Part 18 (2/2)
”Again the Spanish saw, '_Cada uno a su gusto_,' as just now my sweetheart said, after I had kissed the dear girl six times in succession. But let us step out.”
”Don't be in such hot haste. You forget we've something to do; which must be done first--before everything else.”
”What?”
”Look up Harry Blew; find him, if we can; and coax him to take service in this Chilian s.h.i.+p.”
”He won't require much coaxing, once you say the word. The old salt is anything but ungrateful. Indeed, his regard for you, ever since you saved him from that shark, is more like real grat.i.tude than anything I ever saw. He fairly wors.h.i.+ps you, Ned. He told me the day before he left the _Crusader_, that parting with you was the only thing which greatly grieved him. I saw the tears trickling down his cheeks, as you shook hands with him over the rail. Even then, if you'd said stay, I believe he'd have turned back into his old berth.”
”I didn't, because I wished him to do better. You know he'd have a splendid chance here in California--to get rich by gold-digging, which no doubt he might, like a great many other humble sailors as himself.
But now, this other chance has turned up in his favour, which I should say is surer. Don Gregorio has told us he can get from the Chilian captain almost any pay he may please to ask; besides, a fair likelihood of being made his first mate. That would suit Harry to a hair; in my opinion, answering his purpose far better than any gold-was.h.i.+ng speculation. Though a man of first rating aboard s.h.i.+p, he's a mere child when ash.o.r.e; and would be no more able to protect himself against the land-sharks of San Francisco, than he was to get out of the way of that sea-skimmer at Guaymas. Even if he should succeed in growing rich up the Sacramento River, I'd lay large odds, he'd be back here in port, and poor as ever, within a week. We must save him from that if we can.
His natural element is the ocean. He has spent the greater part of his life on it, and here's a fine opportunity for him to return to, and stay upon it. That for life, if he likes, with better prospects than he could ever have had on board a man-o'-war. The question is, how we shall be able to find him in this rookery of a place. Did he say anything, when you saw him, about where he was sojourning!”
”By Jove! he just did. Now, I recall our conversation, I remember him telling me that he was staying at a sort of a boarding-house, or restaurant, called the 'Sailor's Home,' though he made no mention of the street. But, if I mistake not, I know the place, and can steer pretty straight for it.”
”Straight or crooked, let's set head for it at once. We've plenty of time, if that were all. I told the c.o.xswain not to come for us till well after eleven. I want to see something of this queer Californian life, of which I haven't had much experience yet.”
”The same with myself.”
”Well, we may never again get such a chance. Indeed, it's not likely we'll be allowed another night ash.o.r.e, before the _Crusader_ sails.
Therefore, let us make hay while the sun s.h.i.+nes, or, to speak less figuratively, a little merriment by the light of the moon. We've been either savage, or sentimental, all the day, and need changing our tune.”
”You're right about that; but the music is not likely to be made by moonlight--not much of it. See those great clouds rolling up yonder!
They'll be all over the sky in ten minutes' time, making it black as a pot of pitch.”
”No matter; for what we want, gas-light will serve as well; and there's plenty of that in San Francisco. Now for Harry Blew. After him, whisky punches at the _Parker_.”
”And after that?”
”A _h.e.l.l_, if you feel that way inclined.”
”Surely, Ned, you don't want to go gambling!”
”I want to see life in San Francisco, as I've said; and, as you know, gambling's an important part of it. Yes; I wish to inspect the elephant, and I don't mind making an attempt to draw the teeth of the tiger. _Allons_! or, as I should say, in the softer language of Andalusia, _Nos vamos_!”
Thus jocosely terminating the conversation, the young officers continue on at increased speed, and are soon threading the streets of San Francisco in search of the ”Sailor's Home.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.
A TAR OF THE OLDEN TYPE.
Harry Blew is a tar of the true man-o'-war type; this of the time when sailors were sailors, and s.h.i.+ps were oak, not iron. Such s.h.i.+ps are scarce now; but scarcer still the skilled men who handled their ropes, and kept everything taut and trim--in short, the true tars.
Than Harry, a finer specimen of the foremast-man never reefed topsail, or took his gla.s.s of grog according to allowance. Of dark complexion naturally, exposure to sun, sea, and storm has deepened it, till his cheeks and throat are almost copper-coloured; somewhat lighter in tint upon Sundays, after they have had their hebdomadal shave. His face is round, with features fairly regular, and of cheerful cast, their cheerfulness heightened by the sparkle of keen grey eyes, and two rows of sound white teeth, frequently, if not continuously shown in smile. A thick shock of curling brown hair, with a well-greased ringlet drooping down over each eyebrow, supports a round-rimmed, blue-ribboned hat, well aback on his head. His shaven chin is pointed and prominent, with a dimple below the lip; while the beardless jaws curve smoothly down to a well-shaped neck, symmetrically set upon broad shoulders, that give token of strength almost herculean. Notwithstanding an amplitude of s.h.i.+rt-collar, which falls back full seven inches, touching the shoulder-tips, the throat and a portion of the expansive chest are habitually exposed to view; while on the sun-browned skin of the latter may be seen a tattooed anchor. By its side, but not so openly exhibited, is the figure of a damsel done in dark blue--no doubt a souvenir, if not the exact similitude, of a sweetheart--some Poll of past time, or perhaps far-off port.
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