Part 14 (1/2)

Miss Abigail was in an upper chamber, sweeping; but on hearing the unusual racket below, she scented an accident and came ambling downstairs with a bottle of the infallible hot-drops in her hand.

Nothing but the firmness of my grandfather prevented her from giving Sailor Ben a table-spoonful on the spot. But when she learned what had come about--that this was Kitty's husband, that Kitty Collins wasn't Kitty Collins now, but Mrs. Benjamin Watson of Nantucket--the good soul sat down on the meal-chest and sobbed as if--to quote from Captain Nutter--as if a husband of her own had turned up!

A happier set of people than we were never met together in a dingy kitchen or anywhere else. The Captain ordered a fresh decanter of Madeira, and made all hands, excepting myself, drink a cup to the return of ”the prodigal sea-son,” as he persisted in calling Sailor Ben.

After the first flush of joy and surprise was over Kitty grew silent and constrained. Now and then she fixed her eyes thoughtfully on her husband. Why had he deserted her all these years? What right had he to look for a welcome from one he had treated so cruelly? She had been true to him, but had he been true to her? Sailor Ben must have guessed what was pa.s.sing in her mind, for presently he took her hand and said--”Well, la.s.s, it's a long yarn, but you shall have it all in good time. It was my hard luck as made us part company, an' no will of mine, for I loved you dear.”

Kitty brightened up immediately, needing no other a.s.surance of Sailor Ben's faithfulness.

When his hour had expired, we walked with him down to the wharf, where the Captain held a consultation with the mate, which resulted in an extension of Mr. Watson's leave of absence, and afterwards in his discharge from his s.h.i.+p. We then went to the ”Mariner's Home” to engage a room for him, as he wouldn't hear of accepting the hospitalities of the Nutter House.

”You see, I'm only an uneddicated man,” he remarked to my grandfather, by way of explanation.

Chapter Sixteen--In Which Sailor Ben Spins a Yarn

Of course we were all very curious to learn what had befallen Sailor Ben that morning long ago, when he bade his little bride goodby and disappeared so mysteriously.

After tea, that same evening, we a.s.sembled around the table in the kitchen--the only place where Sailor Ben felt at home--to hear what he had to say for himself.

The candles were snuffed, and a pitcher of foaming nut-brown ale was set at the elbow of the speaker, who was evidently embarra.s.sed by the respectability of his audience, consisting of Captain Nutter, Miss Abigail, myself, and Kitty, whose face shone with happiness like one of the polished tin platters on the dresser.

”Well, my hearties,” commenced Sailor Ben--then he stopped short and turned very red, as it struck him that maybe this was not quite the proper way to address a dignitary like the Captain and a severe elderly lady like Miss Abigail Nutter, who sat bolt upright staring at him as she would have stared at the Tyc.o.o.n of j.a.pan himself.

”I ain't much of a hand at spinnin' a yarn,” remarked Sailor Ben, apologetically, ”'specially when the yarn is all about a man as has made a fool of hisself, an' 'specially when that man's name is Benjamin Watson.”

”Bravo!” cried Captain Nutter, rapping on the table encouragingly.

”Thankee, sir, thankee. I go back to the time when Kitty an' me was livin' in lodgin's by the dock in New York. We was as happy, sir, as two porp.u.s.s.es, which they toil not neither do they spin. But when I seed the money gittin' low in the locker--Kitty's starboard stockin', savin' your presence, marm--I got down-hearted like, seem' as I should be obleeged to s.h.i.+p agin, for it didn't seem as I could do much ash.o.r.e. An' then the sea was my nat'ral spear of action. I wasn't exactly born on it, look you, but I fell into it the fust time I was let out arter my birth. My mother slipped her cable for a heavenly port afore I was old enough to hail her; so I larnt to look on the ocean for a sort of step-mother--an'

a precious hard one she has been to me.

”The idee of leavin' Kitty so soon arter our marriage went agin my grain considerable. I cruised along the docks for somethin' to do in the way of stevedore: an' though I picked up a stray job here and there, I didn't arn enough to buy s.h.i.+p-bisket for a rat; let alone feedin' two human mouths. There wasn't nothin' honest I wouldn't have turned a hand to; but the 'longsh.o.r.emen gobbled up all the work, an' a outsider like me didn't stand a show.

”Things got from bad to worse; the month's rent took all our cash except a dollar or so, an' the sky looked kind o' squally fore an' aft. Well, I set out one mornin'--that identical unlucky mornin'--determined to come back an' toss some pay into Kitty's lap, if I had to sell my jacket for it. I spied a brig unloadin' coal at pier No. 47--how well I remembers it! I hailed the mate, an' offered myself for a coal-heaver. But I wasn't wanted, as he told me civilly enough, which was better treatment than usual. As I turned off rather glum I was signalled by one of them sleek, smooth-spoken rascals with a white hat an' a weed on it, as is always goin' about the piers a-seekin' who they may devower.

”We sailors know 'em for rascals from stem to starn, but somehow every fresh one fleeces us jest as his mate did afore him. We don't larn nothin' by exper'ence; we're jest no better than a lot of babys with no brains.

”'Good mornin', my man,' sez the chap, as iley as you please.

”'Mornin', sir,' sez I.

”'Lookin' for a job?' sez he.

”'Through the big end of a telescope,' sez I--meanin' that the chances for a job looked very small from my pint of view.

”'You're the man for my money,' sez the sharper, smilin' as innocent as a cherubim; 'jest step in here, till we talk it over.'

”So I goes with him like a nat'ral-born idiot, into a little grocery-shop near by, where we sets down at a table with a bottle atween us. Then it comes out as there is a New Bedford whaler about to start for the fis.h.i.+n' grounds, an' jest one able-bodied sailor like me is wanted to make up the crew. Would I go? Yes, I wouldn't on no terms.

”'I'll bet you fifty dollars,' sez he, 'that you'll come back fust mate.'