"I learned that verse when I was boy," Gump muttered half to himself; "but I've forgotten it, like everything else. Well, thank 'ee, madam, for your book; I'll have a look at it now and then, and maybe return it when we get to Alexandria, where the passengers must disembark."
The captain buried the small volume in one of his capacious pockets, for he did not choose that anyone else should see it in his hand. It was Mrs. Evendale's allusion to her own bitter sorrow that had touched one tender place in the sailor's heart, for he had noticed the deep mourning which she wore, and had heard that she was a widow, and childless. The captain himself had lost an only child; he had known the pain of bereavement, and thought to himself, "There must be something in a religion which can give comfort in such a trial."
Everyone on board noticed that from this time the captain's manner was more polite to Mrs. Evendale than to anyone else on board. He always placed her at meal-time at his right hand, and never swore in her presence. Indeed, Captain Gump now rarely swore at all, and that only when taken, as it were, by surprise. The captain made no objection to Harold's saying grace before meals, and, on the following Sunday, was present at Divine service. Gump said nothing of what was passing in his own mind; perhaps he could not have put his thoughts into words. Little did he imagine how many earnest prayers were offered up for him in his vessel, or how often in his behalf was pleaded the promise in 1 John v. 16:
"If any man see his brother sin a sin, which is not unto death, he shall ask, and He shall give him life for them which sin not unto death."
[CHAPTER VII.]
MALTA AND ITS KNIGHTS.
THE voyage continued for some time without any incident worth recording. Gibraltar's stately rock was passed, and favourable breezes sent the "Alligator" rapidly along the blue Mediterranean.
Mrs. Evendale gave a good deal of attention to Shelah, the only child on board, but with little apparent result, except that of rousing the jealousy of Miss Petty, who was annoyed at her charge preferring any one—indeed every one—to herself. Shelah, she knew, was old enough and sharp enough to convey impressions to her parents, which might prejudice them against the guardian, and so injure Miss Petty's chance of having her return voyage made easy and lucrative by the charge of other children. Miss Petty tried petting, but Shelah would not be petted by her.
"My Lammikin," once began Miss Petty, in the presence of several auditors, to whom she wished to give an idea of her tenderness towards her little charge.
"I'm not your Lammikin, you are Miss Wolf!" cried the saucy little girl, encouraged by a laugh from some of the bystanders.