Charlie Codman's Cruise

VI.

CHARLIE AT HOME

The tenement-house owned by Peter Manson was a three-story wooden building, very much in need of paint. It was scarcely likely to be pointed out by any one as one of the architectural ornaments of the city. Years before it had fallen into Peter's hands at a small price, and he had every year since realized from it in the way of rent a sum equal to one half the purchase-money. No one who has lived in a city can help knowing how much more proportionally the poor are compelled to pay for their scanty and insufficient accommodations than the rich, or those in moderate circumstances. No class of property is made to pay a larger percentage than the wretched tenement-houses which seem adapted to furnish as little accommodation as possible to those who are compelled to occupy them.

The tenement-house in which Charlie and his mother lived was no better than the average. It was the home of a large number of persons of various occupations. Seamstresses, mechanics, washer-women, and many others found a home under this one roof.

Mrs. Codman occupied a room on the third floor. As we enter the room it is easy to see what a charm can be thrown around even the humblest place by the presence of refinement and good taste. All the appointments of the room, indeed, were of the cheapest description. Probably the furniture did not exceed in cost that of the room opposite. Yet there was a considerable difference in the appearance of Mrs. Codman's room and that of Sally Price, who, if she had ever possessed an organ of neatness, had lost it years ago.

The old-fashioned windows were washed as clean as water could make them, so as to admit all the sunshine which could find its way over the tall roof on the opposite side of the street. They were hung with plain chintz curtains, separated in the middle and looped on either side. The floor was quite clean as far as it could be seen. In the centre was spread a floor-cloth some eight feet square, which relieved its bareness. There was a small round table near the window, and a small square work-table of no very costly material, in another part of the room. On this was placed a rose-bush in a flower-pot. It had been given to Charlie by an old gentleman who had taken a fancy to him. In another quarter was a home-made lounge, the work of Charlie's hands. It had originally been a wooden box, given him by a shopkeeper near by. This box had been covered with calico stuffed with cotton, so that it made quite a comfortable seat. It was used besides as a wood-box, its legitimate province, but when the cover was closed it was nevertheless a very respectable article of furniture. There were besides a few plain wooden chairs, and a small rocking-chair for Mrs. Codman. Opening out of the main room was a small bedroom, occupied by the mother, while Charlie had a bed made up for him at night in the common sitting-room.

A few books—a very few—were piled upon the little table. They were chiefly schoolbooks,—an arithmetic, a geography, and an atlas, over which Charlie would generally spend a portion of every evening, and occasionally a boy's book, lent him by his friend Edwin Bangs, who, together with his brothers, had quite a large juvenile library.

Mrs. Codman is sitting by the window industriously engaged in needle-work, and intent on accomplishing a certain amount before nightfall. She was past thirty-five, yet, in spite of the trials which have left their impress on her brow, she would readily be taken for five years younger. She has drawn her chair to the window to make the most of the rapidly fading daylight. As with swift fingers she plies the glistening needle, and the sun touches her cheek with a beaming glow, we can see that not only has she been beautiful, but is still so.

A hasty step is heard on the stairs, there is a stamping at the door, and in rushes a bright, handsome boy, with rosy cheeks and dark hair.

The mother's face lights up with a bright smile as she turns to her son, the only one she has left to love.

"You're a little later than usual, Charlie, are you not?"

"A little, mother. You see I didn't get a job till late, and then two came together."

"What were they?"

"A gentleman wanted me to take his carpet-bag from the Maine depot, and I had to carry it away up to Rutland Street."

"Did he go with you?"

"No; he had to go to his counting-room in State Street."

"Was he willing to trust you? Some boys might have made off with the carpet-bag, and he would have never seen it again."

"He thought of that, but he said—and I think he's a real gentleman—that he knew I was honest by my appearance, and he was willing to trust me."

"Quite complimentary, Charlie. How much did he pay you for your trouble?"

"Half a dollar."

"Then you have done a good deal better than I have. I have been working all day, and shall not realize more than twenty-five cents for my labor."

"I wish you didn't have to work at all, mother."

"Thank you, Charlie; but I dare say I am happier for having something to do. I wish I could get better pay for my work. But you haven't told me what the other errand was. You said you had two."

"Yes," said Charlie, "I had just got back from Rutland Street, and had bought two or three evening papers which I was going to try to sell, when a man came up to me, and after looking at me for a minute or two, asked me if I would take a little walk with him. He said he was a stranger in Boston, and didn't know his way about much. He asked me if I had lived here long, and what my name was. He told me he would pay me if I would go around with him, and point out some of the public buildings. He told me he would pay me at the rate of twenty-five cents an hour for my time. I told him I had one or two papers to dispose of."

"'Never mind about them,' said he, 'I will take them off your hands.'

"'But they are alike,' said I.

"'Never mind,' he answered; so he paid me the full price for two Journals and two Transcripts, and off we went."

"What sort of a person was he?"

"He was a stout man, over forty, and looked to me like a sailor. I shouldn't wonder if he was an officer of some ship."

"Did you like his looks?"

"Why," said Charlie, hesitatingly, "not exactly; not so much as I did of the other gentleman. There was something about his eye which I didn't like. Still he acted up to his agreement, and paid me all he promised."

"How long were you together?"

"About an hour and a half. We walked round the Common and the Public Garden, went into the State House and the Public Library. However, he didn't seem to care much about them. He seemed to take more interest in me, somehow, and asked me a good many questions; whether I had any parents living, and how long I had lived in the city. When I told him you were born in Havana, he said he used to live there himself."

"Indeed!" said Mrs. Codman.

"He also told me that he might like to have me go round with him again, and told me to call to-morrow at the Quincy House, where he is stopping. But, mother, isn't it most time for supper? Here, just let me set the table, if you are busy."

"Very well, Charlie; I shall be glad to have you do so, as I am in a hurry to finish my sewing."

In the evening Charlie read to his mother while she sewed. Neither of them suspected that it was the last evening they would spend together for several months.

VII.

CAPTAIN BRACE

Lying at one of the wharves was a ship of moderate size, evidently fast getting ready for sea. The cargo had all been stowed away, and, notwithstanding the confusion, it was easy even for a landsman to see that the ship was about ready for departure.

The ship was the Bouncing Betsey, commanded by Captain Nathaniel Brace. As to the peculiar name of the vessel, I can give no information whether or not there was a real Bouncing Betsey after whom it was named. The probability however is, that it was a purely ideal name, the sound and alliterative character of which had commended it to the one upon whom rested the selection of a name.

A few words now about Captain Brace, with whom we shall become better acquainted by and by.

He was a short, stout, broad-shouldered man. He was no fresh-water captain, but from the age of thirteen had been tossing about on the ocean. It is my privilege to know many sea captains who do honor to their calling, high-toned, gentlemanly, and intelligent men; not learned in books, but possessing a wide range of general information. I am sorry to say that Captain Brace was not a man of this class. He had little education beyond what was required by his profession, and was utterly lacking in refinement and courtesy. He was not an amiable man, but rough, stormy, exacting, and dictatorial. The crew under his command he looked upon as so many machines, whose duty it was to obey him with scrupulous exactness, whatever might be the nature of his requisitions. When he got into one of his fits of passion, he would stamp and rave, kicking and striking this way and that with the most reckless disregard of human lives and human feelings. In fact, he was one of those pests of the merchant service, an unfeeling tyrant, who did all in his power to degrade the profession which he had adopted, and add to the hardships which lie in the path of the sailor.

The employers of Captain Brace were far from being aware of the extent to which he carried the severity of his discipline; brutality, indeed, would be the more appropriate word. They supposed him to be a strict commander, who liked to preserve a proper subordination in those under his command, and this they were disposed to commend rather than to complain of, more especially as the captain was master of his profession, and had usually made quick and profitable voyages. This, as may be supposed, was enough to cover a great many defects in the eyes of those whose pecuniary interest he subserved, even if the captain had not been shrewd enough to conceal his more disagreeable traits when on shore, under an affectation of bluff frankness.

There was a time when there were many captains in the service no better than the one we have just sketched, but both in the naval and merchant service there has undoubtedly been a great improvement within a few years.

Without dwelling further on the personal characteristics of Captain Brace, with whom we shall have abundant opportunity to become acquainted, since we purpose going to sea with him on his approaching voyage, we introduce him pacing the deck of his vessel with a short black pipe in his mouth, on the very morning he intends to sail.

"Where is Mr. Randall? has he come on board?" he inquired, turning to the second mate.

"No, sir; I have not seen him this morning," was the reply.

"When he comes on board tell him I wish to see him immediately."

"Very well, sir."

The captain went to his cabin, and about five minutes later the individual after whom he inquired came aboard. We recognize in him an old acquaintance; no other than the nocturnal visitor who excited such fearful apprehensions in the mind of old Peter Manson the miser.

"Where is Captain Brace, Mr. Bigelow?" he inquired of the second mate.

"In the cabin, Mr. Randall. He wishes to see you."

"And I wish to see him, so we can suit each other's convenience. How long since did he ask for me?"

"Only two or three minutes. He has just gone below."

"Then he hasn't had long to wait."

With these words he hastened to the cabin, where he found the captain waiting for him.

The subject on which the captain wished to see his first mate was purely of a professional and technical character, and will not be likely to interest the reader, and so will be passed over.

When this preliminary matter was disposed of, Randall, with a little hesitation, remarked: "I have a little favor to ask of you, Captain Brace."

"Very well, sir; let me know what it is, and if I can conveniently grant it I will."

"The boy who had engaged to go with us has backed out, having heard some ridiculous stories about your severity and–"

The captain's brow grew dark with anger as he said:

"The young rascal! I should like to overhaul him! I'd show him what it is to see service!"

There is very little doubt that the captain would have kept his word.

Randall took care not to inform his superior officer that he had privately communicated to the mother of the boy intelligence of his severity, not from any motives of humanity, but simply because his going would have interfered with his own plans in respect to Charlie.

"We shall not have much time to hunt up a boy if we sail at three o'clock," said the captain. "I don't see but we must go without one."

"I think I can supply you with one, Captain Brace."

"Ha! who is it?"

"It's a nephew of mine, and the favor I spoke of was that you should take him in place of the boy we have missed of."

"Humph!" said the captain, "there is one objection I have to taking relations of the officers. You are expected to be tender of them, and not order them about as roughly as the rest."

"There won't be any trouble of that sort in this case, Captain Brace, you may be very sure," said the mate. "Although the boy is my nephew I don't feel any very extraordinary affection for him."

"I should think not," said the captain, with a grim smile, "from your efforts to get him a place on board this ship. You're not any more gentle with boys than I am."

"The fact is, Captain Brace," said Randall, with a smile which evinced a thorough understanding of the captain's meaning; "the fact is, the boy is unruly, and they can't do much for him at home, and I thought it might be well for him to try a voyage or two, for the benefit of his health!"

The mate smiled, and as it was such a joke as the captain could appreciate, he smiled too.

"Very well, Mr. Randall; if such are your views I have no objection to his coming on board."

"I had fears," continued the mate, "that his unruly temper would interfere with his usefulness at home. I felt pretty sure we could soon cure him of that."

"Kill or cure, that is my motto," said the captain.

"Sometimes both," thought Randall, remembering one boy in a previous voyage who had languished and died under the cruel treatment he experienced on board.

"Does the boy know he is to go with us?" inquired the captain.

"Bless you, no; not he! He'd make a fuss if he did."

"How do you intend to get him on board, then?"

"I shall invite him to come and see the vessel, and when he is down below I can take care that he stays there till we are fairly at sea."

"A good plan. What is the youngster's name, Mr. Randall?"

"Jack Randall; named after me."

"Humph! hope he'll do credit to the name," said the captain, grimly. "I leave in your hands all the steps necessary to securing him. Remember, if you please, that we shall sail at three."

"I will be on board before that time, sir, and bring my nephew with me."

"Very well, sir."

Of course the reader has conjectured that the Jack Randall, the mate's nephew, spoken of above, is no other than our young hero, Charlie Codman.

Poor boy! little does he dream of the plot that is being formed against him.

VIII.

THE BLUE CHEST

On leaving the Bouncing Betsey, Mr. John Randall, the estimable mate of that vessel, bent his steps towards a shop devoted to sailors' clothing ready-made, with a large variety of other articles such as seamen are accustomed to require.

It was a shop of very good dimensions, but low studded and rather dark, the windows, which were few, being in part covered up by articles hung in front of them.

The proprietor of this establishment was Moses Mellen, a little Jew, with a countenance clearly indicating his Israelitish descent. His small black eyes sparkled with the greed of gain, and he had a long, hooked nose like the beak of a bird, which would not have been considered too small an appendage for a face of twice the size. He had one qualification for a successful trader—he seldom or never forgot a face which he had once seen.

Rubbing his hands with a great show of cordiality, and with his face wreathed in smiles, the instant he espied Randall he hastened to meet him.

"Delighted to see you, Mr. Randall," he exclaimed; "perhaps I ought to say Captain Randall."

"Not yet."

"Ah well, that will come soon. I hope you have had a prosperous voyage."

"Tolerably so, Mr. Mellen."

"Have you just arrived in the city, or have you been here for some time?"

"Three weeks only, and now I am off again. We sailors don't have a chance to stop long on dry land, Mr. Mellen."

"Not if they are such capital sailors as my friend, Mr. Randall. But where are you bound this time?"

"Probably to Valparaiso."

"Anywhere else?"

"Perhaps so. We may go to the Indies or Sandwich Islands before we return."

"A long voyage,—you will need to be fitted out before you start,—don't you want something in my line? I sha'n't want much profit out of an old friend like you."

This, by the way, was what Moses said to pretty much all his customers.

"I shall want a few things. I will pick them out now."

"This way, then."

Randall followed the proprietor to the back of the store, where he selected a variety of articles, which he ordered sent on board the Bouncing Betsey immediately.

"Now," said the mate, after his own purchases were completed, "I shall require a small outfit for a boy who is going out with us."

"If you had brought him with you we could have furnished him at short order."

"There was one little difficulty in the way of my doing that."

"Eh?"

"He doesn't know he is going."

"Ah ha!" said the Jewish dealer, putting one scraggy finger to the side of his nose with a knowing look; "that's it, is it?"

"I see you comprehend. Now tell me what shall we do about fitting him?"

"If I could only see him–"

"You could judge by your eye what would be likely to fit him. Is that what you would say?"

"Precisely."

"And how long would you require to look at him?"

"Two minutes would answer."

"Very well; I will call with the boy in the course of an hour or two. By the way, I shall want a small chest to put the articles in. You keep them, of course?"

"A great variety."

"I dare say you will suit me. A very plain one will answer. Have your bill made out for the other articles, and I will discharge it."

With a profusion of bows and thanks, the trader dismissed his customer.

The mate now betook himself to the hotel where he had engaged Charlie to meet him at eleven o'clock. Charlie, who was always punctual to his appointments, had already arrived, and was looking over a newspaper in the reading-room.

"So you are on hand, my boy," said Randall, in a friendly manner.

"Yes, sir."

"I am glad to find you punctual. Are you ready to set out?"

"Yes, sir, quite ready."

Rather to keep up the boy's delusion as to his designs, Randall suffered Charlie to guide him to one or two places of public interest, with which he was already more familiar than his guide, and then suddenly proposed that they should go down to the wharves.

"You must know, my lad," said he, "that I am a sailor."

"I thought so, sir."

"What made you think so?"

"I don't know, sir; but I can generally tell a sailor."

"Perhaps I haven't got my sea-legs off. However, as I was saying, I am an officer on board a ship lying at the wharf, and I have just thought of a bundle I want brought from the ship. If you will go with me and fetch it, I will pay you at the same rate I promised you for going about with me."

Of course Charlie had no objections. In fact, although he had been on board ships at the wharf, he had never been in company with an officer, and he thought it possible his companion might be willing to explain to him the use of some parts which he did not yet understand. Accordingly he gave a ready assent to the mate's proposition, and together they took their way to Long Wharf, at which the ship was lying.

The shop kept by the Jew was, as a matter of convenience and policy, located near the wharves. It was not a general clothing-store, but specially designed to supply seamen with outfits.

"I have a little errand here," said Randall, pausing before the shop of Moses Mellen.

"I can stop outside," said Charlie.

"You had better come in. You will see where we sailors get our clothing."

Not suspecting any sinister design in this invitation, Charlie accepted it without more ado, and followed Randall in. He looked about him with some curiosity, not observing that he too was an object of attention to the Jewish dealer, whose quick eye detected their entrance.

He went forward to meet Randall.

"You see the boy, do you?" asked the mate, in a low voice.

"Is that the one?"

"Yes. Do you think you will be able to fit him?"

"No doubt about it, though he is a little smaller than the boys we usually fit out."

"Never mind if the clothes are a little large. He'll be sure to grow to them, and a precise fit isn't quite so important on the quarter-deck as it might be on Washington Street. We are not fashionable on board the Betsey, Mr. Mellen."

The dealer laughed, showing some yellowish tusks, which were evidently not supplied by the dentist.

"Have you made out my bill?"

"Here it is."

"While I am looking over it, will you pick out such clothes as the boy will need?"

Darting a hasty glance at Charlie, to make sure of his size, the dealer hurried to the rear of the shop, and commenced selecting articles which he laid away in a small blue chest.

The task was soon completed, and again he came out to the front part of the store.

"All ready!" he said, in a low voice to Randall.

"You have been quick. Here is the amount of your bill. As to the chest, you may send it on board the Bouncing Betsey without any unnecessary delay."

"It shall be done, Mr. Randall. Have you no further commands for us?"

"I believe not, to-day."

"You will remember our shop when you are round again?"

"I won't forget you."

"You needn't accompany me to the door, nor allude to my voyage," said Randall, in a low voice, to the dealer. "Remember, I have him with me."

Moses winked in a manner which by no means improved the expression of his not very agreeable features.

"Now, my lad," said Randall, "we'll go on board the vessel. Have you ever been on board a ship?"

"Yes, sir, a good many times by myself, but I never had any one to tell me the different parts."

"I'll promise, then," said the mate, in a tone whose significance was lost upon our hero at the time, though he afterwards recalled it, "that you shall know more about a vessel before you leave this one."

"I thank you," said Charlie, considering the offer a kind one.

They ascended the ladder and jumped upon the deck of the vessel, which, though Charlie knew it not, was to be his home for many a weary day.

IX.

ON BOARD

At the close of the last chapter we had got our hero fairly on board the Bouncing Betsey, on what he supposed to be a brief visit, but which his companion had resolved should be far otherwise.

Randall did not at first undeceive his youthful attendant. He felt that it would hardly be polite, as the ship was lying at the wharf surrounded by other vessels, and the disturbance and vigorous resistance which Charlie would be apt to make when told what was in store for him might attract a degree of attention which might prove fatal to his plans.