouth, who would, Tom was sure, do his best to find +the old sailor.</p> + +<p>The "Inconstant" was paid off in about a year, and Tom found himself +once more in Plymouth, and free.</p> + +<p>As soon as he could shake off the companionship of his late shipmates, +he hastened to the house in the Barbican where he had left the Robins +family. Alas! He found strangers living there, who did not even know +the name of Robins. Tom knew no one in the neighbourhood, but he felt +that he must make inquiries, at any risk; and it seemed possible that +at the nearest public-house he might hear something of Robins.</p> + +<p>He walked into the bar, asked for a glass of ale, and said to the lad +who drew it for him, "I came here to see an old messmate of mine—a man +called Peter Robins—and he lived over the way there, at the corner +house. Do you know where he is now?"</p> + +<p>"I'm sure I don't know, sir," said the youth, carelessly.</p> + +<p>But a door, which was already half-way open, was now opened a little +more, and a jolly, good-tempered-looking woman, with bright ribbons in +her cap, looked in at Tom. After watching him for a few moments, she +said—</p> + +<p>"Look here, you Jack ashore—you in the blue cap. Step this way. I want +to speak to you."</p> + +<p>Tom followed her into her snug little parlour, and she shut the door.</p> + +<p>"Was it you I heard asking about Peter Robins just now?"</p> + +<p>"It was, ma'am. He is an old shipmate of mine."</p> + +<p>"Don't tell me! Robins never sailed in a king's ship!"</p> + +<p>"No, ma'am; merchant ship—'Star of the Sea,' from Liverpool. I was in +her too, but was pressed for the navy."</p> + +<p>"Ay—that's more likely! Well, you're a decent looking lad, and I'll +do you a good turn. Don't be heard asking for Robins any more. +Robins—well, truth's best—he was a friend of mine, and many and many a +keg of Hollands—But that don't matter to you. He got too venturesome, +did Robins, with lace. 'Twas the lace that ruined him. His boat was +seized, and he had a mighty narrow shave of being hung. And if you want +to find him now, you may start for Botany Bay. That's the truth, young +man. Why, what's the matter now?"</p> + +<p>"My money!" moaned poor Tom. "Oh, mother, mother! What's to become of +me now?"</p> + +<p>He broke away from her, and ran out of the house. The fresh air brought +him so far to himself that he walked along quietly. The next thing he +knew, he was standing on the Hoe, near the Citadel, gazing out to sea.</p> + +<p>All his money gone! Mother's golden guineas, father's little farm, his +own fortune that he was so proud of—all gone! What was he to do now? He +had about ten guineas—no more. For, counting on the money from Robins, +and being without old Gideon's care and kindness, he had been a little +extravagant of late. Only last night he had lost a good deal of money +at some game, and still more in betting on his own play. He could +never face his mother and father now! To be more than ten years away, +and to return no richer than he went! That he would never do. To set +to work again to save money? There was no prize-money to be had now, +and it would be years before he could scrape together any considerable +sum. To go to sea again, to forget his mother, put away all thoughts +of home, to forget Gideon and his teaching, and enjoy life like other +sailors;—this, he thought, was the only thing left for him to do.</p> + +<p>"I'll go back to the 'Royal Tar,' treat the fellows all round, spend +my money as fast as I can, and go to sea again. It's no use thinking +of anything else. Gideon warned me, and I wouldn't heed him. I've lost +him, and I've lost my own people, and there's no use in trying to be +good; the bad comes more natural. I give up, and I'll have some fun, +anyhow."</p> + +<p>And in order to begin as soon as possible to be exceedingly jolly and +merry, Tom here began to sing. He had a fine mellow voice, sweet and +tuneful. And as he strode along, meaning to go through Plymouth and +make his way to the public-house in Dock (as Devonport was then called) +where he had left his comrades, he shouted out a long ditty about "the +saucy 'Arethusa,'" and dashed along at a great pace.</p> + +<p>Presently he almost ran against a gentleman with only one arm, who was +coming out of a shop. And at the same moment, some one laid hold of +him, saying—</p> + +<p>"I'd know his pipe among a thousand! Stay a moment, Tom."</p> + +<p>Tom turned. The speaker was Gideon Terlizzeck, and the gentleman was +Captain Egerton.</p> + +<p>"Why, Adderley, is this you?" said the captain, doubtfully; not +doubting that this was Tom, but doubting much whether Tom was in a fit +condition to be spoken to by his old captain.</p> + +<p>"'Tis me, sir," said Tom. And he added, after a pause, "I'm all right, +sir. I'm quite sober."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I see you are.—Gideon, bring him home with you.—Mrs. Egerton's +waiting for me, but I shall see you again presently, Tom. Gideon has +been looking for you. We heard this morning that the 'Inconstant' was +paid off."</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir. You're very kind, Captain Egerton.—Oh, Gideon, Gideon, but I +wish I'd never left you!"</p> + +<p>"Come along, my lad; come with me now. Where have you been staying, +Tom?"</p> + +<p>"'Royal Tar,' near the dockyard gate."</p> + +<p>"Ay, I know it. Your kit will be safe there; 'tis an honest house. The +captain lives out the other way, on the Laira Road; and I live with +him."</p> + +<p>"Don't go to sea no more?" asked Tom.</p> + +<p>"No more—unless the captain goes, and wishes to take me. He's served +his time for his flag, and will be an admiral pretty soon, and his +health has not been the same since he lost his arm. So I think his +sea-going days are over; and, if so, mine are over too."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said Tom, in a dreary, absent tone. He did not more than half +understand what Gideon said, and though he walked along beside his old +friend, he did not know where he was going. His mind was in such a +tumult of grief and anger—anger with Robins, not with himself—that he +could think of nothing else. And all the time a small voice kept saying +to him, "You are rightly served; you deserved to lose your money."</p> + +<p>Gideon became silent when he saw that Tom did not attend to him. They +left the town behind them, and walked along a fine open road, with the +Laira (an inlet of the harbour) on one side, and on the other pretty +little domains with gardens and comfortable houses, mostly inhabited by +half-pay naval officers. At the gate of one of these Gideon stopped. +There was a tiny red-brick gate-house, and to this he led the way.</p> + +<p>"Here's where I've slung my hammock," said he, as he unlocked the door.</p> + +<p>Tom roused up for the first time, and looked round with some interest. +The one room was in the most exquisite state of cleanliness and order, +but to our eyes it would have looked very bare. There was just enough +furniture for one person, with an extra chair for a visitor. The +floor was tiled, and the tiles were rubbed till they were as red as +if new. Before the clumsy, comfortable, wooden armchair lay a small +square of carpet, neatly edged round with fringe. On the white walls, +which might have been white-washed that morning, hung a model of a +frigate, and a picture representing a sea-fight, wherein smoke was the +most conspicuous feature; a coffee-pot, a frying-pan, and a small tin +saucepan. The little grate held a spark of fire, and a shining kettle +set on the hob. Big hooks in the walls showed that when Gideon said he +slung his hammock here, he had used no figure of speech; indeed, the +hammock, its canvas as white as snow, lay rolled up neatly on a low +shelf. Another shelf held a few cups and saucers and plates, and there +was a cupboard for provisions. Gideon drew Tom in, and shut the door.</p> + +<p>"My house, Tom. You're welcome, my son, right welcome. Do you know, +I've prayed for this moment, many and many a time. Isn't it snug, Tom? +Isn't it, now?" the old man said, looking proudly round.</p> + +<p>He had taken Tom's hand in his. But now Tom pulled it away, dropped +into the armchair, and laid his arms on the table. Down went his head, +till his face was hidden on his outstretched arms, and then great sobs +shook his broad shoulders, and poor Tom, quite broken down by Gideon's +kindness and a sudden sense of his own unworthiness, cried like a baby.</p> + +<p>"My lad! My dear lad! I sought you all yesterday and this morning, for +to break the bad news to you like, but never went to the 'Royal Tar.' I +went to the quiet old place where you and I used to stop."</p> + +<p>"You know, then, about Robins, Gideon?" said Tom, raising his head and +rubbing the tears away.</p> + +<p>"Yes. The captain was in Plymouth the day his boat, and some others +too, were seized, and he happened to mention it to me."</p> + +<p>"Does the captain know about my money?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; I told him as how Robins was an old comrade of yours, and that +you had trusted him with some money to trade with. I had for to tell +him that much—I'll explain why presently. How did you hear of it?"</p> + +<p>"I went to his house, and the woman who has the public-house opposite +told me. I was going back to the 'Royal Tar' when you met me."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image025" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image025.jpg" alt="image025"></figure> +<p class="t4"> +<b>GREAT SOBS SHOOK HIS BROAD SHOULDERS,</b><br> +<b>AND POOR TOM . . . CRIED LIKE A BABY.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>"Tom, I'm sorry, 'very' sorry for you."</p> + +<p>"Gideon, you're not sorry that I've lost that money. You can't be; for +you 'are' good and upright. You warned me. I mind you said,—</p> + +<p>"'Get back your twenty-five guineas that you gave him, and don't take +another shilling, for his earnings are dishonest money, and you'll have +no blessing on it.'</p> + +<p>"Those were your words, and I wouldn't mind them. And now I'm ruined +altogether."</p> + +<p>"You've lost the money, Tom, but you've escaped a much worse thing +than that. You'll soon see that you've a deal to be thankful for. That +fellow Robins saved his life by turning king's evidence, and he gave +your name as having given funds towards the business. 'Twere then I +told the captain about it. And he went and got a lawyer, and they saw +Robins, and made him own up that he told you 'twas all honest trade. +And so, by saying how you had sailed with him, and giving you a good +character, the captain got you out of that scrape, which might have +been a very ugly one."</p> + +<p>"Gideon, I'll tell you the truth. Robins told me 'twas all right, as +you say, but I didn't believe him—not that last time."</p> + +<p>"Well, I never was asked about anything but the first time. You never +gave him any more, did you?"</p> + +<p>"No. 'Twas very good of the captain to do all this for me, but 'twas +better of you, Gideon, for I behaved ungrateful to you."</p> + +<p>"You was angry, but you wrote, if you remember. Indeed, I didn't wait +for that to forgive you, Tom. That letter was the means of bringing me +to my present comfortable anchorage. I'm gardener, under the mistress, +and I mind the pony, under the captain; and I get my dinner at the +house, and live here in great peace and comfort. At first I had a girl +to do for me, but, bless you, she made work for me—she did indeed. +Females don't seem to me to know straight from crooked, nor yet how to +put a real finish on anything. I do for myself now. Have a pipe, Tom? +'Twill soothe your spirits."</p> + +<p>Pipes being lighted, both men were silent for a time. Presently a +well-known voice called—</p> + +<p>"Lodge ahoy! Are you there, Terlizzeck? Gate!"</p> + +<p>Gideon hurried out to admit the pony carriage. Mrs. Egerton was +driving, and as soon as she was inside the gate, she drew up.</p> + +<p>"Adderley here?" said the captain.</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay, sir," answered Tom, appearing at the door.</p> + +<p>"Oh, come here, Tom Adderley," said Mrs. Egerton, "and let me thank you +for saving my boy. It's an old story now, I know, but, you see, I never +met you before."</p> + +<p>"I'm sure, ma'am, you're very welcome," said Tom, blushing all over.</p> + +<p>"Come up to the house to dinner with Gideon," said the captain, "and +you'll see Mr. Egerton. He is at home, you know."</p> + +<p>"Is he going afloat again, sir?" inquired Tom.</p> + +<p>"Oh no, not just yet," Mrs. Egerton replied hastily.</p> + +<p>The captain laughed, and said, "Drive on, Carrie." And off they drove.</p> + +<p>"Nov, Tom, you stay here and make yourself at home, till such time as I +hail you from the other end of the drive; then come to me. I must go to +take the pony and make all snug."</p> + +<p>"Let me go along and help you," said Tom. "I haven't forgotten how to +tackle a pony yet."</p> + +<p>By the time the pony was rubbed down, and the carriage washed, and the +neat little stable, coach-house, and yard made snug, a bell rang.</p> + +<p>"That's for dinner," said Gideon. "I used to live altogether in my own +berth, but the mistress found out that I am no great hand at cooking, +beyond a slice of fried bacon or an egg, so she regulated that I +should dine here, and the moment the captain is served—and of course +Mr. Charlie or any visitor—she carves for me, and I has my dinner in +a little room off the kitchen. All to myself, like Joseph and his +brethren—ye mind that, Tom? This way."</p> + +<p>After dinner, Tom had a few kind words from the captain and Mrs. +Egerton, and was then taken by Gideon to see the garden. Mrs. Egerton +understood gardening well, and in Gideon she had a most zealous and +painstaking assistant. The rows of peas and beans were as straight and +even as if made by machinery. The cabbages were cut in rows—no looking +about for the best was permitted here; and as each row disappeared, the +ground was dug over and raked smooth. Not a morsel of rough ground was +to be seen. As to weeds, they never had a chance of getting beyond two +saucy little leaves.</p> + +<p>The only point upon which Gideon and his mistress differed was that he, +in his love of order, wanted to tie the rose trees to sticks, and to +force every one of them to grow in exactly the same form; also, when a +bed of mignonette began to look a little bit straggling, though still +in full blossom, Gideon would have liked to pull it all up and rake the +bed over, "trim and tidy." These things Mrs. Egerton would not allow, +but, in spite of her, the flower garden was somewhat severely tidy.</p> + +<p>Tom, however, approved of all he saw, and thought of mother's little +garden at home with the bees in the flowers—mother's garden that he +would never see again.</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image026" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image026.jpg" alt="image026"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image027" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image027.jpg" alt="image027"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_11">CHAPTER XI.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>THE JOURNEY HOME.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AT six o'clock Gideon "knocked off" work, Tom having pulled off his +jacket and handled a spade in fine style ever since dinner. In fact, he +was able to teach Gideon a thing or two about digging, and Gideon was +not above learning.</p> + +<p>They returned to the lodge, where Gideon prepared an abundant meal for +his guest—fried bacon, coffee, baker's bread, everything of the best, +and plenty of it. After supper they sat by the fire, though it was very +warm, and Gideon asked—</p> + +<p>"And when do you go north, Tom?"</p> + +<p>"North! Why, is there anything particular going on thereaway?"</p> + +<p>"Going home, I mean," answered Gideon.</p> + +<p>"Never," said Tom shortly.</p> + +<p>"Ay, and why, my lad, if one may ask?"</p> + +<p>"I think you hardly need ask, Gideon. I've been more than ten years +away now, and to go back just as I left them—not even a few poor +shillings to give mother, over and about the ten guineas I stole from +her! I'd be the laughingstock of the place. They've forgot me by this +time."</p> + +<p>"Mothers don't forget, nor yet fathers, I'm told, but I never had one—I +had only a mother. She was a good mother, and so is yours, kind and +loving-hearted as a woman should be. And I tell you, Tom, if she has +forgotten aught about you, 'twill be that you took that money without +her leave."</p> + +<p>"No, not she," answered Tom. "Mother's as good as gold, but she ain't +one of your soft sort, and she—well, Gideon, she has a tongue, not +scolding or brawling, but a tongue you'll have to mind."</p> + +<p>There was a short silence. Then Tom said—</p> + +<p>"I've done wrong, and I own to it. I began badly when I took that +money. Having taken it, I ought to have got Captain Collins to write +after my first voyage, and pay it back. I could have done it even then. +I did not do that, and then came the time I was pressed. Well, when I +was leaving the 'Star,' I had a notion to leave my money with Captain +Collins to send to mother. I didn't do that, and in five minutes more +the money was at the bottom of the sea. Then, when I had money again, +you urged upon me to go home for a bit. But no, I must have more money +to take with me. Then I met Robins, and you warned me again and again, +and I only fell out with you. I see it all plain enough, now that it's +too late. The money's gone, and I have no heart to begin again. It's +just my punishment—to go on being a sailor, all alone in the world +except for you, Gideon, all the rest of my life."</p> + +<p>Terlizzeck gazed thoughtfully into the fire.</p> + +<p>"You own up that you were in the wrong?" said he.</p> + +<p>"I do, Gideon. My pride is broken down. I see that I was all wrong."</p> + +<p>"No, Tom, your pride's not broken down. First time you and me ever +had a yarn, I mind well reading you the parable about the son that +went home after wasting his substance, and you said how you would +never do that—go home empty-handed, asking to be forgiven. Since then, +you've been changed in many ways, Tom. You've learned many a lesson, +and you're a steady, decent lad, and not without the fear of God +neither, but always your pride stands in your way. You don't like to be +forgiven—you'd like to earn it; and you can't earn it, not even from +your mother; and no one can earn it from God Almighty."</p> + +<p>Gideon ceased to speak, but Tom made no attempt to reply.</p> + +<p>"Seems to me," Gideon went on presently, "that you're mistaken when you +think you've learned the lesson all this ought to have taught you. And +another mistake—'twas you did wrong, and you're going to punish your +mother."</p> + +<p>"No, no; she won't want me. She has father and Sam."</p> + +<p>"You can't say for sure. A many things can happen in ten years. Anyway, +to my eyes, your duty is plain. And that is, to go home, confess your +fault, pay back what you can, and hear what your mother may have to say +to you; then to sea again with a good conscience. If you don't do this, +you'll never be happy in your mind. You'll go to sea; the temptations +are great—you'll not keep straight because you won't be helped. You +know yourself how it's like to end."</p> + +<p>Gideon here got up and busied himself in slinging his hammock, and a +second, which Captain Egerton had lent him, for Tom. Then he read a +chapter in the Bible aloud, said his prayers, and remarked—</p> + +<p>"I'll turn in, my lad, for I've got to be early."</p> + +<p>Gideon was soon asleep. Not so Tom. He lay there, thinking, then +dozing, and then thinking again. He dreamed of his mother. He saw her +working in her garden, busy and happy, and he was a boy again, helping +her. Then suddenly she looked sad and ill, and she said to him, "Where +are my golden guineas, Tom? Now the rainy day has come, I miss them."</p> + +<p>Tom woke up and could sleep no more.</p> + +<p>In the morning he said to Gideon—</p> + +<p>"Old friend, you are right all round. I ought to go home and say I'm +sorry, but I don't feel able to do it. That's the truth."</p> + +<p>"You was never a coward, Tom," said the old man quietly.</p> + +<p>They had breakfast, and then Tom said—</p> + +<p>"I'd better go and see after my kit, and, if I may, I'll come back in +the evening."</p> + +<p>"You'll never be aught but welcome, my son," replied Gideon.</p> + +<p>Tom came back in the evening in great spirits, saying—</p> + +<p>"Oh, Gideon, I've had such a piece of luck. I met Mr. Egerton, walking +with an old gentleman—I didn't take him for a sailor, but it was Sir +Michael Elliott, who is going to hoist his flag aboard the 'Conqueror,' +in the Mediterranean. And Mr. Egerton had been recommending me to him, +as he wanted a sober young man for cox of his own boat! And he don't +sail for two months, so I've plenty of time to go home; and I am going, +Gideon."</p> + +<p>"And you'll always be glad as you did so," remarked Gideon. "I'm real +glad, Tom."</p> + + +<p>Tom made the voyage to Liverpool on board a collier brig returning +for a cargo, and to see Mr. Tom turning up his nose at the dirt and +untidiness of that collier was an amusing sight. But the collier was +slow as well as dirty, and by the time Tom was landed in Liverpool, +he had lost the glow of his good intentions and felt very much +inclined to—run away. The idea of facing his people under his present +circumstances was so galling that he lingered a whole day in Liverpool, +and it is hard to say what he might have done, if he had not happened +to meet Captain Collins. The last time he saw his old captain he was a +hale, hearty man: now he was bent and aged and weak. Tom hardly knew +him. Having with difficulty made the old man remember him, Tom inquired +politely for Mrs. Collins. The old man sighed.</p> + +<p>"I've buried her, Adderley. Lost her five years ago. Never the same +since. I'm getting old—getting old. Time flies. Seems to me only +yesterday I was a young fellow like you."</p> + +<p>Somehow, this made Tom set off inland the next morning.</p> + +<p>It was a longish tramp, but the worst of it was that he had to spend +some of his money for food and lodging. Footsore and weary, he at last +found himself in a familiar place. He knew that he was close to Burdeck.</p> + +<p>Tom sat down and rested. He ate some food that he had with him, and +then carefully arranged his dress and shook off the dust. He did not +want to look weary and forlorn. Then he walked on. Ah! There was little +Burdeck nestling in its valley, and that smoke came from the chimney of +his old home.</p> + +<p>And now he stood at the garden gate, half-hoping that mother would +look-out and know him. The garden—what ailed it? And the apricot +was dead; the pear tree hung loose and ragged from the wall. Half +frightened, he opened the gate and strode to the door.</p> + +<p>"Who's within?" he cried, and his voice sounded strange to his own +ears. He had to call more than once. At last, just as he was making up +his mind to open the door for himself, it was opened by a dirty looking +woman with a baby in her arms.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye want?" said she, looking half frightened.</p> + +<p>"Who are you?" he answered. "Your name is never Adderley?"</p> + +<p>"No—I don't know the name. Be off now; I want no tramps about."</p> + +<p>"Hold hard, mistress," said Tom, as she was going to shut the door. +"Where is Thomas Adderley that lived here once?"</p> + +<p>"'Twas before our time," she answered, and she shut the door.</p> + +<p>He heard her lock it. After a moment or so, he walked away, and went up +the garden of the next house, where the Trayners used to live. He felt +quite stupid. A decent looking young woman was at the door. She, too, +had a baby in her arms.</p> + +<p>"Does Matthew Trayner live here still?" Tom said.</p> + +<p>"No, Wat, his son. What do you want with the Trayners?"</p> + +<p>"Mistress, I'm not a tramp," said Tom quickly. "I belong to these +parts, and have been away at sea for years. All I want is to know where +I may find my people."</p> + +<p>"My husband is away at work, but he'll be back soon after six. Maybe I +can tell you, but I'm not Burdeck born. I came from Wakefield."</p> + +<p>"Thomas Adderley, my father, he lived in that cottage—where is he?"</p> + +<p>"Are you an Adderley? Come in and sit down. I've heard my sister-in-law +Lucy talk of you. You're Tom, that went away?"</p> + +<p>"Yes. Oh, tell me, if you know, where I'll find my people."</p> + +<p>"Sit down," she said gently, and she went and laid her baby in the +cradle. "'Tis little I can tell you, and—it's not good news. Your poor +father is dead; dead some years."</p> + +<p>"My father dead!" said Tom. "A great strong man like he, and not to say +old neither. I can scarce believe it."</p> + +<p>"It is true; and I do wish Wat was here, for I hate telling you bad +news. It wouldn't sound so bad in a friend's voice. 'Twas a fever that +was very bad here; it was nine years ago. Wat's father and mother died +of it, and your father got it and lived through it. But he was never +the same again. He took on so about—" Here she paused.</p> + +<p>"Go ahead, mistress. Tell me every word."</p> + +<p>"'Twas about his oldest son. He was the first to get the fever, and he +died. Your poor father, he got to be like a child—no sense, and not +able to work. His master was very kind and left him in the cottage, and +Mrs. Adderley worked for him and kept him wonderful comfortable. When +he died, of course, she had to leave the cottage."</p> + +<p>"And where is she now?" cried Tom, standing up and groping for his hat. +"Poor father! Poor old Sam! But tell me where mother is, that I may go +to her."</p> + +<p>The young woman looked away from him.</p> + +<p>"When Wat comes home," she said, "he'll be able to tell you; I can't. I +can tell you no more."</p> + +<p>She went and brought him a mug of clear, cold water, saying, "You look +mazed—so you do. Drink some water, and sit here till Wat comes."</p> + +<p>Tom drank the water. He really was not quite himself. He sat down, and +Mrs. Trayner hoped he would stay quiet till her husband came in. But in +a few minutes Tom was up again.</p> + +<p>"Where are you going?" she asked him. "Do sit still a bit; you look—"</p> + +<p>"I'm smothering. I must get out into the air," said Tom.</p> + +<p>"Well, walk up that way, towards the church," she said, not wanting him +to go on into the village.</p> + +<p>He had left his bundle, so she knew he would come back. He walked a +little way towards the church, then came back to her.</p> + +<p>"Lookey here; you 'knows,' and you may as well tell me. Is she dead +too?"</p> + +<p>"Oh no. And Wat knows and will tell you where you'll find her."</p> + +<p>Tom turned away, but this time he went on to the village.</p> + +<p>The shop, the forge, all as of old, but no one knew him, nor did he +look at any one. At last he was at the gate of the garden, in the +corner of which old Master Dwight used to sit in the sun and "mind his +latter end—" at least, so he said. Not thinking of what he did, Tom +opened the gate and sought the well-remembered sunny corner. And there, +looking as if he had never moved since Tom said good-bye to him, sat +old Master Dwight, blinking in the hot sun, and mumbling to himself in +a querulous tone—</p> + +<p>"Too long! Too long! I'm living too long. They're all tired of my +stories; no one comes to listen to 'em now. Who's this? A sailor; ay, +and a king's man, too! Trust old Dwight to know that. What d'ye say, +eh? Speak up! I'm getting a 'little' bit deaf."</p> + +<p>"Don't you know me, Master Dwight?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure I do," said the old fellow, genially. "You're Ben Benson, +master of the 'Rosy Dawn.' But no; Ben's dead, so you can't be Ben. +Adderley, is it? No, I don't know any one by that name, do I. Yes, +to be sure, but only of late years, and things slip out of my head. +Adderley! Yes, he died of the great fever, and so did his son Sam. And +the other boy was run away; and the mother, foolish woman, blamed me +for that.</p> + +<p>"But, for all that, I stood up for her. When she buried her husband, +and was ill with hardship and overwork, I stood up for her, though she +had tongued me more than once. I said plainly as it was a shame to the +whole village to let a decent, good woman like her go to the House. I +said, 'One of ye take her in, and when she gets better, her work will +be worth her keep.' But they're a mean lot here, and disgraceful poor. +And there was the little maid, too—a pretty little maid, and of a good +stock. But who'll marry her now, bred up in Wakefield Workhouse?"</p> + +<p>Tom stood as if turned to stone. He had all the English peasant's +horror of the workhouse. His mother—his tidy, thrifty, busy mother! So +this was her fate! And pretty little Dolly! Ah, no wonder Wat Trayner's +wife had disliked telling him this!</p> + +<p>Old Dwight was still talking away, but Tom did not hear a word he said. +He started after a few minutes, and, leaving the garden, walked quickly +back to the Trayners' cottage.</p> + +<p>"Mistress," he said, "I know all now. Old Dwight told me. You've a kind +heart; you couldn't bring yourself to do it. And there's old Dwight, +not a day older to look at; and my father and—Give me my bundle, like a +good soul. I can reach Wakefield before night."</p> + +<p>"You are not able for it. Do stay a bit, and Wat will tell you—"</p> + +<p>"There's nothing more to tell. She buried her husband and her good son; +and the son that ought to have been her support had run off; and worse, +and—"</p> + +<p>"If you had stayed, maybe you would have died of the fever too."</p> + +<p>"And better I had," returned Tom. "Good-bye. You've been very kind to +me."</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image028" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image028.jpg" alt="image028"></figure> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<figure class="figcenter" id="image029" style="max-width: 25.3125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/image029.jpg" alt="image029"></figure> + +<p><br></p> + +<h3><a id="Chapter_12">CHAPTER XII.</a></h3> + +<p class="t3"> +<b>BETTER THAN GOLDEN GUINEAS.</b><br> +</p> + +<p><br></p> + +<p>AT an early hour of the next day, a young man in sailor's garb might +have been seen in the streets of Wakefield, asking the way to the +workhouse, but he lost his way so often, in spite of all his questions, +that he began to think the people were misleading him on purpose. He +was standing at the corner of a street, wondering which of the two that +lay before him he was to take, when a pretty, tidy young woman with a +basket on her arm passed him.</p> + +<p>She started a little when she saw him. Presently she turned and came +back. As she drew near, she looked at something "very" interesting at +the other side of the street, and said in a low voice, "I wonder is +it—Tom Adderley?"</p> + +<p>Tom looked at her. "Did you call me?" he said.</p> + +<p>"Why, then, you 'are' Tom," said the girl, putting her hand on his arm. +"Oh, Tom, what years and years it is since I saw you last! I kept your +secret, Tom. No one ever knew that I saw you that day."</p> + +<p>"If this ain't Lucy Trayner!" cried Tom, his face brightening a little. +"Ah, Lucy, things are sore changed since that day. I got to Burdeck +yesterday, to find strangers in the old home, and a new mistress in +yours. I didn't see Wat, and not a soul knew me."</p> + +<p>"But did no one tell you? Oh, poor Tom!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, your sister-in-law told me; and a kind soul she is. And mother is +in the workhouse here. Oh, Lucy, that's the worst of it all. She that +was so clever and so busy, to be shut up there with no one to care for; +and it's my fault! I declare I wonder you can bear to look at me, Lucy."</p> + +<p>"Your fault, for running away? Well, 'twas wrong, I know, but your +mother never says a word of blame to you, and—"</p> + +<p>"Mother never blames me?"</p> + +<p>"Never once—never to me, anyhow. I go to see her when I can. And oh, +but I am glad you've come back to her! You'll make up to her now for +all."</p> + +<p>"Lucy, will you show me where the workhouse is?"</p> + +<p>"In this street. Come, and I'll show you. I must not stay too long; I'm +in service here. But my mistress is very kind."</p> + +<p>She stopped presently at an iron gate in a high wall.</p> + +<p>"This is the House, Tom. I know the matron; shall I just tell her who +you are?"</p> + +<p>"If you would, 'twould be a kindness."</p> + +<p>"And you'll tell me what you mean to do? Ask for Dr. Cartwright's house +in George Street; I live there."</p> + +<p>A man came to the gate, and Lucy asked to see Mrs. Good, the mistress. +They were admitted, and were soon in Mrs. Good's neat parlour.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Good was a kindly, sentimental little woman, who cried over Lucy's +story, and said it was real touching. "And I'll send for Mrs. Adderley, +and then you can see her here comfortably, sir."</p> + +<p>Lucy left them, as she could spare no more time.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Good went away; she felt that the mother and son would be happier +alone.</p> + +<p>Tom thought that his mother would pass the window of the little +parlour, so he stood watching for her.</p> + +<p>But she came in by a back door, and Mrs. Good only told her that there +was a young man wanting to see her.</p> + +<p>Ah, some years ago—not many, for she had been but four years in the +House—Mrs. Adderley would have suspected in a moment that the "young +man" was Tom! But hope and expectation had died out of her, in the +sameness and dreariness of her life. She just walked in and said, when +the tall figure at the window did not turn round—</p> + +<p>"What's your will, sir?"</p> + +<p>She had fancied it might be Wat Trayner, who sometimes came to see her. +Seeing that it was not he, she wondered a little why she was wanted.</p> + +<p>Tom turned now, took a hasty step forward, and stopped. A little bent +old woman, with a patient white face and weak eyes (much crying had +dimmed them)—this was not his mother!</p> + +<p>"It was Mrs. Adderley, from Burdeck—Oh, mother, mother!" For he knew +her—suddenly.</p> + +<p>"Who calls me 'mother'?" she said. "Come here; let me see you. Why, +'tis my Tom, my darling boy that I haven't seen these eleven years! Oh, +Tom, be it really you?"</p> + +<p>"Mother, it is. Your bad boy that robbed you and ran away, and left you +to come to—this."</p> + +<p>She was sobbing and laughing, and holding him by the arm, going on +altogether like a crazy creature.</p> + +<p>"My Tom! Grown a man, and such a fine man, too. My boy! The same curls +on his head, and the same look in his eyes. Yes, you were bad, Tom, to +run away and disobey poor father and me. And I hope you've repented of +it. But don't fret, my boy; don't ye be 'too' sorry. Your poor father +often said, 'Tom will get on; he were too stirring for Burdeck ways.' +And he left his blessing for you, and his forgiveness—he did, Tom, +truly. Oh, my own boy, I can die in peace now."</p> + +<p>"Sit down, mother dear; you're all of a tremble. Tell me all, mother. I +only know that poor father and Sam are both dead."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adderley told her story, but not very lucidly. She went backwards +and forwards, she made mistakes and corrected them, and she told many +particulars which had nothing to do with it. But all this was only +doing after the fashion of women of her class when excited, and Tom +understood very well. He gathered that she had never told any one that +he had robbed her, not even her husband. Also, that if she had had a +little money when Adderley died, she could have set up a little shop in +Burdeck, and have supported herself and Dolly. Dolly was in service—put +out by "the Board," they called themselves—and her grandmother had not +seen her for many months.</p> + +<p>"And she such a pet, Tom! I do fret after Dolly, the pretty little +dear."</p> + +<p>"Mother," answered Tom, "every word you say is like sticking a knife +into me. I ought to have been here to work for you and little Dolly, +and I've worse than that to confess to you. I can't be easy till I've +told you all. But can you listen now?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, I can," she said promptly. "The sound of your voice, Tom, though +'tis changed a bit, do make me feel so happy that I could listen for +ever. But I don't know that I could give my mind to the meaning."</p> + +<p>But she did give her mind to it, when Tom was fairly launched on his +story. He concealed nothing. When he ceased, she knew his history as +well as he knew it himself.</p> + +<p>"So now, you see, mother, what a bad son I've been to you. Time and +again I might have paid you back what I took—your golden guineas that +you never said a word about, for fear I should be blamed. If I had sent +that money by Captain Collins, it would have kept father in comfort and +you from overworking yourself. If I'd come home when the 'Imogene' was +paid off, I'd have been in time to set up the little shop for you. Now +I've come at last, nearly empty-handed. But, mother, see; I'm kneeling +here before you. Put your blessed old hand on my head, and say, 'Tom, +I forgive you.' Do say it, mother. I was wrong all through—proud, and +selfish, and careless—but forgive me, if you can, knowing all."</p> + +<p>She put her hand on his head, but stopped to pull out one of the close +curls and look at it lovingly.</p> + +<p>"The times I've dreamt that the deep sea was hiding them curls!" she +said. "Forgive ye, child? Mothers don't forgive; they don't need to." +And she flung her arms round his neck and kissed him again and again.</p> + +<p>"From this moment, mother, I belong to you. I'll get work here; I'll +make a home for you and Dolly, and—and you'll be like yourself again."</p> + +<p>To see how her changed face brightened, and how, in a moment, her +business-like faculties were at work again! She made him tell her what +money he had, and advised him to get Lucy Trayner to help him to look +for lodgings—furnished, for he had not enough to buy furniture—they +could do that by-and-by. Then he was to get her some clothes—</p> + +<p>"For, you know, these I have on are not my own; and mind, now, 'very' +little will do for a time."</p> + +<p>And then he was to go to Mr. Samuel Trotter, in the main street. This +was the fruiterer and vegetable dealer who used to buy all her fruit +and honey in the good old days. And he would help Tom to get a place, +for he was a kind man, and would remember her. And he was on no account +to take Dolly from her place until Mrs. Adderley was ready to see after +her.</p> + +<p>Tom laughed, and promised obedience. "I know you again now, mother," +said he.</p> + +<p>All this was done as Mrs. Adderley directed, only Lucy and Tom were +extravagant, she declared, in the purchase of clothes for her. A queen, +she said, might have worn that plaid shawl, and thankful! Mr. Trotter +took Tom into his own employment to drive his light cart, both for +leaving goods at purchasers' houses, and going here and there in the +season to buy fruit—a part of his work—for which Mr. Trotter had got +too fat and lazy. Poor little Dolly was taken from a very hard, rough +place, and began to go to school regularly. The church schools in +Wakefield were very good, and Dolly, naturally clever, was soon able to +teach her uncle to read, and even, as time went on, to write.</p> + +<p>But for many a long day it was only by a great effort of his strong +will that Tom kept up a cheerful demeanour before his mother and +Dolly. He had really loved his profession, and had left it just when +his prospects were very bright. He had got Lucy's master to write to +Captain Egerton for him, begging him to tell Gideon how things were +with him, and to explain to Admiral Elliott that he could not go to sea +again. But life seemed very dull and his work very uninteresting. And +sometimes he wondered, if his mother knew how he hated it, would she +not insist on his going to sea again?</p> + +<p>But he never told her. He fought against his feelings like a brave +man—nay, better than that, like a Christian man; and, by God's help, he +conquered himself, and came out of the conflict a better and a stronger +man. And his mother was wonderfully happy, "keeping house" for him.</p> + +<p>Tom saved and pinched his own personal expenditure, until he had +saved up ten guineas. It took him a long time, but he got several +Christmas-boxes in money from Mr. Trotter's customers, and this helped +him. He bought a little wooden box, as like the old one as he could get +it, and took box and all to his mother.</p> + +<p>"Mother dear, take this. There's no interest, mother; it's only what I +robbed you of."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Adderley laughed at first, then cried a little, and finally +counted the guineas.</p> + +<p>"Ten," said she. "That's one too many, Tom. You only took nine."</p> + +<p>Tom started.</p> + +<p>"Right you are, mother. I said I'd always reckon that I took ten, and I +declare I had forgotten that I put one back."</p> + +<p>"And you needn't have done this, Tom, for you are better to me than any +number of golden guineas."</p> + +<p>"Lay them by to be a fortune for Dolly, by-and-by," said Tom, laughing.</p> + +<p>But Tom was far too clever and painstaking to remain always in such a +place as that of van-driver. He learned to read and write, and to keep +accounts without the help of notched sticks. And, as old Mr. Trotter +had no children and liked Tom very much, he took him into the shop +as foreman, and afterwards as partner. Tom's cleverness and energy +increased the business very much, and he found plenty of scope for both +in his new employment.</p> + +<p>After a while he married Lucy Trayner, who had never forgotten her +promise to marry him when he came home. And some time after his +marriage, old Gideon Terlizzeck paid him a long-promised visit, when +Mrs. Adderley and Lucy heard more of Tom's life at sea than he had ever +told them. One day Gideon happened to mention his intention to go with +Admiral Elliott when he returned from visiting his mother. Tom had +never spoken of it.</p> + +<p>"Tom," said his mother, "if I'd known what a fine prospect you had +before you, I don't believe I'd have let you give it up."</p> + +<p>"Ah yes, ma'am, you would," said Gideon. "'Twas his clear duty, all the +more because of the way he left you before. He'd have had no blessing +on his life if he had left you again. And I don't see that a man could +be happier or better off than he is now."</p> + +<p>"That's very true," said Tom, "and I'll tell you the whole truth, +mother. I did love the sea, and the excitement, and everything about +it, and when I came here first I had a tough battle before I could take +to my new life. A craving, it seemed; just like what poor Dick Carr +used to say 'he' had when he went to sea after a time ashore, when he +had been drinking. But I always felt that it would leave me, and it +did. And since then, I've been happier than I ever was before. For I +always felt that I was doing wrong, even when I denied it most. And +I always had a feeling that, sooner or later, I'd be punished, if I +didn't repent. When I lost my money, I knew I had expected it, though I +would not say so. Well, if I got another trial, as I surely did, I owe +it to you, Gideon. 'Twas you put the truth before me, so that I 'had' +to face it. All through, you've been a true friend to me."</p> + +<p>"That's pleasant for an old man to hear," said Gideon. And then he +added, simply and reverently, "But let us give God the glory. His hand +was over us for good."</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t3"> +THE END.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<p class="t4"> +PRINTED BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED,<br> +LONDON AND BECCLES.<br> +</p> + +<p><br><br><br></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 76620 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/76620-h/images/image001.jpg b/76620-h/images/image001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..029912a --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image001.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image002.jpg b/76620-h/images/image002.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1ee71fd --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image002.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image003.jpg b/76620-h/images/image003.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f4f2474 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image003.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image004.jpg b/76620-h/images/image004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b867659 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image004.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image005.jpg b/76620-h/images/image005.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..649a82a --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image005.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image006.jpg b/76620-h/images/image006.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3365a24 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image006.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image007.jpg b/76620-h/images/image007.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..adbc046 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image007.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image008.jpg b/76620-h/images/image008.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e68ce1 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image008.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image009.jpg b/76620-h/images/image009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b8af321 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image009.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image010.jpg b/76620-h/images/image010.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..846c53d --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image010.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image011.jpg b/76620-h/images/image011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d616524 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image011.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image012.jpg b/76620-h/images/image012.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7225f53 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image012.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image013.jpg b/76620-h/images/image013.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f972a13 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image013.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image014.jpg b/76620-h/images/image014.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8e7874c --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image014.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image015.jpg b/76620-h/images/image015.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0e12be7 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image015.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image016.jpg b/76620-h/images/image016.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5827ab7 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image016.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image017.jpg b/76620-h/images/image017.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e8aa2ef --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image017.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image018.jpg b/76620-h/images/image018.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..414c46f --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image018.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image019.jpg b/76620-h/images/image019.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a44329f --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image019.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image020.jpg b/76620-h/images/image020.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6911fd7 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image020.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image021.jpg b/76620-h/images/image021.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d430467 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image021.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image022.jpg b/76620-h/images/image022.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c6c2352 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image022.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image023.jpg b/76620-h/images/image023.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..53a6d22 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image023.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image024.jpg b/76620-h/images/image024.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e14e894 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image024.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image025.jpg b/76620-h/images/image025.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c0e0b87 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image025.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image026.jpg b/76620-h/images/image026.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fb5230a --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image026.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image027.jpg b/76620-h/images/image027.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c649ef --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image027.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image028.jpg b/76620-h/images/image028.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7896299 --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image028.jpg diff --git a/76620-h/images/image029.jpg b/76620-h/images/image029.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..95b454e --- /dev/null +++ b/76620-h/images/image029.jpg diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6323de3 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for eBook #76620 +(https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/76620) |
