REVOLVING AND RESOLVING.
Conversations similar to those recorded in the last chapter,
were frequently held between the two lads, during the next
month. Will Manton's determination was fixed, and he was making
secret preparations to start upon his wild journey. Rodney,
though equally desirous to escape the restraints of home, could
not yet make up his mind to risk the adventure. He regarded his
comrade as a sort of young hero; and he wished he had the
courage to be like him.
One Monday morning, in June, as he was returning from his work,
he saw Will Manton's old grandfather standing before the door,
looking up and down the street; and he noticed that he seemed
very uneasy, and much distressed. When he came opposite the
house, on the other side of the street, the old gentleman called
him over, and asked him, "Rodney, do you know where Will is?"
The boy's heart beat wildly, and his cheek turned pale; for he
at once surmised that his comrade had carried out his purpose.
He stammered out, in reply,
"I have not seen him since last Friday night."
"It is very strange," said the old man. "He has not been at
home since last Sunday, at dinner-time. What has become of him?"
Will Manton was gone!
To the anxious inquiries that were made, his friends discovered
that he had left Albany in the evening boat, on Tuesday, for New
York. Though a messenger was immediately sent after him, no
trace of him could be discovered. A few months after, they
received a letter from him, written from Liverpool, where he had
gone in a merchant-ship, as a cabin-boy. His friends were very
much grieved and distressed, but hoped that he would soon grow
weary of a hard and roving life, and return to his home.
There was a romantic interest in all this for young Rodney. In his
imagination, Will Manton was a hero. He was scarcely ever out of
his thoughts. He would follow him in fancy, bounding over the broad
sea, with all the sails of the majestic ship swelling in the
favoring breeze, now touching at some island, and looking at the
strange dresses and customs of a barbarous people; now meeting a
homeward-bound vessel, and exchanging joyful greetings; and now
lying to in a calm, and spearing dolphins and harpooning whales.
When the storm raged, he almost trembled lest he might be wrecked;
but, when it was over, he fancied the noble ship, having weathered
the storm, stemming safely the high waves, and careering gracefully
on her course. Or, if he was wrecked, he imagined that he must be
cast upon some shore where the hospitable inhabitants hurried down
to the beach to the relief of the crew, bore them safely through
the breakers, and pressed upon them the comforts of their homes.
His wild imagination followed him to other lands, and roved with
him along the streets of European cities, among the ruins of
Grecian temples, over the gardens of Spain and the vineyards of
Italy, through the pagodas of India, and the narrow streets of
Calcutta and Canton.
"O," thought he, "how delightful must be such a life! How
pleasant to be roaming amid scenes that are always new! And how
wretched to be tied to such a life as I lead, following the same
weary round of miserable drudgery every day!"
But it was Rodney's own fancy that painted this enjoyment of a
sailor-boy's life. Will Manton did not find it so pleasant in
reality. There was more menial drudgery to the poor cabin-boy on
ship-board, than he had ever known in the carpenter's shop. He
was sworn at, and thumped, and kicked, and driven from one thing
to another, by the captain, and mates, and steward, and crew,
all day long. And many a night, when, weary and sore, he crept
to his hard, narrow bunk, he lay and cried himself to sleep,
thinking of his kind and pleasant home.
When Fancy pictures before the restless mind distant and
unknown scenes, she divests them of all the rough realities
which a nearer view and a tried experience find in them. The
mountain-side looks smooth and pleasant from a distance, but we
find it rugged and wearisome when we attempt to climb it.
One idea had now gained almost sole possession of poor Rodney's
mind. He must go to sea! He thought of it all day, and dreamed
of it at night. He did not dare to speak about it to his mother,
for he knew that she would refuse her consent. He must _run
away_! He formed a hundred different plans, and was forced to
abandon them. Now Will Manton was gone, there was no one with
whom he could consult. He was afraid to speak of it, lest it
should reach the ears of his mother. Alone he nursed his
resolution, and formed his plans.
He was very unhappy, because he knew that he was purposing
wrong. He could not be contented with his employment, and he
knew how it would grieve the hearts of those who loved him, if
he should persist in his design. Yet, when he pictured to
himself the freedom from restraint, the pleasure of roaming from
place to place over the world, and the thousand exciting scenes
and adventures which he should meet by becoming a sailor, he
determined, at all hazards, to make the attempt.
Unhappy boy! He was sowing, for his own reaping, the seeds of a
bitter harvest of wretchedness and remorse.