A SEA-CAPTAIN RELATES HIS ADVENTURES, AND REFUSES TO DRAW MORALS
Captain Richard Millet, like his sister,
was rather eccentric. Unlike her, however, he
was large, broad, and powerful. It would have
taken considerably more than “half a gale”
to blow him away. Even a gale and a half
might have failed to do that.
“Glad to meet you,” he
said, extending his solid-looking hand with a frank,
hearty air, on being introduced to Jeff. “My
sister Molly has often spoken of you. Sorry
to hear you’ve left the sea. Great mistake,
young man great mistake. There’s
no school like the sea for teaching a man his dependence
on his Maker.”
“The school is not very successful,
if one may judge from the character of most of its
pupils,” replied the youth.
“Perhaps you misjudge their
character,” returned the captain, with a look
of good-natured severity.
“I’m sure he does,”
cried Miss Millet, with enthusiasm. “Noble-hearted,
simple men, who would probably never go wrong at all
if it were not for their unsuspecting trustfulness
and bad companions! Come, sit down, Dick.
Tea is ready.”
“Yes, young man,” continued
Captain Millet “you misjudge ’em.
You should not judge of a school by the shouting
and mischief of the worst boys, who always flaunt
their colours, while the good ones steer quietly on
their course. You’ll understand that better
when your beard is grey. Youth is fond o’
lookin’ at the surface, an’ so is apt to
misjudge the character of men as well as the ways
of Providence.”
Jeff took the rebuke in good part,
readily admitted that youth was prone to err, and
slily expressed a hope that in his case coming in contact
with age might do him good.
“If you mean that for a shot
at me,” cried the captain, with a loud guffaw,
“you’ve missed the mark; for I’m
only forty-five, an’ that isn’t age; is
it, Molly?”
“Of course not. Why, you’re
little more than a baby yet,” replied Miss Millet
who greatly enjoyed even a small joke indeed,
she enjoyed almost everything, more or less, that
was not wicked. “But now, Dick, I want
you to tell Jeff some of your adventures in foreign
parts especially those that have a moral,
you know.”
“Why, Molly, that’s a
hard job you don’t want me to draw
the moral, do you? I never was good at that,
though I’ve known fellows with that peculiar
cast o’ brain as could draw a moral out of a
marline-spike if they were hard put to it. Seems
to me that it’s best to let morals draw themselves.
For instance, that time when I was wrecked on the
South American coast, I came to a shallow river, an’
had to wade across, but was too lazy to pull off my
boots, ’cause they were long fisherman’s
boots, right up to the hip an’ rather tight;
so in I went boots an’ all. Just as I was
gettin’ to the other side, a most awful alligator
seized hold o’ my right foot. It’s
wonderful how easy my boot came off just then!
Although I was used to tug, an’ shove, and gasp,
and pull, at that boot of a night, no sooner did the
alligator lay hold on it than my leg came out like
a cork out of a bottle, and I was out o’ the
water and up the bank like a squirrel. Now,
Molly, what would you say was the moral that should
be drawn from that Never use an alligator
as a boot-jack eh?”
“I should say, Never wade across
a South American river without your boots on,”
suggested Jeff.
“Well, now, I should
say, Never wade across a South American river at all,”
said Miss Millet; “but, brother, that’s
not what I meant. Before you arrived, Jeff and
I had been talking about God’s ways with man,
and I was trying to show that disasters and what we
call misfortunes are not necessarily evil, but are
often the means of great blessing. I don’t
think Jeff quite sees that. I can’t explain
myself clearly, brother; but you know what I mean.”
While the old lady was speaking, the
captain had become thoughtful.
“Yes, I know what you mean,”
he replied, “and I agree with you heartily.
Is it not written of our Saviour, `He hath done all
things well?’ and is He not unchangeable?
Of course it is not to be expected that we shall
always see through and understand His ways though we
can always trust Him; but sometimes He lifts a corner
of the veil and lets us see. Very odd, Molly,”
continued the captain, extracting a large black pocket-book
with some difficulty from a breast-pocket, “very
odd that you should have touched on this question,
for I have somethin’ to say to you that bears
on it. Look here. What’s that?”
He handed an oblong piece of paper
to his sister, who examined it slowly.
“Why, Dick, it’s a cheque for 500 pounds.”
“Just so, old girl, an’ it’s yours.”
“Mine!”
“Ay, I might have given it to
you when I first came back, but I took a fancy to
keep it as a little surprise for our last evenin’
together, so that I might leave you with a good taste
in your mouth. Now, listen, an’ I’ll
spin you an’ Jeff a yarn. But first fill
up my cup. I’m fond o’ tea nat’rally,
bein’ a teetotaler. Up to the brim, Molly;
I like a good bucketful. Thankee now,
let me see.”
The captain put his hand to his rugged
brow, became thoughtful for a few moments, and then
resumed.
“Just before startin’
on my last voyage to China I ran down to Folkestone
to see Rosebud that’s my little daughter,
Jeff. Surely you must have seen her when knocking
about here?”
“You forget, Captain, I have
not been in these parts for six years. Nevertheless,
I did see Rosebud some ten or twelve years ago with
her nurse in this very room.”
“Yes, so you did,” chimed
in Miss Millet. “She was six at that time,
and the dearest little angel I ever saw.”
“She was all that and a great
deal more,” said the enthusiastic father.
“It don’t become me to have much of an
opinion about the angels, but I wouldn’t give
my Rosebud for the whole lot o’ them, an’
all the cherubs throw’d into the bargain.
Well, as I was sayin’, I ran down to Folkestone
to the school where she is, and as we were partin’
she made me promise when I got to Hong-Kong to run
up the river to see an old schoolmate o’ hers
that had gone out there with her father. I was
to give Clara Rosebud’s dear love, and her photograph,
and get hers in exchange. I would have done
this, of course, for my darlin’, anyhow, but
I promised all the more readily because I had some
business to do with old Nibsworth, the father.
“Well, after I’d got to
Hong-Kong an’ seen the ship all snug, I thought
of runnin’ up the river in a small steamer that
was ready to start. It so happened that I got
a letter that very day from Nibsworth himself, who
had heard of my arrival, askin’ me to come without
delay, as there was a grand chance of doin’
a bit of business that might turn in some thousands
of pounds. But it would have to be settled next
day, or the chance would be lost. You may be
sure I didn’t waste time after readin’
this, but when I got to the river-side, I found that
the steamer had started, and there wasn’t another
till next mornin’.”
“What a pity!”
exclaimed the sympathetic sister and Jeff in the same
breath.
“Yes, wasn’t it?
Of course it wasn’t a personal loss, but it
was the loss of a splendid out-o’-the-way chance
to do a good turn to the owners. It was an ill
wind Jeff, almost a disaster. Hows’ever,
I had to grin an’ bear it. But I couldn’t
rest till next day; so I hired a native boat, determined
to do my best in the circumstances, and you may be
sure I wasn’t in the best of humours, as we went
creepin’ slowly up that river, when I knew that
the hours of opportunity were slippin’ away.
“It was not till the evenin’
o’ the next day that I reached old Nibsworth’s
house. Just before we rounded the bend of the
river that brought it into view, I noticed smoke risin’
pretty thick above the trees. Of course I thought
nothin’ of it till I found that it was the old
man’s house was a-fire! Didn’t we
bend to the oars then with a will!
“As we drew near, we found that
all the servants and work-people about the place were
runnin’ here and there, shoutin’ and yellin’
for ropes and ladders. Most people seem to lose
their heads in a fire. Anyhow those people had;
for nobody could find a ladder long enough to reach
a top window, where I could see that someone was waving
his arms for help. The moment we touched the
beach, I jumped out o’ the boat and ran up to
the house. It was blazin’ fiercely in the
lower rooms, and I soon found that old Nibsworth and
his daughter were inside driven to the attics
by the fire and smoke. They soon left the window
where I had first seen the arms waving, and threw
open another that was further from the fire.
“I saw that the old man was
frail. The girl, they told me, was delicate.
`Get straw, hay, branches anything soft,’
I shouted, `an’ pile ’em under the window.’
“`Him’s too weak for jump,’ gasped
a native servant.
“`Do as I bid ye,’ said
I, with a glare that sent ’em all off double-quick.
Happily I found a rope handy in a storehouse hard
by. I made a coil of it. You know a seaman
can usually heave a coil of rope pretty well.
I made a splendid heave, an’ sent it right in
at the window. The old man caught it.
“`Make fast to a bed-post,’
I roared, `or a table, or chest o’ drawers
anything big.’
“He understood me, I could see,
and presently he looked over the window an’
shook his head. Then I could see the face of
a dark-haired, beautiful girl. Even through
the increasing smoke I could tell that she was deadly
pale, and drew back with a shudder. By this time
a big pile of straw lay under the window. I
saw there was no hope of such an old man lettin’
himself or his girl down by a rope, so up I went hand
over hand. Many a time had I done the sort o’
thing for a lark when I was a youngster; but bein’
out o’ practice, and a good deal heavier than
in old days, I found it hard work, I can tell you.
Hows’ever, I managed it and got in at the window,
an’ didn’t my heart give a jump when I
saw that the old chap had only made the rope fast
to a light bedroom chair. If I’d bin a
stone heavier, I’d have pulled that chair right
over the window!
“`God bless you!’ cried
the tremblin’ old man; `save my Clara!’
“There was no time for pretty
speeches. I made fast the end of the rope to
the leg of a table, made a loop on the other end, threw
it over the girl, caught her round the waist an’
swung her over the window. I was in such a hurry
that the rope nearly took the skin off my hands; but
I landed her safe on the straw below. The old
man was heavier, and not so easy to manage; but I
got him lowered safe, and then, slipping over myself,
began to descend. The flames had by that time
got headway, and were dartin’ like fiery serpents’
tongues out o’ the windows below. One
o’ them gave me a wipe in passin’, an’
cleared eyelashes, eyebrows, and half the hair o’
my head away. Another twined round the rope and
singed it; so that when I was half-way down, it snapped,
and I came to the ground with a thud that damaged
my canvas ducks, though they were by no means delicate.
Hows’ever, the pile of straw broke the fall,
and I was none the worse.
“The gratitude o’ that
poor old man and his daughter knew no bounds, specially
when he found I was the father of his Clara’s
favourite schoolmate.
“`Now, Captain Millet,’
says he at partin’, `nothin’ in this world
can repay what we owe you. I know it would be
insultin’ to offer you money for such service,
but sometimes men like you like to help a good cause.
Will you accept of five hundred pounds for such a purpose?’
“`No sir,’ says I, `I
won’t! But I’ve a sister at home
who spends all her time in tryin’ to do good.
If you’ll be kind enough to send it to her,
she’ll consider it a blessed windfall, and will
lay it out to the best possible advantage.’
“`Good,’ said he, seizin’
his pen an’ writin’ out the cheque. `Is
your sister well off?’
“`She might be better off,’ said I.
“`Then pray beg her in my name
to accept of a few shares in an Australian tin-mine
which came to me a few days ago. They are not
worth much, but I don’t want to be troubled
with them; indeed, will consider it a favour if she
will take them off my hands.’
“The old fellow said this with
a laugh so there you are, Molly, 500 pounds
to the credit of your charity account an’ I don’t
know how much tin transferred to your own.”
“O brother, how good how
kind!” Miss Millet paused here, and gazed in
silence at the cheque, for she had already begun to
calculate how far that sum would go towards the library,
and the church, and the town-hall, and the model-houses,
and the gymnasium, and the swimming-bath.
“And now, young man,”
said the captain, turning to our coastguardsman, “the
missin’ of that steamer, at which I growled so
much that day, turned out to be a great blessin’
after all, although it seemed such a misfortune.
For it caused me to arrive just in the nick of time
to save two human lives besides givin’
the old girl here somethin’ to think about and
work upon for the next twelvemonth to come whereas,
if I had arrived the day before, I would have bin
sleepin’ in the house, and mayhap have bin burnt
alive wi’ old Nibsworth and his daughter.
Seems to me as if that little story had some sort
o’ bearin’ on the subject you was discussin’
wi’ Molly. But I’m not good at drawin’
morals, so I’ll leave you to draw it for yourself.”