by Mayne Reid
towards myself. When finally convinced of her intention tobecome Mrs Leary, I strove hard to overcome my prejudices against theman: for I was fully aware of the influence he would have over me as astep-father.
It was all to no purpose. I hated Mr Leary, and could not help it.
As soon as my mother had definitively made known to me her intention ofmarrying him, I felt a strong inclination to strengthen my reputation asa runaway, by running away from home. But such an exploit was then alittle too grand for a boy of my age to undertake--with much hope ofsucceeding in its accomplishment. I did not like to leave home, andafterwards be compelled to return to it--when I might be worse off thanever.
I formed the resolution, therefore, to abide in my mother's--soon to beMr Leary's--house, until circumstances should force me to leave it; andthat such circumstances would ere long arise, I had a painfulpresentiment. As will be found in the sequel, my presentiment was toofaithfully fulfilled.
Volume One, Chapter II.
A SUDDEN CHANGE OF CHARACTER.
Never have I witnessed a change so great and sudden as came over MrLeary, after his marriage with my mother.
He was no longer the humble journeyman--with the deportment of arespectable young fellow striving to retain a situation, and gainfriends by good conduct. The very day after the wedding, his behaviourwas that of a vain selfish overbearing plebeian, suddenly raised frompoverty to wealth. He no longer spoke to me in his former feigned toneof kindness, but with threats, in a commanding voice, and in accents farmore authoritative, than my father had ever used to me.
Mr Leary had been hitherto industrious, but was so no longer. Hecommenced, by employing another man to work in the shop with me, andplainly expressed by his actions that his share in the business was tobe the spending of the money we might earn.
Up to that time, he had passed among his acquaintances as a temperateman; but in less than three weeks after his marriage, he came home drunkon as many occasions; and each time spoke to my mother in an insultingand cruel manner.
I took no trouble to conceal from Mr Leary my opinion of him and hisconduct; and it soon became evident to all, that he and I could notremain long as members of the same family.
Our difficulties and misunderstandings increased, until Mr Learydeclared that I was an ungrateful wretch--unworthy of his care; that hecould do nothing with me; and that I should remain no longer in hishouse!
He held a long consultation with my mother, about what was to be donewith me--the result of which was, that I was to be sent to sea. I knownot what arguments he used; but they were effectual with my mother, forshe gave consent to his plans, and I was shortly after bound apprenticeto Captain John Brannon, of the ship "Hope," trading between Dublin andNew Orleans.
"The sea is the place for you, my lad," said Mr Leary, after theindenture had been signed, binding me to Captain Brannon. "Aboard of aship, you will learn to conduct yourself in a proper manner, and treatyour superiors with respect. You are going to a school, where you willbe taught something--whether you are willing to learn it, or not."
Mr Leary thought, by sending me to sea, he was obtaining some revengefor my ill-will towards him; but he was mistaken. Had he known whatpleasure the arrangement gave me, he would, perhaps, have tried toretain me a little longer working in the shop. As I had alreadyresolved to leave home, I was only too glad at being thus sent away--instead of having the responsibility of an indiscretion resting onmyself. I had but one cause for regret, and that was leaving my mother,brother, and sister, to the tender mercies of a man like Mr Leary.
But what was I to do? I was not yet fourteen years of age, and couldnot have protected them from him by staying at home. The hatred betweenus was mutual; and, perhaps, when his spite was no longer provoked by mypresence, he might treat the rest of the family better. This was theonly thought that consoled me on parting with my relatives.
I could do nothing but yield to circumstances, leave them to theirdestiny, whatever that was to be, and go forth upon the world in searchof my own.
My brother bore our father's name, William Stone. He was a fair-haired,blue-eyed boy, with a mild, gentle disposition, and was liked byeveryone who knew him. He never did an action contrary to the expressedwishes of those who had any authority over him; and, unlike myself, hewas always to be found when wanted. He never tried to shirk his work,or absent himself from school.
My little sister, Martha, was a beautiful child, with curly flaxen hair,and I never gazed on anything more beautiful than her large deep blueeyes, which seemed to express all the mental attributes of an angel.
It pained me much to leave little Martha--more than parting either withmy mother or brother.
My mother wished to furnish me with a good outfit, but was preventedfrom doing so by Mr Leary--who said that he could not afford theexpense. He declared, moreover, that I did not deserve it.
After my box was sent aboard the ship, and I was ready to follow it,little Willie and Martha were loud in their grief, and I had to tearmyself away from their presence.
When it came to parting with my mother, she threw her arms around me,and exclaimed, "My poor boy, you _shall_ not leave me!"
Mr Leary gave her a glance out of his sinister eyes, which had theeffect of suddenly subduing this expression of grief, and "we parted insilence and tears."
Often, and for hours, have I thought of that parting scene, and wonderedwhy and how Mr Leary had obtained so great an influence over the mindof my poor mother.
I once believed that she had a will of her own, with the courage to showit--an opinion that had been formed from observations made during thelife of my father, but since her marriage with Mr Leary, she seemedafraid of giving utterance to a word, that might express independence,and allowed him, not only to speak but think for her.
I knew that she had much affection for all of us, her children--and herregret at thus sending me, at so early an age to encounter the hardshipsof a long voyage must have been deep and sincere.
I know that her heart was nearly breaking at that moment. Theexpression of her features, and the manner in which she wrung my hand,told me so; and yet the passion of my grief was not equal in power tothat of her fear for the frowns of Mr Leary.
My amiable step-father accompanied me to the ship, which was lying inDublin Bay; and on our way thither, he became much excited with drink.He was so elated with whiskey, and with the idea that I was going away,that he did not speak to me in his usual unpleasant tone. On thecontrary, he seemed all kindness, until we had got aboard the ship.
"Now my little `Rolling Stone,'" said he, when about to take leave ofme, "you are going to have plenty of rolling now, and may you roll sofar away, as never to roll across my path again."
He appeared to think this was very witty, for he was much amused at whathe had said, and laughed long and loudly.
I made no reply, until he was in the boat, which was about to shove offfrom the ship, when, looking over the bulwarks, I called after him.
"Mr Leary! if you ill-use my mother, brother, or sister, in my absence,_I will certainly kill you when I come back_."
Mr Leary made no reply, further than to answer me with a smile, that ahyena might have envied.
Volume One, Chapter III.
STORMY JACK.
There have been so many stories told of the sufferings of boys, whenfirst sent to sea, that I shall not dwell long on those that befellmyself.
What a world to me was that ship! I little knew, before it became myhome, how many great men there were in the world. By great men, I meanthose high in authority over their fellows.
I went aboard of the ship, with the idea that my position in it would beone which ordinary people might envy. I was guided to this opinion bysomething said by the captain, at the time the indentures of myapprenticeship were being signed. No sooner were we out to sea, than Ilearnt that there were at least a dozen individuals on board, whoclaimed the right of commanding my services, and that my situation onboard was so humb
le, as to place me far beneath the notice of thecaptain in command. I had been told that we were to be _friends_, butbefore we were a week out, I saw that should it be my lot to be lostoverboard, the captain might only accidentally learn that I was gone.The knowledge of this indifference to my fate was not pleasant to me.On the contrary, I felt disappointed and unhappy.
Aboard of the ship were four mates, two boatswains, a carpenter and_his_ mate, and a steward, besides some others who took a little troubleto teach me my duty, by giving me orders which were frequently onlygiven, to save themselves the trouble of doing what they commanded me todo.
Only one of these many masters ever spoke to me in a pleasant manner.This was the boatswain of the watch, in which I was placed, who wascalled by his companions, "Stormy Jack," probably for the reason thatthere was generally a tempest in his mind, too often expressed in astorm of words.
For all this, Stormy Jack was every inch a sailor, a true British tar,and all know what that means.
Perhaps I should have
