CHAPTER II.
News from Home.
Mr. Langley had just commenced his supper with a ravenous appetite, stimulated by the tantalizing view of our previous gastronomic performances, which he had had through the sky-light, the mate and myself were on the point of going on deck to go ashore, the captain had just lighted a second cigar, when Mr. Brewster, who had relieved poor Langley in the charge of the deck, made his appearance at the cabin door, bearing in his hands a large packet.
"She's in, sir!" he shouted, "she came to anchor in front of the Lazaretto while we were at supper, and Bill here didn't see her. The quarantine fellows brought this along. Bill, you must be a bloody fool, to let a ship come right under our stern, and sail across the bay, and not know nothing about it."
Langley, whose regards for the supper-table had drawn his attention from the arrival of a ship which had been expected by us for more than a week, and by whom we had anticipated the receipt of the packet the skipper now held in his hands, Langley, I say, blushed, but said nothing, and turned toward the captain, who, with trembling hands, was cutting the twine which bound the precious bundle together.
Now our last letters from Boston had been written more than a year before, had been read at Calcutta, since then we had sailed fifteen thousand miles from Calcutta to Trieste, and from Trieste to Valetta, and here we had been pulling at our anchor for three weeks, waiting orders from my father by the ship which had just arrived; it is not wonderful, therefore, that the group which surrounded Capt. Smith were very pale, eager, anxious-looking men. How much we were to learn in ten minutes time; what bitter tidings might be in store for us in that little packet.
At last it is open, and newspapers and letters in rich profusion meet our gaze; with a quick sleight the captain distributes them, sends a half dozen to their owners in the forecastle by the steward, and then ensues a silence broken only by the snapping of seals, and the rattling of paper. Suddenly Mr. Stewart uttered an exclamation of surprise, and looking up from my letter, I noticed the quick exchange of significant glances between the captain and mate.
"You've found it out, then," said the skipper.
The mate nodded in reply, and gathering up his letters, retired precipitately to his state-room.
At this juncture, Mr. Brewster, who had just finished the perusal of a very square, stiff-looking epistle, gave vent to a prolonged whistle.
"Beats thunder, I swear!" said he, "if the old woman haint got spliced again—and she's every month of fifty-six years old."
"That's nothing," cried Langley, "only think, father has left the Atlas Bank, and is now Mr. Byrnes' book-keeper; and they talk of shutting up the Tremont theatre, and Bob here says that Fanny Ellsler is—"
"Avast there!" interrupted the skipper, "clap a stopper over all that, and stand by to hear where we are bound to-morrow, or next day. Have any of you found out yet?"
"No, sir," cried Langley and I in a breath, "Home, I hope."
"Not so soon," replied Captain Smith, "as soon as maybe we sail for Matanzas de Cuba, to take aboard a sugar freight for the Baltic—either Stockholm or Cronstadt; so that when we make Boston-light it will be November, certain. How does that suit ye, gentlemen?"
I was forced to muster all my stoicism to refrain from whimpering; Mr. Langley gave utterance to a wish, which, if ever fulfilled, will consign the cities of Cronstadt, Stockholm, and Matanzas to the same fate which has rendered Sodom, Gomorrah, and Euphemia so celebrated. Mr. Brewster alone seemed indifferent. That worthy gentleman snapped his fingers, and averred that he didn't care a d—n where he went to.
"Besides," said he, "a trip up the Baltic is a beautiful summer's work, and we shall get home in time for thanksgiving, if the governor don't have it earlier than common."
"Matanzas!" inquired Langley; "isn't there where Mr. Stowe moved to, captain?"
"Yes," replied the skipper, "he is Mr. Byrnes' correspondent there—"
"Egad, then, Frank, we shall see the girls, eh, old fellow!" and Mr. Langley began to recover his serenity of mind.
"Beside all this," added the skipper, "Frank has a cousin in Matanzas—a nun in the Ursuline Convent."
"So I have just found out," said I; "father bids me to be sure and see her, if possible, and says that I must ask you about it. It is very odd I never have heard of this before. By the bye, Bill, my boy, look at this here!" and I displayed a draft on Mr. Stowe for $200.
At this moment Mr. Stewart's state-room door opened, and he appeared. It was evident that he had heard bad news. His face was very grave, and his manner forced.
"Frank," said he, "you must excuse my company to-night. Langley will be glad to go with you; and as we sail so soon, I have a good deal to do—"
"But," said I, hesitating, "may I inquire whether you have received bad news from home?"
"On the contrary, very good—but don't ask any questions, Frank; be off, it is very late to go now."
"Langley," said I, as we were supping at a café, after the closing of the theatre, "isn't it odd about that new cousin of mine?"
"Ay,", replied my companion, "and it is odd about Stewart's actions to-night; and it will be odd if I don't kiss Mary Stowe; and it will be odd if you don't kiss Ellen; and it will be odd if I arn't made second mate after we get home from this thundering long voyage; and, finally, it will be most especially odd if we find all our boat's crew sober when we get down to the quay."
Nothing so odd as that was the case; but after some little difficulty we got on board, and Langley and myself retired to the state-room which we held as tenants in common.