FAITHFUL PHIL
"COME you down into my cabin and tell me what's happened since you
bolted from the 'Stormy Petrel' with that sneakin' rascal." And the
honest sailor shook his huge fist at the retreating form of old Renard.
Then Tad followed the skipper into the tiny cabin, and there over
a good breakfast told his story; told it exactly as things had
happened—the whole truth without reserve. It was a relief now to
disburden his heavy heart of what was oppressing him so sorely, and to
ask for the advice and help of which he stood so urgently in need.
"You want to know what I think you'd best do?" asked Jeremiah as Tad
finished his narrative.
"Yes, sir, and whatever you says now, I promise to do it," replied poor
Tad. "All along I've been tryin' to choose and to get what I liked
best, and I've done nothin' but kick agen pricks, just as you said to
me. You see, I haven't forgot, sir."
"Well, Teddie Poole, things bein' as they are, and you in a pretty bad
fix, my counsel to you is to send word by letter to the woman you call
Marie that the kid is in hospital here, and also to write to your chum
Phil as how you're sorry and all that, for what you done. And then—"
"Please, is this boat the 'Stormy Petrel,' and is Captain Jeremiah
Jackson here?" called a sweet boyish voice down the companion way.
"Why, if that ain't Phil hisself!" cried Tad. "I'd know his voice in
a thousand!" And jumping from his seat, he scrambled up on deck, and
rushed straight into Phil's arms.
"Oh Phil, dear Phil, is it really you? And can you ever forgive me—me
that have been so bad?" whispered Tad brokenly.
"Hush, dear old man; I know the temptation was a big one to you, and
what you done's all forgiven—be sure of that."
"But how did you find me?" inquired Tad.
"Oh, I knowed what you'd always thought of doin'," answered Phil, "and
so we come straight here to Granville in one of the house-waggons, and
I ran down to the quay to see if I could find the 'Stormy Petrel,'
feelin' sure you'd make for her if she was in port. But Tad," continued
Phil, "where's baby Victor? Is he down in the cabin? Marie's here, half
mad at losin' him."
Tad's face fell.
"He's very ill, Phil; he's had to be took to the hospital; his chest is
awful bad, I'm afeared."
At this Phil turned away from his friend, and stepped off the boat on
to the quay to tell Marie this sad news, for she was standing there
waiting to hear about the child. The tears welled up in her dark eyes
as Phil spoke, but she said nothing, only glancing reproachfully
towards Tad ere she turned and went into the town, bending her steps
towards the hospital where the little one was lying.
While Tad stood sadly watching her out of sight, he presently saw
coming slowly along by the water side good old Mother Sophie. Leaping
on shore, he ran to meet her.
"Dear Mother Sophie," he cried, "I have been the most wicked, thankless
boy that ever lived, to leave you as I did, after all your goodness.
But I am sorry, and oh, I—"
"If you are sorry for having made us so anxious, child, I pardon you.
But tell me, Edouard, where is baby Victor?"
"He is in the hospital, and his life is in danger I fear, dear mother."
"My poor Marie!" sighed the old woman. "She loves Victor so well, and
her heart would break were he to die. It will be hard enough anyway to
part from him, even if he gets well."
Tad turned in amazement to Phil, who had followed him as he went to
meet Mother Sophie.
"Part from him—if he gets well?" said he. "What does that mean, Phil?"
"Only that I have told Marie, and Father Jacques, and Mother Sophie the
whole story," replied Phil, "so now they all know the truth about you
and baby. Marie didn't want to give up the child, if once she managed
to get him back from you, but her parents wouldn't hear of her keepin'
him, after what I'd told them, so if he gets better, you and he and
Marie 'll go back to England together if you like."
Tad was silent for a minute.
"Then maybe if I'd told the whole truth to the good people at the
beginning, as you begged me to, Phil," he said at last, "I might have
got my way without runnin' off with the child at all, and p'raps he
wouldn't have been so ill neither."
Phil made no answer to this. What indeed could he say?
But Tad went on, "I say, Phil, what a fool I've been for my pains!
Captain Jackson was right about kickin' agen the pricks, for here I've
took lots of trouble to go crooked, just to find myself wuss off than
if I'd gone straight, to say nothin' of makin' no end of bother for
others."
"But now, Edouard," put in Mother Sophie, who understood no English,
and had no idea what Tad was talking about, "now, Edouard, what do you
intend to do? Will you return with your friend the captain this voyage,
or—"
"No, no, dear Mother Sophie," answered Tad, "I will not go until baby
is better and can go too. You know I couldn't go home without him."
"Here you, Teddie Poole!" called Jeremiah from the deck of his
schooner. "I want to speak to you!"
And Tad ran back quickly.
"Will you go home with us in a few days' time, boy?" inquired the
captain. "Or would you rather wait till I come again? I expect to be
back here in about three weeks, if all be well, and I'll take you and
your friends over then if you like. No, don't thank me, my lad!" he
added, as Tad gratefully accepted his second offer. "No need for more
words about it. It's only my dooty as a man and a Christian, and it's a
pleasure into the bargain. And, praise the Lord, the boat's my own, and
I've no one's leave to ask."