THE LITTLE CAPTAIN STARTS ON A JOURNEY
Six weeks had passed since Madge Morton's discovery of her father, and
many things had happened since then. It was now toward the latter part of
September, and on a beautiful fall morning one of the busy steamship
docks in the lower end of New York City was crowded with a gay company of
people. There were four young girls and three young men, a beautiful
older woman, with soft, white hair and a look of wonderful distinction; a
woman of about twenty-six or seven, with a man by her side, who in some
way suggested the calling of the artist; a white-haired old man and an
elderly lady, who, in spite of the fact that she answered to the name of
Mrs. John Randolph, would have been mistaken anywhere for a New England
spinster. Two men were the only other important members of the group. One
of them was a distinguished-looking man of about fifty-three with a
rather sad expression, and the last a bluff old sea captain, whose laugh
rang out clear and hearty above the sound of the many voices.
In front of the wharf lay a beautiful steam yacht, painted pure white and
flying a United States flag. The boat was of good size and capable of
making many knots an hour, but she looked like a little toy ship
alongside the immense ocean-going steamers that were entering and leaving
the New York harbor, or waiting their sailing day at their docks.
One of the girls, dressed in a white serge frock and wearing a white felt
hat, was walking up and down at the back of the crowd, talking to a young
man.
"David, more than almost anything, I believe I appreciate your coming to
New York to see me off. It would have been dreadful to go away for a
whole year, or maybe longer, without having had a glimpse of you. Who
knows what may happen before I am back again?" The girl's eyes looked
wistfully about among her friends, although her lips smiled happily.
For a few seconds the young man made no answer. He had never been able to
talk very readily, now he seemed to wish to think before he spoke.
"I shall be a man, Madge, before you are back again," he replied slowly.
"I am twenty now, so I shall be ready to vote. But, best of all, I shall
be through college and ready to go to work." The young man threw back his
square shoulders. His black eyes looked serious and steadfast. "I am
going to make you proud of me, Madge. You remember I told you so, that
day in the Virginia field, when you helped me out of a scrape and started
me on the right road."
The little captain nodded emphatically. "I am proud of you already,
David," she declared warmly. "I think it is perfectly wonderful that you
have been able to take two years' work in college instead of one, beside
helping Mr. Preston on the farm. You are going to make me dreadfully
ashamed when I come back, by knowing so much more than I. Phil enters
Vassar this fall and Tom will graduate at Columbia in another year. I am
going to try to study on the yacht, but I shall be so busy seeing things
that I know I won't accomplish very much. Just think, David, I am going
around the world in our own boat with my father and Captain Jules! Isn't
it wonderful how one's dreams come true and things turn out even better
than you expect them to? I believe, if it weren't for leaving my beloved
houseboat chums and Mrs. Curtis and Tom, and Miss Jenny Ann and you, I
should be the happiest girl in the world."
"I don't suppose I count for much, Madge," answered David honestly, "but
I am more grateful to you than you can know for putting me on that list.
Some day----" The young man hesitated, then his sober face relaxed and a
brilliant smile lighted it. "It's pretty early for a fellow like me to be
talking about some day, isn't it, Madge?"
Madge laughed, though she blushed a little and answered nothing.
Just then Phyllis Alden and a young man in a lieutenant's uniform joined
Madge and David Brewster.
"Lieutenant Jimmy is saying dreadful things, Madge," announced Phil
mournfully. "He says he is sure you won't come back home in a year.
You'll stay over in Europe until you are grown up or married, or
something else, and you'll never be a houseboat girl again!" Phil's voice
broke.
Lieutenant Jimmy looked uncomfortable. "See here, Miss Alden," he
protested, "I never said anything as bad as all that. I only said that
perhaps Captain Morton and Captain Jules would stay longer than a year.
Almost any one would, if they owned that jolly little yacht."
"I'll wager you, Lieutenant Jimmy, a torpedo boat full of the same kind
of candy that you sent us at the end of our second houseboat holiday,
that if you come down to this dock one year from to-day you will see our
yacht, which Captain Jules has named 'The Little Captain,' paying her
respects to the Statue of Liberty. Come, let's go and make Father and
Captain Jules convince him, Phil," proposed Madge, hugging Phyllis close
to her, as if the thought of being parted from her for so long as one
year was not to be borne.
"I'll take that wager, Miss Morton," replied Lieutenant Jimmy jokingly,
"because I would be so awfully glad to have to pay it."
"Madge simply must come back on time, Lieutenant Jimmy," whispered Phil,
nodding her head mysteriously toward a young woman and a man. "It's a
state secret, and I ought not to tell you, but Miss Jenny Ann and Mr.
Theodore Brown, the artist, are to be married a year from this fall. We
must all be at the wedding. Miss Jenny Ann couldn't possibly be married
unless every one of the 'Mates of the Merry Maid' were there. If we can
arrange it, Miss Jenny Ann is going to be married on the houseboat. Won't
it be the greatest fun?"
For the moment Phil was so cheered at the thought of another houseboat
reunion, though a whole twelve months off, that she forgot that her best
beloved Madge was to leave in another half-hour for her trip around the
world.
Phyllis and Lieutenant Jimmy were standing a little behind Madge. David
Brewster stopped to talk to Mrs. Curtis and Tom.
At the far end of the dock Captain Jules Fontaine was giving some orders
to four sailors who formed the entire crew of his new yacht, for the old
pearl diver was to pilot his own boat, which was to sail under Captain
Morton's orders. The beautiful little yacht was Captain Jules's own
property. The old man had made a comfortable fortune in his life in the
tropics, but he had little use for it, and no desire, except to make
Madge and her father happy. The little captain's love for the water was
what endeared her most to the old sailor. He could not be happy away from
the sea and he couldn't be happy away from Madge and Captain Morton. The
fortunate girl's two fathers had discussed very seriously Madge's own
proposal to come to keep house for them at "The Anchorage." Both men knew
that she could not settle down at their lonely little house far up the
bay and several miles from the nearest town, which was Cape May.
Wonderful as the fathers thought Madge, they realized that she was very
young and must go on with her education. They could not bear to send her
away to college after all the long years of separation. Captain Jules
conceived the brilliant idea of educating her by taking her on a trip
around the world. The old sailor couldn't have borne being cooped up in
liners and on trains with other people to run them. So Madge's dream of a
ship all her own, which was to sail "strange countries for to see," had
come true with her other good fortune.
Leaving her friends for a moment, Madge made her way toward the end of
the dock to beg Captain Jules to reassure her friends of their return at
the end of a year. The captain did not notice her approach. Apparently no
one was looking at her.
On the end of the wharf were gathered three or four small street arabs.
They had no business on the wharf, which was precisely their reason for
being there. They were playing behind a number of large boxes and some
other luggage, and, until Madge approached, no one had observed them.
They were having a tug-of-war and it was hardly a fair battle. Two
good-sized urchins were pulling against one other strong fellow and
another small boy, so thin and pale, with such dark hair and big, black
eyes that, for the moment, he made Madge think of Tania, who was almost
well enough to leave the sanatorium and had sent her Fairy Godmother many
loving messages by Mrs. Curtis. Madge stopped for half a minute to watch
the boys. In her stateroom were so many boxes of candy she would never be
able to eat it all in her trip around the world. If she only had some of
them to give this lively little group of youngsters!
Captain Jules was at one side of the wide wharf with his back toward her
and the group of boys. His yacht was occupying his entire attention. The
street urchins did not realize how near they were to the edge of the dock
because of the pile of luggage that surrounded them.
The tug-of-war grew exciting. Madge clapped her hands softly. She had not
believed the smallest rascal had so much strength. Suddenly the older
lad's grip broke. The boys fell back against a pile of trunks that were
set uneasily one above the other. One of the trunks slid into the water
and the smallest lad slipped backward after it with an almost noiseless
splash. His boy companions stared helplessly after him, too frightened to
make a sound.
Of course, Madge might soon have summoned help. She did think of it for a
brief instant, for she realized perfectly that her white serge suit would
look anything but smart if she plunged into the river in it. Then, too,
her friends, Captain Jules, and her father might be displeased with her.
But the little lad had given her such an agonized, helpless look of
appeal as he struck the water! And his eyes were so like Tania's!
Captain Jules turned around at the sound of feet running down the dock.
David Brewster and Tom Curtis were side by side. But they both looked
more surprised than frightened. In the water, a few feet from the dock,
Captain Jules espied Madge Morton, her white hat floating off the back of
her head, her face and hair dripping with water. She was smiling in a
half-apologetic and half-nervous way. In one hand she held a small boy
firmly by the collar. "Fish us out, somebody?" she begged. "I am
dreadfully sorry to spoil my clothes, but this little wretch would go and
fall into the water at the very last moment."
Captain Jules and one of his sailors pulled Madge and the small boy
safely onto the wharf again. The captain frowned at her solemnly, while
David and Tom laughed.
"How am I ever going to keep her out of the bottom of the sea?" the
captain inquired sternly. "I don't know that I care for the role of
playing guardian to a mermaid."
Madge could see Mrs. Curtis, Miss Jenny Ann, her chums and her father, as
well as their other friends, hurrying down toward the end of the dock.
She gave one swift glance at them, then she looked ruefully at her own
dripping garments. Tom and David long remembered her as they saw her at
that moment. Her white dress clung to her slender form; the water was
dripping from her clothing, her cheeks were a brilliant crimson from
embarrassment at her plight; her red-brown hair glinted in the bright
sunlight, and her blue eyes sparkled with mischief and dismay. Before any
one had a chance to scold or to reproach her, she had dashed across the
wharf, run aboard the yacht and had shut herself up in her stateroom.
A few minutes later, dressed in a fresh white serge frock, she emerged to
say good-bye. The houseboat girls had made up their minds that not one
tear would any one of them shed when the moment of parting came. Lillian
and Phil stood on either side of Eleanor, for neither of them had much
faith that Nellie could keep her word when it came to the test.
Madge went first to Mr. and Mrs. John Randolph. "Miss Betsey" took both
her hands and held them gravely. "Madge, dear, remember I have always
told you that wherever you were exciting things were sure to happen. You
have convinced me of it again to-day. Now, you are going around the world
and I hope you will see and know only the best there is in it. Good-bye."
Miss Betsey leaned on her distinguished old husband's arm for support and
surreptitiously wiped her eyes.
"Jenny Ann Jones, you promised I wouldn't have to say good-bye to you,"
protested Madge chokingly. Miss Jenny Ann nodded, while Mr. Theodore
Brown gazed at her comfortingly. Madge rallied her courage and smiled at
both of them. "Do you remember, Jenny Ann," she questioned, "how on the
very first of our houseboat trips you said that you would marry some day,
just to be able to get rid of the name of 'Jones'? I am sure you will
like 'Brown' a whole lot better." Madge turned saucily away to hide the
trembling of her lips.
Mrs. Curtis said nothing. She just kissed Madge's forehead, both rosy
cheeks and once on her red lips. But when the little captain left her,
and Mrs. Curtis turned to find her son standing near her, his face white
and his lips set, his mother faltered brokenly: "I am trying hard not to
be selfish, Tom, and I am glad, with all my heart, that Madge found her
father, but no one will ever know how sorry I am not to have her for my
daughter."
"Maybe you will some day, after all, Mother," returned Tom steadily. "We
are young, I know, and neither of us has seen much of the world. Still, I
am fairly sure I know my own mind. Perhaps Madge will care as much as I
do now when the right time comes."
At the last, Madge could not say farewell to her three chums. Her eyes
were so full of tears that Captain Jules had to lead her aboard the
yacht. She stood on the deck, kissing both hands to them as long as she
could see them, until their little boat had been towed far out into the
great New York harbor.
Madge's father stood by her, watching the sunlight dance upon the water.
"My little girl," Captain Morton began, with a view of distracting her
attention from the sorrow of parting, "I have always forgotten to tell
you that I saw you graduate at Miss Tolliver's. Jules was not with me
that day. He knew of you but never saw you until you went to Cape May. I
wonder I didn't betray myself to you then, dear. It was I who first
called out to you when I saw that arch tottering over your head."
Madge nodded. "I know it now," she replied. "I must have caught a brief
glimpse of your face. You and Captain Jules sent me the wonderful pearl.
We never could guess from whom it had come."
"Yes," answered Captain Morton, "Jules and I had kept it for you for many
years. We determined that sooner or later you should have it. I shall
never forget the day when Jules came hurrying into 'The Anchorage' with
the news that he had seen you and talked with you about me. He was sure
that you were our Madge even before he knew your name to be Morton. It
was wonderful to hear that your dearest wish was to find me."
Madge slipped her arm into that of her father and laid her curly head
against his shoulder. "If it was Fate that separated us, then I shall
never be dismayed by it again, for love and determination are far greater
and through them I found you," she declared softly.
"I am afraid I am very selfish to take you away for a whole year from
Mrs. Curtis and Tom and the houseboat girls," said her father, almost
wistfully. "You are not sorry you are going to spend the next few months
with no one but two old men for company?"
"But I spent eighteen years without you," reminded Madge. "Don't you
believe I ought to begin to make up for lost time? Just think,"--her eyes
grew tender with the pride of possession--"I have what I've longed for
more than anything else in the world, my father's love. Perhaps when we
come back next year we can anchor the 'Little Captain' in Pleasure Bay
and invite the 'Merry Maid' and her crew to visit us. Then Miss Jenny Ann
could be married on the houseboat. We must be very sure to come home on
time if we carry out that plan."
"Aye, aye, Captain Madge," smiled her father, "unless our good ship fails
us we'll anchor next September in Pleasure Bay and send a special
invitation to the crew of the 'Merry Maid' to meet us there."
The End
End of Project Gutenberg's Madge Morton's Victory, by Amy D.V. Chalmers