Even as close-hauled as she could be under the double-reefed mainsail,
the _Belle_ flew on her course; but under this short sail she did
not labor so heavily as before, and I had no fear but that she would
make tolerably good weather of it. As I had anticipated, I found
comparatively smooth water under the lee of the west shore; but, with
two reefs in the mainsail, I found it impossible to lie close enough to
the wind to avoid running out into the heavy sea.
I decided to make a sheltered cove, and turn out the last reef I had
put in, satisfied that I could keep close enough under this sail to
avoid the savage sea in the middle of the lake. Waddie was reclining
upon one of the berths, as comfortable as though he had been in his
father’s house, while I was again shivering with the cold and wet to
the skin. I supposed he was working up his good resolutions. I never
had much hope of Waddie, his temper was so bad and his impulses so
violent. On the other hand, it had always seemed to me that a very
little improvement would make a good fellow of Tommy Toppleton. It
was, therefore, almost incredible that the former should be the first
to proclaim his good resolutions, and express a desire to mend his
character.
Waddie’s impulses, whether good or evil, appeared to be equally
violent. It is true I had never before heard him whisper a doubt that
he was not, even morally, the best young man in the vicinity; but
his demonstration seemed to be rather too enthusiastic to endure for
more than a day or two, or a week at the most. Tommy Toppleton had
never, I confidently believe, soared to the elevation of making good
resolutions. If he had, there would have been hope of him.
My companion in the boat was engaged in deep and earnest thought. I
should not have known any better what he was thinking about if he had
told me in so many words. In the face of his earnestness, therefore, I
could not help cherishing a slight hope that he would do better--it was
not a strong hope. I determined to encourage him as much as I could,
and in a gentle way make such suggestions to him from time to time as
his case seemed to require.
After all, it was not so surprising that Waddie should have his eyes
opened by the exciting events of that day. He had been thoroughly
convinced that he was not omnipotent; that there was such a thing as
retribution. Probably he was also aware of the extent of the dislike
with which the Wimpletonians regarded him. He was no fool, and ordinary
perception would have enabled him to comprehend his relations with
his associates at the institute. I think he ought to have known
all that Dick Bayard had told me; and possibly he was suspicious
that his battalion and the stockholders of his steamboat company
intended to mutiny against him. At any rate, he was conscious of his
own unpopularity; he had acknowledged as much to me. He was in deep
thought. I did not disturb him.
I turned out the reef, and Waddie still devoted himself to his
meditations. The _Belle_ filled away again, and in the shelter of the
shore went along quite easily. The change in the motion of the boat
seemed to attract the attention of my passenger, and he opened the
slide, to see what was going on.
“The wind has gone down, hasn’t it, Wolf?” said he.
“No; the sea is just as heavy out in the middle of the lake as ever. We
are under the lee of the shore now.”
“You seem to be quite comfortable. I think I will come out, for I want
to talk with you.”
“It is pretty dry now. You will find some more old coats under the port
berth.”
Waddie presently came out of the cabin, enveloped in an old overcoat
which my father had worn out. He appeared to have something on his
mind, of which he was anxious to discharge himself. He took a seat by
my side; but, though the _Belle_ was going along tolerably well for
such a day, he did not speak for some time. Aware of his impulsive
nature, I rather expected to be appointed engineer or captain of
the _Ucayga_; for, as I have said before, he was the president of
the steamboat company, though his movements were more effectually
controlled than his rival on the other side of the lake.
“Wolf, I know you don’t like me very well,” said he, at last, and with
something like a troubled look on his face.
“Well, I can’t say that your conduct toward me has been such as to make
me love you very much. I won’t be a hypocrite, Waddie,” I replied.
“But what made you interfere when those fellows were abusing me?” he
asked, looking me full in the face. “If you don’t like me, why did you
risk a broken head to save me? That’s what I want to know.”
“I don’t know that I can explain my conduct very well,” I answered,
laughing. “I have always tried to think kindly of those who wanted to
injure me. I thought that those fellows were doing an abominably mean
and wicked thing, and that it was my duty to interfere. That’s really
all I know about it.”
“I can’t understand it. I was in hopes that, after all I have done and
said, you really did like me.”
“I don’t dislike you.”
“No matter; of course, I can’t blame you for not liking me; but I want
to begin anew. When I gave you my hand, and wanted to be friends, I was
in real earnest. I want you to be my friend, and stand by me.”
“Stand by you!” I exclaimed. “I can’t stand by you unless you are in
the right. I wouldn’t stand by you after you, with another, had caught
a small boy and licked him.”
Waddie bit his lips, and I thought he was going to get mad, for what I
had said was a home-thrust.
“I was wrong in that, Wolf,” said he, with a struggle, which was
creditable to him, and which raised him very much in my estimation.
“You were, indeed; and that scrape was the father of the one you got
into to-day.”
“I know it; and I am afraid there are other scrapes in store for me.
The institute fellows and the members of our battalion are down upon
me; so is the steamboat company.”
“Do you wish me to tell you just what I think, Waddie?” I asked.
“I certainly do.”
“Even if it is not pleasant?”
“Yes; say on.”
“If I were in your place, Waddie, I would be the most popular fellow
in the whole region round about us. I would have every fellow like me,
and stand by me,” I continued earnestly, as the boat approached the
Narrows.
“Well, I have tried to be.”
“Have you, indeed!” I replied, laughing in spite of myself at the
absurdity of the proposition, though it is very likely Waddie believed
what he said, strange as it may seem.
“I have been president of the steamboat company, major of the
battalion; and I don’t see why the fellows don’t like me.”
“I will tell you candidly why they do not. Because you think more of
yourself than you do of any other fellow. You are selfish and exacting.
You think every fellow ought to yield to you; and you are tyrannical
and overbearing toward them. That’s what’s the matter, though I
shouldn’t have said so if you had not told me to do it.”
“Do you think I am so bad as that?” said he, looking moody and solemn,
rather than angry, as I supposed he would be.
“I have told you just what I think. Look at it for yourself a moment.
Go back to the time when you blowed up that canal-boat. Do you
think you treated the skipper and his daughter just right? Then you
threatened to blow out my brains if I did not do as you told me.”
“Don’t say any more about that. I am willing to own that I was wrong,”
pleaded he.
“Well, come down to a later day. At the auction you commanded me not
to bid on the _Belle_. You pitched into me, tooth and nail, because I
did bid. You forbade my going on the _Ucayga_, just as Tommy Toppleton
ordered me not to ride on his railroad, though I paid my fare in both
instances. I don’t rake up these things for any other purpose than
to prove what I said. You can’t expect any fellow to like you if you
conduct yourself in such a manner.”
“What shall I do?”
“Do anything but what you have done. Respect the wishes and feelings,
and especially the rights, of others, whether they be poor or rich. I
happen to know myself that the institute fellows are down upon you,
and that they don’t mean to stand your domineering and tyranny much
longer.”
“What are they going to do?” he asked curiously.
“I’m sure I don’t know; only that they mean mutiny, in general terms.
It is just the same on our side of the lake. The Toppletonians intend
to pull Tommy down from his high places. At the last election of
officers they did elect another president, but he declined to serve,
though he was sorry enough afterward that he did not stand.”
“You talk plainly, Wolf,” continued Waddie seriously. “I don’t think
I’m quite so hard a fellow as you make me out to be.”
“I tell you just what I think, and just what others think.”
“You are my friend now--are you not, Wolf?”
“I will do everything I can for you; and if you will do what is right I
will stand by you to the end of time.”
“By the great horn spoon, I will do right if I know how! You shall tell
me what to do.”
“I don’t want to tell you what to do. If you mean right, you can’t very
well go wrong.”
“You will advise me, won’t you?”
“Certainly I will, if you wish me to do so.”
“What would you do now if you were in my place?”
The arrival of the _Belle_ at Centreport pier prevented me from
answering this question, though I kept thinking of it while I was
securing the boat to enable Waddie to go on shore. But he was not
willing to part with me, and insisted so strongly that I should go up
to “his house” with him that I could not refuse. He clung to me like a
brother, and I was confident that he intended then to mend his manners,
whether he held out in the resolution or not. I lowered my sail, and
walked up the street with him.
I went to his house, and the visit was productive of the most important
results.