Captain Beecroft in uniform, and looking young and happy, came forward
with a smile to bid us welcome.
"So you haven't parted with your beautiful cat?" said the captain, as we
walked to the companion.
"No, Beecroft, nothing, I hope, will ever part me from her."
"I wonder," said Beecroft, "if she'll remember her old pal, the hero,
Tom Brandy."
"What? Have you still got Tom?"
"Yes. It isn't likely I'd sail without black Tom. That would be to
throw away my luck, you know, and I'd never become an Admiral."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed master; "but how superstitious sailors are!"
"And some soldiers too, ain't they? ha, ha!"
Then both laughed, and Beecroft led the way to his quarters, a sentry at
the door saluting as we passed by.
I declare to you, children, when I saw honest Tom Brandy lying there on
a skin rug in front of the stove--for it was almost winter now, and very
cold--you could have knocked me down with a sledge hammer.
I felt all over in a whirl with joy, and for a moment I didn't know
whether my top or my toes were uppermost.
Tom jumped up with a fond cry, and ran to meet me, and the two of us ran
round and round the table in order to allay our feelings, like a pair of
three-month-old kittens.
But we both settled down on the skin in a few minutes, and commenced
singing a duet together, to the accompaniment of a coffee-urn that
simmered above the stove.
"Just like old times, isn't it, soldier?" said Beecroft, looking down at
me and Tom.
"Just like old times, sailor," said master.
Then the two shook hands once more.
And down they sat to talk and smoke.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
The ship sailed in a day or two, heading away down channel on a beam
wind. Tom told me it was a beam wind, else I wouldn't have known, for
it was just the same colour as any other wind. Tom also told me we were
under close-reefed topsails and storm jib, and that if it came on to
blow a bit more, we should be scudding under bare poles.