One evening Bernard was standing at the side of the vessel, looking out
over the waste of waters, and wondering what was to be his future. It
was quite dark, so that he was unable to see far.
He felt that this symbolized his own life. He could not see far ahead of
him, and what he could see was obscure. He didn’t dream that he was in
great peril, and yet the greatest danger of his life hung over him.
Whence did it come? The night was still, and the waves were calm. Nature
was kind, but the peril came from a human source.
All at once he felt himself lifted in a pair of powerful arms—lifted
to a level with the rail, so that his startled eyes looked down in
helpless fear upon the cruel waves beneath. He uttered a sharp cry, and
this saved his life.
His stanch friend, Jack Staples, was close at hand. He sprang forward
and grasped Professor Puffer by the throat, at the same time tearing
Bernard from his grasp.
“You scoundrel!” ejaculated the indignant sailor.
“What are you’ about? Do you mean to murder the boy?”
Professor Puffer, who had thought himself quite unobserved, was as much
startled as his victim had been, but he was shrewd and tricky.
He passed his hand to his forehead, as he fell back, and said, in a
dazed tone: “What is the matter? Where am I?”
“Where are you?” retorted the incensed sailor. “If you were where you
ought, to be, you would now be on the gallows.”
“What do you mean by your insolence, you low sailor?” exclaimed Puffer.
“I mean that I have a great mind to treat you as you were treating the
boy. You were about to murder him, you scoundrel!”
“There is some mistake,” said Puffer. “I—I had a severe headache, and I
was out of my head. I must have been walking in my sleep. What was I
doing?”
“You were trying to throw the boy into the sea. You know that well
enough.”
“Good heavens! You don’t mean it?” ejaculated Puffer, with well
counterfeited horror. “I can’t believe it. And you prevented it?”
“Yes, I did. But for me, the boy would have been drowned.”
“My honest friend,” said the professor effusively, “you have done me a
great—the greatest service. You have saved me from a terrible crime.
Let me shake your hand!”
“No,” said Jack, drawing back, “I won’t take the hand of a
murderer—leastways, of one who attempted to murder.”
“Don’t say that, my worthy friend. You hurt my feelings. At least, let
me show my appreciation of your great service. Here’s a gold piece——”
“Keep your money; I don’t want it,” said Jack scornfully.
“At any rate,” went on the professor, crestfallen, “let me hope that you
will keep this unfortunate affair to yourself. It would do no good to
reveal it, and it would put me in a false position.”
“I won’t promise anything,” said Jack suspiciously. “Only, if you try to
hurt a hair of this boy’s head again I’ll have you in jail as soon as we
reach port.”
“Oh, how you mistake me!” murmured the professor sadly. “Yet I cannot
blame you. It certainly did look suspicious.”
“I should say it did.”
“And I cannot blame you for your very natural prejudice against me. How
should you know my kindness of heart? I would not even harm an
animal—much less a bright, promising boy, for whom I cherish a warm
affection.”
Bernard was not deceived by the professor’s protestations. He had never
noticed any affection on the part of his companion, and felt sure that
the action was premeditated. He realized, that Puffer was only carrying
out the instructions of his guardian, and that it was in this way he had
decided to “get rid of him.”
“Stow that,” said Jack contemptuously. “You don’t deceive me with your
smooth talk.”
“I must submit to your injustice, my worthy fellow, for I know that you
are a true friend to the boy, and, therefore, I freely forgive you. But
you, Bernard, I trust you acquit me of the terrible crime which this
honest sailor thinks I premeditated?”
“I won’t express any opinion, Professor Puffer,” replied Bernard coldly.
“I can only say that but for him you would have taken my life.”
“This is indeed hard,” whined the professor, “to feel that you hate and
distrust me. But I will prove to you that I am a better friend than you
think me. You asked me the other day for some money on account?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I said I would wait till we landed. Now I will voluntarily anticipate
payment. Here are fifteen dollars. You can convert them into English
money when you reach Liverpool.”
“I will take the money, Professor Puffer, because it is rightfully mine,
but I cannot forget the terrible fate to which you attempted to consign
me.”
“You will think better of me in time, Bernard. I can bring you a medical
certificate to prove to you that I am subject to fits of sleep walking.”
“Have you ever attempted to kill any one in these fits before?”
“No, thank heaven! I can’t account for my action to-night. But it is
getting late; we had better go to bed.”
“I will never occupy the stateroom with you again!” said Bernard
hastily.
“Don’t be foolish,” returned the professor testily. “You surely don’t
suppose you are in any further peril?”
“I don’t know about that. According to your own statement, you are
subject to fits of sleep walking, when you are not responsible for what
you do.”
“They occur only at rare intervals. The last one was two months since.
Come to the stateroom. Your omission to do so will only create scandal.”
“Let it,” said Bernard resolutely. “It won’t be my fault. There is
nothing that I am afraid to have revealed.”
“But can’t you see what a position it will put me in?”
“I can’t help that, Professor Puffer.”
“But you can’t go without sleep.”
“No, I shall not like to, but I would rather lie down on deck than
occupy the stateroom with you.”
“You are making a fool of yourself,” said the professor, biting his lip.
“The lad is right,” said Jack. “He won’t have to sit up all night. There
is a vacant bunk near mine, and if he isn’t too proud to sleep with
rough sailors, he can pass the night there.”
“I will do it Jack,” said Bernard. “I haven’t any foolish pride. If the
forecastle is fit for you to sleep in, it’s fit for me.”
He walked off with Jack, and Professor Puffer was left gnawing his lip.
“What a scrape I have got into!” he said to himself. “But for that
rascally sailor the boy would have dropped into the water and that would
have been the last of him. Then I would have got a thousand dollars from
Mr. McCracken, and had a hold on him that would have amounted to a great
deal more. As it is, unless the sailor and the boy keep silent, I shall
be in the worst scrape of my life.”
A little reflection, however, allayed the fears of Professor Puffer. In
a short time the boy and Jack would part company, and if Bernard ever
brought up this subject again, and charged him with attempted murder,
his testimony would be unsupported, and would carry very little weight
with it, especially as Mr. McCracken would side with him against the
boy.
Bernard slept that night in the forecastle, and enjoyed as good a
night’s rest as usual. The next day he was transferred, at Mr. Puffer’s
request, to a vacant stateroom, on the ground that he could not sleep as
well with another person in the same room. The purser asked why he had
waited so long before suggesting the change.
“I didn’t want to make trouble,” replied the professor carelessly.
As Professor Puffer agreed to pay extra for the additional stateroom, no
objections were made, and henceforth—though it was only for three
nights—Bernard had a room to himself.
Nothing more, happened worth noting till the Vesta reached Liverpool.
Bernard was exercised in mind. He had fully determined to leave the
professor, but it was not necessary to do so immediately. He was afraid
also that Puffer, claiming guardianship, would have him pursued if he
fled from him. He would easily be able to establish the fact that
Bernard was under his charge, and this might embarrass him.
“Come, Bernard,” said Professor Puffer, “I want you to get your luggage
ready. We shall go ashore as soon as the custom officers have examined
it.”
“Where are you going, sir?”
“To the Albion Hotel.”
“If I go with you, you must have a separate room for me.”
“Haven’t you got over that old folly? That will make an extra expense.”
“I can’t help that, sir. You have made it necessary.”
Professor Puffer was very angry, but he reflected that it would not be
wise to make a fuss, as it would lead to a revelation from Bernard that
would embarrass him, at the least, especially as Jack Staples was at
hand ready to confirm any allegation that his ward might make.
“Very well,” he said shortly.
They were conveyed to the Albion Hotel, and a small room was assigned to
Bernard, adjoining the larger one occupied by Professor Puffer.
“Good-by, Jack,” said Bernard, grasping the honest sailor’s hand warmly.
“You have been a good friend to me. But for you I wouldn’t have lived to
reach Liverpool.”
“How long are you going to stay with the professor?” asked Jack.
“Not long.”
“That’s right, lad. You can’t trust him. He’s a snake in the grass.”
“I have the same opinion of him that you have, Jack. I won’t trust him,
and I shall leave him very soon. But I want a little time to think about
my plans.”
“God bless you, lad! If you ever get into trouble, think of Jack
Staples.”
“I will, Jack;” and so the two friends parted.