"Very well, Miss Ruth. Go on."
"But before I go on tell me how are the Miss Seawards?"
"Quite well, I believe. At least I have no reason to think otherwise.
Rather thinnish if anything, but filled out wonderfully since I first
saw 'em."
"That's good," said Ruth, laughing. "And now, do you know why I asked
you to go and lodge with them?"
"Well, I always thought it was because you knew I wanted a lodgin',
though I confess it has puzzled me to make out why you wanted me to come
to such an out-o'-the-way part o' the city; and, to tell you the truth,
it _is_ rather inconvenient, but your letter was so urgent, Miss Ruth,
that I knew you must have some good reason, and as your dear father's
daughter has a right to command me, I obeyed, as you know, without
question."
"You are a good old man," returned Ruth, laying her hand on the brown
fist of the captain and looking up in his face with the same loving
girlish look that she had bestowed on him many a time in years past on
his frequent visits with foreign toys, "and I shall test your goodness a
good deal before I have done with you."
"Test away, Miss Ruth. You'll find I can stand a good deal of testin'.
I haven't sailed the salt sea for forty years for nothing."
"Well then," said Ruth, looking slightly perplexed again. "What would
you do, Captain Bream, if you knew of two ladies who were unable to
work, or to find suitable work, and so poor as to be literally
starving--what would you do?"
"Give 'em money, of course."
"But suppose that, owing to some delicacy of feeling, or, perhaps, some
sort of mistaken pride, they would not accept money, and flushed very
much and felt hurt, if you ventured to offer it to them?"
"Why, then, I'd send 'em victuals."
"But suppose," continued Ruth, "that there were great difficulties in
the way of doing that, and they felt as much objection to receive
gratuitous victuals as money, what would you do then? you would not let
them starve, would you?"
"Of course not," returned the captain, promptly. "If it fairly came to
that I'd be apt to treat 'em as nurses do obstinate infants and castor
oil. I'd take 'em on my knee, force open their mouths, and shove the
victuals down their throats."
Ruth burst into a merry little laugh at this.
"But," said she, "don't you think that before proceeding to such
forcible treatment you might scheme a little to get them to take it
willingly, as nurses sometimes disguise the taste of the oil with coffee
or milk?"
"Well, you _might_ scheme a little on that sort of principle, Miss Ruth;
but in ordinary cases I prefer straightforward plans myself."
"Then why, let me ask," said Ruth with some severity in her look, "do
you dare to scheme with the wind as you and all sailors do when it is
dead against you?"
"You're becomin' too deep for me now, my dear; what d'ee mean?"
"When the wind blows dead against you, say from the north," replied
Ruth, "don't you begin your naughty--at least your nautical--scheming at
once? Don't you lay your course to the nor'-west and pretend you are
going in that direction, and then don't you soon tack about--isn't that
what you call it--and steer nor'-east, pretending that you are going
_that_ way, when all the time you are wanting to go due north? What do
you call that, sir, if it is not scheming to circumvent the wind?"
While she was speaking, Captain Bream's smile expanded and broke forth
at last in one of his bass broadsides of laughter, which gave Ruth great
delight for she had, as a little girl, enjoyed these thunderous laughs
excessively, and her taste for them had not departed.
"Well, my dear," said her visitor, "I admit that there are some sorts o'
fair-an'-above-board schemin' which ain't dishonourable, or unworthy of
a British sailor."
"Very good," returned Ruth; "then listen while I reveal some of my
recent scheming. Some time ago I found out that two very dear friends
of mine--who were in delicate health and quite unable to work hard, as
well as being unable to find any kind of work whatever--were on the
point of starvation. They would not accept money. I schemed a little
to get them to earn money, but it was not easy, and the result was not a
sufficiently permanent income. At last I thought I would try to get
them a boarder--a somewhat rich boarder, whose powerful appetite and
large meals might leave some crumbs for--"
"You don't mean to tell me, Miss Ruth," interrupted the captain, in
amazement, "that the Miss Seawards were in a state of starvation when I
went to 'em!"
"Indeed I do," replied Ruth; "at least as nearly in that state as was
compatible with existence."
"Well, well," said the captain, "no wonder they looked so thin; and no
wonder they're beginnin' to be a little better in flesh now, wi' the
legs o' mutton an' chops an' such like things that I get in to take the
edge off my appetite--which, as you justly observe, Miss Ruth, is not a
bad one. I'm glad you've told me this, however, for I'll go in for
extra heavy feedin' now."
"That's right. But stay, Captain Bream, I have not nearly done with my
scheming yet. And I shall still want you to help me."
"Go ahead, my dear. I'm your man, for, to tell 'ee the downright truth,
I've taken a great fancy to these two sisters, an' would steer a long
way out o' my course to help 'em."
"I knew you would," returned Ruth with a little look of triumph.
"Whoever comes in contact with these dear friends of mine thinks exactly
as you do. Now, their health is not nearly as good as it ought to be,
so I want them to have a change of air. You see, the poor little street
in which they live is not the freshest in London."
"Exactly so. They want a trip to Brighton or Broadstairs or Ramsgate,
and a whiff of fresh sea-air, eh?" said the captain with a look of
satisfaction.
"No not to these places," said Ruth; "I thought of Yarmouth."
"Well, Yarmouth--just as good. Any part o' the coast will do to blow
the London cobwebs out o' their brains--say Yarmouth."
"Very good, captain, but my difficulty is, how to manage it."
"Nothing easier, Miss Ruth. I will take an afternoon train, run down,
hire a lodgin', come up to-morrow, an' carry the Miss Seawards off wi'
me."
"But suppose they won't go?"
"But they must go. I'm quite able to take up one under each arm an'
carry 'em off by force if they won't."
"I would highly approve of that method, captain, if it were possible,
but I'm afraid such things are not permitted in this free country. No,
if done at all, the thing must be gone about with a little more care and
delicacy."
"Well then, I'll go down an' take a lodgin', an' write up and ask them
to pay me a visit for the benefit of their health."
Ruth shook her pretty little head and frowned.
"Won't do," she said. "I know them too well. They're so unselfish that
they won't budge a step to benefit themselves."
"H'm! I see, Miss Ruth, we want a little scheming here--eh? Well, I'll
manage it. You leave this little matter in my hands, and see if I don't
get 'em to visit Yarmouth, by hook or by crook. By the way, Miss Ruth,
was it one o' your little schemes, givin' 'em these mitts and comforters
to make?"
"Of course it was," Ruth replied with a laugh and a blush. "You see
these things are really very much wanted by the North sea fishermen, and
a great many benevolent women spend much time in knitting for them--and
not only women, but also boys."
"Boys!" echoed the captain in surprise--"boys knit mitts and
comforters?"
"Yes. I assure you that the telegraph boys of the Notting Hill branch
of the Post-office have actually spent some of their spare time in doing
this work."
"I'll look upon telegraph boys with more respect ever after this," said
the captain with emphasis.
"Well, as I was saying," continued Ruth, "Mamma bought far more worsted
for me than I could ever find time to work up into mitts or comforters,
so I have employed the Miss Seawards to do it for me--at so much a pair.
But they don't know it's for me, so be careful not to--"
"Yes, yes, I see--more scheming. Well, I'll take care not to blab."
"And I sent the worsted and arranged the transaction through such a dear
pretty little fisher-boy from Yarmouth. But perhaps you have seen him
at your lodging."
"No, I haven't seen him, but I've heard a good deal about him. The
ladies seem to be as much impressed with his sweetness and prettiness as
yourself, Miss Ruth. For my part, I'm not over fond o' sweet pretty
boys. I prefer 'em rough-cast or even ugly, so long's they're smart an'
willin'."
"Oh! but you have no idea what a smart and willing boy he is," said
Ruth, firing up in defence of her little friend. "I assure you he is
most willing and intelligent, and I do believe he would scratch his face
and twist his little nose into a screw if by so doing he could make
himself ugly, for I have observed that he is terribly annoyed when
people call him pretty--as they often foolishly do."
"Well, I'll be off now on this little business," said the captain,
rising and smoothing his hat with his cuff. "But--but--Miss Ruth--
excuse me, you said something about sending the Miss Seawards a _rich_
lodger when you sent me. How d'ee know I'm rich?"
"Well, I only guessed it," returned Ruth with a laugh, "and, you know,
more than once you have hinted to me that you had got on very well--that
God had prospered you--I think these were the words you have sometimes
used."
"These are the words I would always use," returned the captain. "The
prosperity that has attended me through life I distinctly recognise at
being the result of God's will, not of my wisdom. Don't we see that the
cleverest of men sometimes fail, and, on the other hand, the most stupid
fellows sometimes succeed? It is God that setteth up one and putteth
down another."
"I'm glad to hear that you think so clearly on this point, captain,
though I did not know it before. It is another bond between us.
However, if I have been wrong in supposing you to be rich, I--"
"Nay, I did not deny it, Miss Ruth, but it does not follow that a man
means to say he is rich when he says that he has got on very well.
However, my dear, I don't mind tellin' you, as a secret that I _am_
rich--as rich, that is, as there's any use to be, an' far richer than I
deserve to be. You must know," continued the captain, sinking his voice
to a hoarse whisper, "that your dear father used to allow me to put my
savin's into his hands for investment, and the investments succeeded so
well that at last I found myself in possession of five hundred a year!"
Captain Bream said this with much deliberation and an emphatic nod for
each word, while he gazed solemnly in Ruth's face. "Not a bad fortune
for an old bachelor, eh? Then," he continued, after a moment's pause,
"when I was wrecked, two years ago in Australia, I took a fancy to have
a look at the gold diggin's, so off I went to Bendigo, and I set to work
diggin' for the mere fun o' the thing, and the very first day I turned
up a nugget as big as my fist and two of the same sort the day after,
an' then a lot o' little ones; in fact I had got hold of a first-rate
claim, an' when I had dug away for a month or so I put it all in a big
chest, sold the claim, and came straight home, bringin' the chest with
me. I have it now, up in my cabin yonder. It well-nigh broke my back
gittin' it up the stair, though my back ain't a weak one."
"And how much is the gold worth?" eagerly asked Ruth, who had listened
with a sympathetic expression on her face.
"That's more than I can tell. I scarce know how to go about convertin'
it into cash; but I'm in no hurry. Now mind, Miss Ruth, not a word o'
this to any livin' soul. Not even to your own mother, for she ain't
_my_ mother, d'ee see, an' has no right to know it. In fact I've never
told it to any one till this day, for I have no one in the wide world to
care about it. Once, indeed, I had--"
He stopped short.
"Ah! you are thinking of your sister?" said the sympathetic Ruth; "the
sister whom you once told me about long ago."
"Yes, Miss Ruth, I _was_ thinkin' o' her; but--" He stopped again.
"Do tell me about her," said Ruth, earnestly. "Has she been long dead?"
"Dead! my dear. I didn't say she was dead, an' yet it ain't unlikely
she is, for it's long, long since I heard of her. There's not much to
tell about her after all," said the captain, sadly. "But she was a dear
sweet little girl at the time--just turned eighteen--an' very fond o'
me. We had no parents living, an' no kindred except one old aunt, with
whom my sister lived. I was away at the time on a long voyage, and had
to take a cargo from the East Indies to China before returnin' home. At
Hongkong I fell ill, an' was laid up there for months. Altogether a
good many troubles came on me at that time--though they were blessed
troubles to me, for they ended in the saving o' my soul through my eyes
bein' opened to see my sins and Jesus Christ as my Saviour. It was
three years before I set foot in England again, and when I got back I
found that my old aunt was dead, and that my dear sister had married a
seaman and gone away--no one knew where."
"And you've never heard of her since?" asked Ruth.
"Never."
"And don't know who she married?"
"Know nothin' more about her, my dear, than I've told 'ee. Good-bye
now, Miss Ruth. I must look sharp about this business of yours."
He showed such evident disinclination to continue the painful subject,
that Ruth forbore to press it, and they parted to prosecute their
respective schemes.