Arthur Brown, The Young Captain Page 5

  CHAPTER IV.

  CAPTAIN RHINES MANIFESTS HIS GRATITUDE.

  NED and the mate now began to mend rapidly. In the enjoyment ofabundant food and rest, inhaling the bracing air of autumn, and withall the fruit they chose to eat, their sunken cheeks filled out, theflesh covered their limbs, their muscles assumed their wonted vigor,and they rapidly regained all that buoyancy which pertains to youthand high health. Mrs. Rhines, Hannah Murch, and Mrs. Ben Rhines madethem clothes. And thus arrayed, as the evenings were now getting ofconsiderable length, they went around on social visits, with Charlieand John, among the neighbors, and over to Elm Island; made friends,and won good opinions every day.

  Captain Rhines, instead of manifesting any disposition to take them toSalem in the Perseverance, as he had promised at their arrival, saidnot a word about it. Instead he seemed very earnest in laying plans,and inventing amusements to make them contented where they were. Oneday it was a gunning excursion by water; again hunting in the woods. Atanother time he wanted them to help him about some harvesting, whichthey were more than willing to do, and seemed never so happy as whenthey were doing something for their benefactor.

  The captain’s line of conduct was a sore puzzle to John and Charlie,and indeed to all the family. The Perseverance must have a new mast andwindlass before she could go to Salem. But although Charlie had madeboth, the captain would not let him put them in.

  One day Charlie, John, and Ben were together on the island, and thisfruitful subject of conjecture came up.

  “Ben,” said John, “what do you suppose the reason is father don’t takeNed and Mr. Brown home? He said, when they were first picked up, thathe would take them to Salem in the Perseverance as soon as they werefit to go. They are all right now, and want to see their folks.”

  “He seems,” said Charlie, “to have forgotten all about it. I don’tbelieve he wants to take them, for I’ve had the mast and windlass madethese three weeks, and he won’t let me put them in.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know,” said Ben. “Father ain’t like most old folks.He likes to have young people around him. Mother says he talks hoursand hours with Brown. Perhaps he don’t like to lose their company. Ifyou want to know, Charlie, why don’t you and John ask him?”

  “I don’t like to.”

  “Well, get Uncle Isaac to. He will ask in a moment; indeed, if there’sa special reason, I’ll warrant he knows it now.”

  “What seems more singular to me,” said Charlie, “is, that after tellinghow much he thought of Arthur’s father and mother, how much he waswilling to do for his children, even to cut the last piece of bread intwo, that he don’t _do something_—build him a vessel. I have got outboard and ceiling plank at the mill, and deck plank all sawed out. Itwould be a capital time now to get a frame and set her up this fall,let her season through the winter, finish her in the summer, and righer before cold weather.”

  “Benjamin,” said Uncle Isaac (as they shot into a thickly wooded coveto rest their backs, on their way home from a fowling excursion),laying his paddle across the float, and leaning both elbows on it, “whydon’t you take these boys home? they want to go.”

  “Do they want to go?”

  “To be sure. Isn’t it natural they should want to see their parents andfriends, after being at death’s door?”

  “But their parents know they are comfortable, and they hear from eachother every week.”

  “That isn’t like seeing them. There’s another thing; the boys want tobuild a vessel for this young man, and so does Ben.”

  “Ben wants to, does he?”

  “Yes.”

  “Hum.”

  “He seems to be a nice, steady, well-informed young man.”

  “Is that the way it strikes you, Isaac?”

  “Yes.”

  “The fact is, Isaac,” beginning to pick the leaves of a beech limb,which hung over the float, and chew them up, “I am ready and willing,and count it a privilege to do all I can for this boy, and his father’sfamily; but whether building a vessel, and putting him in her, is the_best_ way to do it, I am not clear.”

  While they were engaged in this conversation, the boat had driftedunder the limbs of a birch, that had never regained its uprightposition after being bent down by the ice and snow of the previouswinter.

  “What have you got that’s good in that red box, Isaac?”

  “I’ve got a chicken, boiled eggs, bread, butter, cheese, anddoughnuts,” he replied, placing the box on the middle thwart of theboat, and removing the cover.

  “There’s something to wash it down,” said the captain, unrolling a jug,carefully wrapped in the folds of his long jacket. “That’s some of thecoffee I brought home in the Ark; it’s warm, too. We might as well eatnow as any time, for by the tide it can’t be far from noon.”

  Uncle Isaac twisted one of the long, slender limbs of the birch intoa string, and making it fast to a thole-pin hole, it held the boatstationary, while the two friends, sitting face to face in the warmsunshine, gossipped and ate; and having eaten nothing since threeo’clock that morning, evidently enjoyed the repast, the warm sunshine,and the sheltered nook, so highly as to wish to prolong the pleasure,and ate very deliberately, till the meal was brought to an abrupttermination by the entire consumption of the contents of both box andjug.

  “We were speaking, Isaac,” said the captain, “about this young man,and about building him a vessel. If I was able to build him one, fither for sea, load her, and say to him, ‘Here, my boy, take her, and dothe best you can for yourself and me;’ and then if he made a ‘funger,’pocket the loss, I would lay the keel to-morrow. But in doing that, Imust be concerned with others, and risk other people’s money. Here areBen, Fred, John, and Charlie, all ready to strike, only waiting for meto say the word; and Mr. Welch would take hold in a moment if I shouldsay to him, ‘Here is a young man, who I think capable, wants a vesselbuilt.’ Now, how do I know he is capable of taking charge of a vesseland managing business in these squally times, with the English andFrench pitching into our commerce, and pirates to boot? A master of avessel must have grit and cool judgment—qualities that don’t alwaysnor often go together. He’s very young, has been only one voyage andpart of another as mate; of course has had but little experience. Somemen make first-rate mates, but poor masters; others poor mates, butexcellent masters. Then, if he should make a losing voyage of it, Ishould feel very bad, and the rest (though they did not say it) mightfeel that they had been brought into difficulties, and lost moneythrough me.”

  “He is as old, and has had as much experience as Isaac had when hebecame master. You was keen enough for putting him ahead; far more thanI was, though he is my own nephew, and has done splendidly. This youngman has had the best of schooling, and ten times the privileges Isaacever had.”

  “_Schooling! privileges!_” cried the captain; “I wouldn’t give _that_(snapping his fingers) for the schooling and privileges. What do theyamount to, if the man hasn’t got _Indian suet_,—hasn’t got thearticles in him? They _help_, but they can’t put anything _into_ a man.I knew Isaac from the egg. I watched him as he grew up. There’s a greatdeal in the _blood_. I knew the breed he came of, both sides. He sailedwith me. I taught him, and knew him through and through,—knew he hadthe root of the matter in him. But in regard to this young man, I knowonly the father. If he takes after his father in mind, as he does inlooks, he will be all right. But he may look like the father, and takeafter the mother. I don’t know anything about her or her people.”

  “You mean to help him, don’t you?”

  “Reckon I do, if my life is spared. But I could help him withoutbuilding him a vessel, or involving other folks. I might give him acouple of thousand dollars in cash, and let him help himself; or sayto him, ‘Arthur, go to Salem; see if some of your father’s friends,and the people you’ve sailed for, won’t build you a vessel. I’ll takean eighth or a fourth.’ I can help the mother,—that will be my ownconcern, and nobody’s business,—and I shan’t involve others, and r
isktheir hard earnings.”

  “But he’s been here some time. You’ve had him in your house all thetime, with opportunities for talking with him, and making up your mind.What do you think?”

  “I think well of him. I like him all round, think him capable, and, totell the truth, that is what I’ve been backing and filling for so long,and keeping the boys back. I wanted _time_ to make up my mind, and haveyou and the neighbors see and get acquainted with him, and find whatyou all thought of him.”

  “As far as my opinion is worth anything, I shouldn’t hesitate a moment.There’s one little thing just settles the matter in my mind.”

  “What is that, Isaac?”

  “Why, his sticking by that captain. Here is a crew of men, thesweepings of Liverpool; they take the boats, compass, and otherinstruments, and shove off,—they’ve had trouble with the captain, andare down on him, and mean to have their revenge,—leaving him to shiftfor himself; the mate they like, and offer to take him with them—evencoax him to go; they have provision, water, and instruments, and arenot overloaded. In the boats, there’s no great risk; to remain, isalmost certain death. He is under no particular obligations to thecaptain, who is an Englishman and a stranger, yet he sticks by him,because he thinks it his duty. If _that_ ain’t pluck, principle, andChristianity,—if that ain’t real manhood, I wonder where you’d findit! There’s not one man in a hundred—no, not in a thousand—_would_or _could_ have done it. And, Benjamin, ‘twill take a great deal tomake me believe that a man who has got all _that_ in him hasn’t all theother qualities that go to make up a man.”

  “It’s just what his father would have done. Well, Isaac, I’ll take themto Salem. I’m acquainted there; have an old shipmate that knew hisfather. I’ll see the captain he’s been mate with, and if they speakwell of him, we’ll go ahead.”

  “John,” said his father, on his return home, “clap the saddle on thehorse, ride over to Charlie’s, and tell him he may get the schoonerready as soon as he likes; and tell Fred to get his fish and potashready, for I’m going to Salem, and will take a freight to Boston, andbring back any goods he wants.”

  Captain Folger was sitting in his store just before noon, frequentlylooking at his watch, for the demands of appetite were pressing,—hehad set up a ship-chandler’s store, after having spent the greaterpart of life at sea,—when Captain Rhines entered, and most agreeablysurprised him.

  “Why, Captain Ben!” exclaimed the old seaman, grasping his friend bythe hand, “what good wind has blown you hither?”

  “I had business in Boston, and so called in here. It’s long since we’vemet. I hardly thought you’d know me so readily.”

  “_Know_ you! Old shipmates don’t forget each other.”

  “So you’ve left off going to sea, and turned storekeeper!”

  “Yes; it’s the most natural thing an old shipmaster can do to turnship-chandler, and have vessels and rigging to look after. I couldn’tbe contented ashore in any other business. I own some navigation,and have that to look after. My shop is a loafing place for the oldcaptains, and we fight our battles over again, spin our yarns, planvoyages, and keep each other’s spirits up. We heard about your goingto Cuba on a raft, and it was agreed on all hands it was the smartestthing ever done in these parts, or anywhere. You ran a confounded risk,but they say you made your Jack out of it.”

  “Yes, I made _something_.”

  “You knew Captain Brown, Arthur, who was lost on Abaco?”

  “_Knew_ him! I guess I did. He was the means of putting me intobusiness.”

  “He was the means of putting a great many into business.”

  “Do you know his son?”

  “What, young Arthur?”

  “Yes.”

  “To be sure. We’ve been much worried about him. The vessel he was infoundered, but he has been picked up, so his mother tells me.”

  “I picked him up, and brought him here not two hours ago. What kind ofa young man is he?”

  “As fine a one as ever the sun shone upon; he is thought a great dealof here, both upon his father’s account and his own.”

  “Is there business in him, or only goodness?”

  “Both; as much of one as the other.”

  “Do you know Captain Bates, who he was mate with?”

  “Yes.”

  “Will you introduce me to him?”

  “Yes; he’ll be in here about two o’clock, with half a dozen more oldweb feet, that you know, or who have heard of you, and we’ll have ajolly time of it. But come,” looking at his watch, “it is grub time; goup to the house; you belong to me while you are here.”

  “I will dine with you; but I made an engagement with young Brown tomeet me here at five o’clock, and I am to take tea with him.”

  Captain Rhines met Captain Bates at three o’clock, who, in reply tohis questions in relation to young Brown, replied, “If you’ve got afrigate, give it to him.” When Arthur came, according to appointment,Ned Gates came with him.

  “Captain Rhines,” said Ned, “father and mother want you to come to ourhouse, and stop with us while you are here.”

  “He’s going to stay with us,” said Arthur.

  “No, he ain’t,” said Captain Folger; “he belongs to me. He can go tosupper with Arthur, and he can dine to-morrow with you, Ned; but we areold shipmates, and the rest of the time he belongs to me.”

  Captain Rhines, while at Mrs. Brown’s, proposed that the whole familyshould go down and live with him. But Mrs. Brown, who was a capable,energetic woman, many years younger than her husband, would by no meansconsent. She told him, in reply, that her daughters were doing well intheir store; that though her husband left her no money, he had leftthe house clear of debt. That his nephew was learning a trade, and shewas doing well keeping boarders, and could not consent, by any means,to live upon him, as she could not be happy in so doing; but as he hadannounced his intentions of helping Arthur to a vessel, she should feelunder the greatest obligations.

  Before leaving, he compelled her to accept a check upon Mr. Welchfor two thousand dollars, made the girls a present of five hundredmore, and a hundred to George Ferguson, the nephew, without which, hedeclared, he could not sleep nights.

  Having accomplished this, he felt quite satisfied and happy; and beganto talk with Arthur in relation to the intended vessel.

  “What kind of a vessel do you want, Arthur, and what trade do you wantto go into?”

  “I should prefer, sir, always with submission to your better judgment,a sharp vessel, that will outsail the English cruisers, run thegantlet, and carry provisions and supplies to France. There will berisk, but I have an idea there will be corresponding profit.”

  “That’s the talk, my boy,” cried the captain, delighted with a proposalso congenial to his own hardy and enterprising nature. “I only wish Iwas young enough to go into it myself. Now, if there’s a man in theseUnited States that can build a clipper that will show a clean pair ofheels to anything that swims, that man is Charles Bell.”

  It was just after dinner, of a pleasant afternoon, Charlie and his wifewere seated in the sun, in the barn-door, husking corn, the sharp clickof a horse’s feet that overreached was heard.

  “That’s father,” said Mary. “I know the click of the mare’s shoes.”

  “Charlie!” shouted the captain, never stopping, till the mare’s feetstruck the heap of corn in the floor, sending the kernels in Mary’sface, “grind your broad-axe. Arthur Brown wants a vessel that will showher heels to the English frigates, run the blockade, and make the sweatstand on a dolphin’s nose to keep up.”

  “I am thankful,” cried Charlie, delighted, “that after so long a timeI am to build something that is not a box.”

  “You can’t find a better model than the Hard-scrabble.”

  “Than the Hard-scrabble?”

  “No; she sails well when she is light, and with a free wind in ballast,Isaac says there’s nothing will catch her. Just give her more depth,so she can hold on, and put the sail on
her, and I tell you she wouldstreak it. You must have breadth to carry sail.”

  “Well, I’ll do the best I can.”