Part 19 (1/2)
But one thing the English have is this, Archie, sound common-sense and a love of derring-do.
”I was standing one day on the pier at Plymouth. I had played my way with my flute all this distance in the hopes of getting a s.h.i.+p. I was no more successful than before.
”On this particular day, Archie, the drum was up [the storm signal], the wind blew cold and high, and the seas tossed their white manes as they rushed each other up the bay. I was feeling very sad and disconsolate, when all at once I heard a voice say to a man beside me,--
”'I'll give a guinea to be taken out to yonder s.h.i.+p.'
”'I don't care to win no guinea,' said the fellow addressed, a hulking boatman in a rough blue jersey. 'I don't care to win no guinea on a day like this. 'Sides, sir, I hain't got no mate.'
”'I'll go,' I cried.
”'You!' said the gentleman; 'why, you're but a child.'
”'I'm a Scotch boy,' I replied, 'and I know boating well.'
”'All right, my lad; jump in.'
”It took us nearly an hour, but we did it.
”I was very wet, and the gentleman kindly took me below, and gave me warm coffee.
”'Now,' he said, 'I'm going to give you half a guinea, and the man half, for if he has to change the gold, he will cheat you.'
”'Are you captain of this s.h.i.+p, sir?' I asked.
”'I am, lad; I'm all that is for the captain.'
”'Well, sir,' I said, 'give the man all the guinea, and take me with you as a boy.'
”I then told him all my story.
”'We don't sail for a week,' he said, 'and if in that time you get your mother's consent, I'll be glad to have so plucky a youngster on board my craft.'
”My dear mother gave her consent, as you know, Archie; and so I became a sailor and a wanderer.”
I have but epitomised Kenneth's story. He took much longer time to tell it than I, the author of this little book, am doing, and besides, there was much conversation interspersed with it betwixt him and his old friend Archie.
The moon was high up above the forest trees before he finished, shedding a flood of golden light over mountain and sea, so, promising to resume his narrative next evening, Kenneth arose, and soon after all was silent and dark inside this peaceful cottage.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN.
KENNETH'S STORY (CONTINUED)--AT THE CAVE.
”On, on the vessel flies; the land is gone, And winds are rude in Biscay's sleepless bay; Four days are sped, but with the fifth anon, New sh.o.r.es descried make every bosom gay.”
Byron.
Scene: The Spanish Senor and his two guests, Kenneth and Archie, once more together, not in the mountain cottage to-night, but in a cave, close down by the edge of the sea. It was the sea that was lisping on the sands not far from where they sat on the rocks, but the view beyond was one of moonlight, trees, rocks, and water combined, altogether very beautiful, and in some respects almost English-like.
Yes, now by moonlight it looked thoroughly English, but if by day you had rowed round these rocks, you would soon have been undeceived, for sharks in dozens visited the deep water, and in the cracks beyond were alligators, active and strong, and very hideous-looking crabs often crawled up the wet black cliffs; and among the trees themselves were great snakes, deadly and venomous; but it all looked very quiet and lovely now.