I was soon in the high road, and clear of the town of Chatham. As my
object was that it should not be supposed that I had been there, I made
all the haste I could to increase my distance; I therefore walked on in
the direction of Gravesend, where I arrived about ten o'clock. A return
chaise offered to take me to Greenwich for a few shillings, and before
morning dawned I had gained the metropolis.
I lost no time in inquiring when the coaches started for Portsmouth, and
found that I was in plenty of time, as one set off at nine o'clock.
Much as I wished to see London, my curiosity gave way to what I
considered the necessity of my immediate return to the frigate. At
seven o'clock in the evening I arrived at Portsmouth; I hastened down,
jumped into a wherry, and was on board of the frigate again by eight.
It may be imagined that my sudden and unexpected appearance caused no
little surprise. Indeed, the first lieutenant considered it right to
send the gig on shore at that late hour to apprise the captain of my
return, and Bob Cross had just time to give me a wring of the hand
before he jumped into the boat, and went away to make the report.
I gave a history of my adventures to the officers, leaving them,
however, to suppose that I had never been to Chatham, but had gone up to
London in the merchant vessel.
Pearson, the boatswain's mate, came to make inquiries about his wife;
and, soon after, Bob Cross came on board with the captain's orders, that
I should go on shore to him in the gig on the following morning.
I wished very much to consult Bob Cross previous to my seeing the
captain. I told him so, and he agreed to meet me on the gangway about
ten o'clock, as by that time the officers would be almost all in bed,
and there would be less chance of interruption.
It was a fine, clear night, and as soon as we found ourselves alone I
narrated to him, in a low voice, all that had taken place, and gave him
the contents of the letter which I had taken possession of. I then
asked him what he thought I ought to do, now that I was certain of being
the son of the captain.
"Why, Master Keene, you have done it very cleverly, that's the truth;
and that letter, which is as good as a certificate from Captain Delmar,
must be taken great care of. I hardly know where it ought to be put,
but I think the best thing will be for me to sew it in a seal-skin pouch
that I have, and then you can wear it round your neck, and next your
skin; for, as you say, you and that must never part company. But,
Master Keene, you must be silent as death about it. You have told me,
and I hope I may be trusted, but trust nobody else. As to saying or
hinting anything to the captain, you mustn't think of it; you must go on
as before, as if you knew nothing, for if he thought you had the letter
in your possession he would forget you were his son, and perhaps hate
you. He never would have been induced to acknowledge you under his own
hand as his son had he not thought that you were dead and gone, as
everybody else did; so behave just as respectful and distant as before.
It's only in some great emergency that that letter will do you any good,
and you must reserve it in case of need. If your mother is suspicious,
why, you must blind her. Your granny will swear that it was your ghost;
your mother may think otherwise, but cannot prove it; she dare not tell
the captain that she suspects you have the letter, and it will all blow
over after a cruise or two."
I agreed to follow the advice of Bob Cross, as I saw it was good, and we
parted for the night.
The next morning I went on shore to the captain, who received me, very
stiffly, with, "Mr Keene, you have had a narrow escape. How did you
get back?"
I replied, that the vessel which picked me up was bound to London and
that I had taken the coach down.
"Well, I never had an idea that we should have seen you again and I have
written to your mother, acquainting her with your loss."
"Have you, sir?" replied I; "it will make her very unhappy."
"Of course it will; but I shall write by this post, stating that you
have been so fortunately preserved."
"Thanky, sir," replied I; "have you any further orders, sir?"
"No, Mr Keene; you may go on board and return to your duty."
I made my bow, and quitted the room; went down below, and found Bob
Cross waiting for me.
"Well?" said he, as we walked away.
"Stiff as ever," replied I: "told me to go on board and 'tend to my
duty."
"Well, I knew it would be so," replied Bob; "it's hard to say what stuff
them great nobs are made of. Never mind that; you've your own game to
play, and your own secret to keep."
"His secret," replied I, biting my lips, "to keep or to tell, as may
happen."
"Don't let your vexation get the better of you, Master Keene; you've the
best of it, if you only keep your temper; let him play his cards, and
you play yours. As you know his cards and he don't know yours, you must
win the game in the end--that is, if you are commonly prudent."
"You are right, Cross," replied I; "but you forget that I am but a boy."
"You are but a boy, Master Keene, but you've no fool's head on your
shoulders."
"I hope not," replied I; "but here we are at the boat."
"Yes; and, as I live, here's Peggy Pearson. Well, Peggy, how did you
like your cruise with Master Keene?"
"If I ever go on another, I hope he will be my companion. Master Keene,
will you allow me to go on board with you to see my husband?"
"Oh, yes, Peggy," replied Cross; "the first lieutenant would not refuse
you after what has happened, nor Captain Delmar either, stiff as he is:
for, although he never shows it, he don't want feeling. Jim will be
glad to see you, Peggy; you haven't an idea how he took on, when he
heard of your loss. He borrowed a pocket-handkerchief from the corporal
of marines."
"I suspect he'd rather borrow a bottle of rum from the purser," replied
Peggy.
"Recollect, Peggy," said I, holding up my finger.
"Mr Keene, I do recollect; I pledge you my word that I have not tasted
a drop of spirits since we parted--and that with a sovereign in my
pocket."
"Well, only keep to it--that's all."
"I will, indeed, Mr Keene; and, what's more, I shall love you as long
as I live."
We pulled on board in the gig, and Peggy was soon in the arms of her
husband. As Pearson embraced her at the gangway--for he could not help
it--the first lieutenant very kindly said, "Pearson, I shan't want you
on deck till after dinner: you may go below with your wife."
"Now, may God bless you, for a cross-looking, kind-hearted gentleman,"
said Peggy to the first lieutenant.
Peggy was as good as her word to me; she gave such an account of my
courage and presence of mind, of her fears and at last of her getting
tipsy--of my remaining at the helm and managing the boat all night by
myself, that I obtained great reputation among the ship's company, and
it was all reported to the officers, and worked its way until it came
from the first lieutenant to the captain, and from the captain to the
port admiral. This is certain, that Peggy Pearson did do me a good
service, for I was no longer looked upon as a mere youngster, who had
just come to sea, and who had not been tried.
"Well, sir," said Bob Cross, a day or two afterwards, "it seems, by
Peggy Pearson's report, that you're not frightened at a trifle."
"Peg Pearson's report won't do me much good."
"You ought to know better, Master Keene, than to say that; a mouse may
help a lion, as the fable says."
"Where did you learn all your fables, Cross?"
"I'll tell you; there's a nice little girl that used to sit on my knee
and read her fables to me, and I listened to her because I loved her."
"And does she do so now?"
"Oh, no; she's too big for that--she'd blush up to the temples; but
never mind the girl or the fables. I told you that Peggy had reported
your conduct, as we say in the service. Now do you know, that this very
day I heard the first lieutenant speaking of it to the captain, and
you've no idea how proud the captain looked, although he pretended to
care nothing about it; I watched him, and he looked as much as to say,
`that's my boy.'"
"Well, if that pleases him, I'll make him prouder yet of me, if I have
the opportunity," replied I.
"That you will, Master Keene, if I'm any judge of fizonomy; and that's
the way to go to a parent's heart: make him feel proud of you."