IN THE MISSION BOAT ON THE THAMES--THE DAMPING OF THE BODY CANNOT DAMP
THE ARDENT SPIRIT.
Next morning Captain Bream accompanied the lay-missionary to Gravesend,
where they took a boat and put off to the emigrant ship.
Great was the captain's satisfaction to find that his companion had been
a sailor, and could talk to him--in nautical language too--about
seafaring matters and distant climes.
"It is a good work in which you are engaged," he said; "are you going to
preach to 'em?"
"No, only to distribute Testaments, tracts, and good books--though I may
preach if I get the chance. My work lies chiefly among emigrants and
boat and barge men, but I also do a good deal among regular sailors."
"Ah! That's the work that _I'm_ fond of," said the captain, with
enthusiasm. "Of course I don't mean to say that the soul of a sailor is
of more value than that of any other man, but I lean to sailors
naturally, havin' been among 'em the greater part of my life. I've done
a little myself in the way of preachin' to 'em."
"Have you?" exclaimed the missionary, with a pleased look.
And from this point the two men went off into a confidential and
animated talk about their varied experiences on the sea of spiritual
work, on which they had both been launched, while the boatman--an old
and evidently sympathetic man--pulled them to the vessel which lay at
some distance from the place of embarkation.
While the two friends--for such they had become by that time--were
chatting thus with each other, a little accident was in store for
Captain Bream, which not only disarranged his plans, but afterwards
considerably affected his career.
Having reached the age of sixty years, our captain was not quite as
active in body as he had once been. He was, however, quite as active in
heart and mind, besides having much of the fire of youth still burning
in him. Hence he was apt at times to forget his body in the impulsive
buoyancy of his spirit. An instance of this forgetfulness occurred that
day. The missionary paid a passing visit to a vessel on their way to
the emigrant ship. Having run alongside, Captain Bream put his foot on
the first step of the ladder, with intent to mount the vessel's side.
"Have a care, sir," said the old boatman, who was assisting him with
some anxiety.
It may be that the captain's too youthful spirit spurned assistance, or
that he had miscalculated the powers of his too ancient body, for at the
moment his foot slipped while as yet his hold of the man-ropes was not
secure, and he fell with a lion-like roar that might have shamed the
stoutest king of the African forests.
It was not a cry of fear, still less was it a shout for help. It seemed
rather like an effervescing roar of indignant surprise.
The boatman held up his arms to catch the unfortunate man, but his
strength availed nothing against such a weight. He was hurled into the
bottom of the boat for his pains, and the captain went into the water
feet first as deep as the waist. Here, however, the disaster was
checked, for his strong arms caught the boat and held on.
The missionary, meanwhile, sprang forward and laid hold of him, while
his man rose with wonderful agility and lent his aid.
"Heave--ahoy!" cried the missionary, grasping a waist-band.
"Yo, heave, ho!" shouted the boatman, seizing a leg. Another moment and
the captain was safe in the bottom of the boat, which by that time was
floating quietly down the Thames!
Great was the regret expressed by the missionary at this unfortunate
event, and loud was the laughter with which it was treated by the
captain himself, on being re-seated in the stern sheets.
"We must go ashore and get a change of dry clothes for you, sir."
"Not a bit of it," cried the captain. "Row back to the ship; I'll mount
that ladder yet. If I didn't I'd keep dreaming of my discomfiture for a
twelve-month to come." They ran alongside the vessel a second time, and
went up the side in safety.
But, arrived on deck, the skipper, who happened to be a hospitable man
and friendly to the missionary, insisted on having Captain Bream down
into his cabin.
"Now you'll put on a suit of my clothes," he said, "till your own are
dry."
The captain would not hear of it.
"Just let me wring my own out," he said, "and I'll be all right."
"Have a glass of wine then, or brandy?"
"Impossible; thank'ee, I'm an abstainer."
"But you need it to prevent catching cold, you know. Take it as
physic."
"Physic!" exclaimed the captain. "I never took physic in my life, and I
won't begin wi' the nasty stuff now. Thank'ee all the same."
"Some coffee, then? I've got it all ready."
"Ay--that's better--if you're sure you've got it handy."
While the captain and the skipper were discussing the coffee, the wet
garments were sent to the galley and partially dried. Meanwhile the
missionary made the most of his opportunity among the men. By the time
he had finished his visit, the captain's nether garments were partially
dried, so they continued their voyage to the emigrant ship. When they
reached her the poor captain's interest in other people's affairs had
begun to fail, for his anxiety about his long-lost sister increased, as
the probability of finding her at last became greater.