Hubert and his friend at length came on deck: Lisbon, with its noble bay and high lands, could be seen in the distance, and the boat was lowered to convey the passengers to the small vessel that would take them up the river to the town. "Farewell!" it was the last word from Hubert's lips that sounded upon the traveller's ears as he was wafted over the billows that rolled upon the shores of Portugal; "Farewell!" echoed back upon the air, and Hubert, drawing a deep sigh, began already to feel lonely: he had made no other friend in the ship, and he returned to his cabin; he sat down, and began to think over the conversations he had had with his friend, and he wondered again and again whether he himself was not indeed that once reckless boy, who in years gone by had won the sympathies of the noble heart which had now won his. So many incidents in that short narrative had a counterpart in his memory, that at last nothing could persuade him but that it all referred to himself; then how sorry he felt that he had not told his friend more about himself; and, less at ease than he had felt for many months, he closed the door of his cabin, and buried his face in his hands.
Poor Hubert! His heart was growing as tender as it was once hard, and recent sickness had unfitted him to encounter, without emotion, the many visions of that youth-time which now came so vividly before him.
"God grant that I may find them living!" he said earnestly; but then his memory brought back again some of the forebodings and inward whisperings which had often, in bygone years, checked for a moment his reckless course, and his heart told him again that his mother was no more. It came like a deep sorrow to Hubert, like a mighty wave throwing back every torrent upon which it rolled; but he had learnt how to contend with grief, and soon the dim cabin lamp was lighted, and, as night grew dark, he sat and read the much-treasured portion of his mother's Bible. He gained comfort as he read page after page, and it may have been that the lamp grew brighter; at any rate, Hubert's face wore a happier beam, and when the sailor came into the cabin, he said, "Good evening, your honour; glad to see your honour looking better and cheerful like."
"Better, Ben! have I looked ill to-day?"
"Not ill, exactly, your honour," said Ben, "but a little landsman-like, just about the time the passengers for Portugal got adrift, when Mr. Collinton, yer honour's friend, left."
"Well, Ben, I was sorry to lose him; but how late it is! why, I have been reading two hours."
With the assistance of the sailor, Hubert retired to rest, but, just as Ben was leaving the cabin, Hubert requested that he would reach him the Bible that lay upon the table.
"I have a better Bible than this, yer honour," said Ben, as he handed the book; "I mean one that has it all in, not torn as this is; and, if yer honour likes, I'll fetch it, though it's not to every one I'd lend it."
"Why do you offer to lend it to me, then?"
"Because, yer honour, I'm sure you think a great deal of the Bible, and it's a pity you haven't one with all in; this has been bad enough used, at any rate, but some folks don't care how they destroy the Bible. I'm glad it's got into yer honour's hands; but, if you'll accept the loan of mine, I shall be proud to lend it to you; there's not a leaf out; it was the last thing my poor mother ever gave me, and I have used it now over twenty years."