by G. A. Henty
“Every bit,” the carpenter said. “She will be just as strong as she was on the day she was turned out.”
“How long will you be about it?”
“I would get her done in three weeks. I will go over to Southend by the twelve o’clock train and order the timber, and you can arrange this evening whether you will have her done by contract or day-work.”
Captain Murchison that evening when he returned from town, where he had gone up to report to Lloyd’s the loss of the ship, had a talk with Benting, and being assured by him that the Bessy would after the execution of the repairs be in all respects as stout a craft as before, arranged with him to do it for the sum he named, and to set to work immediately.
Three days later Mr. Godstone was able to be brought out on to the sofa in the sitting-room. Captain and Mrs. Murchison had gone home two days before, but the former came down again to Leigh on the morning Mr. Godstone got up. After a talk together Captain Murchison went out and fetched Ben Tripper in, and Mr. Godstone presented him with a cheque for a hundred pounds for himself and fifty for Tom Hoskins.
“We owe you our lives,” he said, “and we shall never forget the service you have rendered us. Captain Murchison tells me that your boat will be as good as before after she is repaired; but if she should not be so, sell her at once for what you can get for her and order a new one, I will pay the difference. In any case I consider I owe you a boat. Whether it is five years hence or ten or fifteen, if I am alive and you want another boat I give you authority to order one of the best that can be built, and to tell them to send the bill in to me. I have not given you anything for your nephew, for I have been talking to my wife, and maybe we can serve him better in some other way.”
Mrs. Godstone had indeed been in for a chat each day with Jack’s mother, and had told her husband that she felt sure neither Mrs. Robson nor Jack would like an offer of money.
“The lad is very intelligent,” she said, “and he and his mother are of quite a different class to the fisher people here. His father was a gentleman, and she has the manners of a lady. I should like for us to do the boy some permanent good, William.”
“Well, we will see about it, my dear,” her husband had said. “As soon as I am well enough to talk to him I will find out what his own wishes in the matter are.”
Jack was therefore sent for after his uncle had left the inn.
“Well, my lad,” Mr. Godstone said as he entered, “I am glad to see you at last and to thank you for what you did for us the other day. My wife tells me that you do not like being thanked, and as deeds are better than words we won’t say much more about it. So I hear you have only been living here about two years?”
“That is all, sir; we lived at Dulwich before.”
“So I hear. And your father was an artist? Have you any taste that way?”
Jack shook his head. “No, sir; I never thought of being an artist. I always wanted to go to sea.”
“To go to sea—eh?” Mr. Godstone repeated, “Well, then, you have got your wish.”
“Oh, I do not call this going to sea,” Jack said contemptuously. “I mean, I wanted to be a sailor—not a fisherman.”
“And why didn’t you go then, lad?”
“Well, sir, in the first place mother did not know anyone who had to do with ships; and then her friends were all here, and she knew the place and its ways, and she thought that by buying a bawley, as she has done, in time I should come to sail her and earn my living as my uncle does. And then I don’t think she would ever have agreed to my going to sea right away from her; but I do not know about that.”
“Well, lad, you see the case is changed now. I have to do with ships, and Captain Murchison here commands one. At least he doesn’t at the present moment, but he will do so as soon as I can buy another to supply the place of the Petrel. And as he saw one yesterday that he thinks highly of, I shall probably buy her as soon as she has been surveyed. So you see that difficulty is at an end. As to your mother, no doubt she would have objected to your going as a ship’s-boy, but perhaps she wouldn’t if you were going as an apprentice. We call them midshipmen on board our ships; I like the name better than apprentice, though the thing is about the same. Captain Murchison will, I am sure, be glad to have you with him, and will do his best to make a good sailor of you. And you may be sure that I shall push you on if you deserve it as fast as possible; and it may be that in another ten years you will be in command of one of my ships. Well, what do you say to that?”
“Oh! thank you, sir,” Jack exclaimed. “I should like that better than anything in the world, if mother will let me.”
“I don’t think that your mother will stand in the way of your good,” Mr. Godstone said. “And she must see that the prospect is a far better one than any you can have here; for after all, the profits of a bawley are not large, and the life is an infinitely harder one than that of a sailor. You had better not say anything to your mother about it until my wife has had a chat with her.”
CHAPTER VII
ON BOARD THE “WILD WAVE”
Mrs. Godstone found no difficulty whatever in persuading Jack’s mother to allow him to take advantage of her husband’s offer. Mrs. Robson had at her husband’s death decided at once that, with the small sum of money at her disposal, the only method she could see of making ends meet was to go down to Leigh and invest it in a bawley. She had never told Jack that she had even thought of allowing him to carry out his wish to go to sea; but she had thought it over, and had only decided on making a fisherman of him after much deliberation. The desire to keep him with her had of course weighed with her, but this was a secondary consideration. She had so decided, because it was evident that had he gone to sea it must have been as a ship’s-boy. In such a rough life he would have had no time whatever to continue his studies, and would speedily have forgotten most that he had learned, and he might have remained many years before the mast before he could pass as a third mate. She thought therefore that he would do better by remaining at Leigh and becoming in time master of a bawley.
In the two years that had passed she had come to have doubts as to whether she had decided wisely. The profits of fishing were exceedingly small, and the prospects were but poor. She knew well that her husband had hoped that his son would follow some line that would maintain him in his own rank of life, and she fretted at the thought that Jack would settle down for life as a Leigh fisherman, and that Lily would probably in time become a fisherman’s wife. When therefore Mrs. Godstone told her that her husband was ready to place Jack on board one of his ships as midshipman, and that he would take care he had every chance of making his way up, Mrs. Robson thankfully accepted the offer.
“The boy has always wished for a life at sea,” she said; “and I am thankful indeed that he should have such a chance of getting on. I am most grateful to Mr. Godstone for his offer, and most gladly accept it.”
“It is the least my husband can do, Mrs. Robson, considering the share your son took in saving his life. But you must not consider that this discharges the debt that I owe for myself and Mildred. That is another matter altogether. Now, in the first place, I am sure you must wish sometimes that your little girl could have an education of a different kind to that which she can obtain here. Now, I should like to send her to a good school where she would be well educated. We need not look farther forward than that at present. She is only ten years old now, and in another seven or eight her brother may be a second mate, and, with the prospect of becoming a captain in another three or four, would like his sister to be educated as a lady.”
“You are very kind, Mrs. Godstone,” Mrs. Robson said with tears in her eyes. “But in the first place, I don’t think I could bring myself to part with her, and in the second, I do not like to take advantage of your kindness.”
“The second reason is absurd,” Mrs. Godstone said decidedly. “Suppose instead of saving all our lives your son had helped to get out anchors and had got the ship off, he would have had his share of
the salvage, which might have come to many hundreds of pounds; and it is nonsense because he saved lives instead of goods there should be no reward for the service. As to your first reason, I can quite enter into it; and I know that I should not have liked to be parted from Mildred. Therefore I do not propose to send her away from you, but to do it in another way. To send your girl to a really good school will not cost less than a hundred a year, and that sum I shall be very glad to pay until she is of an age to leave school.
“Now, I understand that your principal reason in coming to Leigh was that your son should in time be able to sail your boat. That reason does not exist any longer, and you might therefore be as well anywhere else as here. Your brother can look after your interests in your boat, and you will get the same share of its profits as if you were living here. I think for your son’s sake as well as your daughter’s, it would be pleasanter and better that you were away from here.
“Now I am going to pay a hundred a year for your girl to be educated, but it makes no difference to me how that hundred is spent, providing she gets the education. It seems to me, therefore, that it would be better if you were to move again, say to Dulwich, where no doubt you have still friends, having lived there for so long. Then you could send her as a day-boarder in a good school for some thirty or forty pounds a year. You could still keep her with you, and have a nice home for Jack whenever he comes back from sea.
“Well, think this over. It seems to me and to Mr. Godstone to be by far the best plan for all parties. And it will be much the most pleasant to us; as I should then hope to see you often, and to see for myself how your child is getting on. Do not give an answer to me now: it will be another week before my husband can be moved up to town, so there will be plenty of time for you to look at it in all lights before you decide. I know that it will be a sacrifice for you to leave Leigh where you have so many relations and friends; but I am sure this will not weigh with you as against the interest of your children.”
So saying the ship-owner’s wife shook hands with Mrs. Robson and at once went out. Half-way down the street she met Jack.
“It is all settled, Jack,” she said, in answer to his look. “Your mother has agreed to your going.”
“Has she?” Jack exclaimed in delight. “Hurrah! Thank you so much, ma’am,” and throwing his cap in the air he caught it again, and then started home at a run at the top of his speed. Bursting in at the door he was sobered instantly by seeing his mother in tears.
“My dear mother!” he exclaimed, “don’t cry over it. Of course I should like to go to sea and always wanted it, still I would not think of doing it if it makes you unhappy. Although you did tell Mrs. Godstone that you consented, I will go off at once and tell them that I have changed my mind, and that on thinking it over I have concluded to stay here with you.”
“No, no, Jack,” his mother said, as he turned to carry his offer into effect. “It is not that at all. I am quite willing that you should go, my boy. Of course I shall miss you; but other women have to see their sons go to sea or abroad, and I shall be no worse off than they are. I am very pleased, indeed, that you should have the life you wish for open to you. There is now a far better prospect of your getting on and doing well than there was when your father consented that you should go to sea some day. I am not crying about that at all, Jack, but from pleasure, with perhaps a little pain in it, at the kind offer Mrs. Godstone has just made me with regard to Lily and myself.”
And she then told Jack the proposal that had been made to her.
“And are you going to accept it, mother? Oh, I do hope you will. I have never cared for myself, but I have sometimes been so sorry when I thought that Lily would grow up so different from what my father would have wished her.”
“And so have I, Jack. Boys are boys, and can to some extent make themselves what they like. Poor men’s sons can, if they are steady and industrious and clever, rise in the world; rich men’s sons can come down to beggary. But it is different with girls. And it always has been a great grief to me too when I have thought of Lily’s future. For myself, I do not like taking the money—that you can well believe,—but for her sake I should be very wrong to refuse the offer. I shall be sorry to leave Leigh; and yet, you see, after living for thirteen years such a different life, I do not see things as I did when I was a girl, and have blamed myself often because I have felt the difference. But I have felt it, and therefore the idea of going back to Dulwich again is not so painful to me as I think it ought to be.”
“Of course it is quite natural, mother,” Jack said; “and it would be curious if you did not feel so after living there so long and mixing with people so different in their ways. And won’t it be splendid having a nice little home like that to come back to, and Lily being educated as a lady, and I making my way on. It will be grand, mother!”
“I shall have a talk with my father and Ben,” Mrs. Robson said. “My own mind is quite made up; still I should like to speak to them before I see Mrs. Godstone again.”
Tripper senior and Ben quite agreed with Mrs. Robson that she ought to accept the offer.
“We shall be always glad to see you down here, Bessy, you know, whenever you like to come; but it is certainly best for you and the young ones for you to accept the offer. It is a grand thing for Lily; and though we shall be very sorry to lose you, it would be awfully foolish to say no to such a proposal as that.”
At heart, perhaps Tripper senior and his son were not altogether so very sorry that Bessy should go to London. They felt that she was now not one of themselves; and Tripper senior, who was much more fond of his glass than was good for him, felt her presence in Leigh as a sort of restraint upon himself, and had often informed Ben confidentially that Bessy had grown altogether too nice for him. When, therefore, Mrs. Godstone called again at the end of the week, Bessy thankfully accepted her offer, and it was settled that she should move up to London as soon as she could find a house. She would, she knew, have no difficulty in obtaining a tenant for her present residence; for houses were scarce at Leigh, and one so conveniently situated would find many eager for it as soon as it was generally known that it was to let.
Accordingly, two days after Mr. Godstone and his wife had left Leigh, Mrs. Robson went up to town with Jack, and going down to Dulwich had no difficulty in finding a little cottage that would suit them well, and to this a fortnight later they moved up with their belongings. The very day after they moved in, Jack received a letter from Captain Murchison telling him to come down on the following morning to St. Katharine Docks, as the Wild Wave had now been purchased by Mr. Godstone, and would at once be fitted out for sea.
At eight o’clock next morning Jack found himself alongside the Wild Wave, a fine barque-rigged ship of about eight hundred and fifty tons. A number of riggers were at work on board, and Captain Murchison was on the poop talking to an officer, whom Jack at once guessed to be the first mate.
“That’s right, Jack,” the captain said as the lad mounted to the poop; “nothing like getting into harness in good time. We only took possession of the barque yesterday, and have put the hands to work this morning. I thought you had better come to work at once, because there is nothing like learning things from the beginning; and if you keep your eyes open you will learn as much as to the way things should be done as you would do in six months afloat. Mr. Timmins, this is Jack Robson, who sails with us as a midshipman. He is the lad I told you of who aided in saving all our lives on board thePetrel. If it had not been for him and the two men with him the house of Godstone & Son would have lost its head. As the owner as well as myself owe so much to him, I am sure you will do all you can to help him to learn his work. He is not like a new hand altogether, having already had two years’ experience in a fore-and-aft craft. Of course the work is very different here; still it is a capital apprenticeship, and men who can manage a bawley in such a sea as was on when the Petrel was wrecked are fine sailors, and would soon be at home on any craft that ever floated.”
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p; “I will do the best I can for him, Captain Murchison, and will make a sailor out of him—never fear. There is nothing for you to do on board yet, my boy, except to keep your eyes open. Watch all that is going on. This is a rigger’s job; but it is well to learn how everything is done, because you may be called upon to do it any moment. Do not be afraid of asking me questions about anything you do not understand, and do not mind if I answer you sharp if I happen to be busy when you ask me—that is my way; and I daresay the riggers, when they see that you really want to learn, will be willing enough to give you a hint or two.”
“I am going ashore with him now for a couple of hours, Mr. Timmins. After that he will be at your disposal.”
Jack followed the captain across the gangway on to the wharf. “I am going with you to order your outfit,” the captain said. “I had intended to have done it on my own account, but Mr. Godstone would not hear of it; so I must obey orders. Your own things will do well enough until we get the riggers out of the ship and the painting done. Till then Mr. Timmins will be the only officer on board; the others will not join till she begins to take in her cargo. The second and third mates of the Petrel will sail with me again, and so will all the men who were rescued. Naturally they like a run ashore as long as they can; and there is nothing for them to do till the ship is out of the painter’s hands.”
Captain Murchison took Jack to an outfitter’s in Fenchurch Street, and ordered him a complete midshipman’s outfit. Then Jack went back to the docks, and for the rest of the day watched the operations of the riggers. With many of the processes he was already familiar, but he observed several differences in the methods pursued on board a large ship. As soon as he had come on board he had asked the first mate if there was any objection to his lending a hand if the riggers would allow him.
