"I am cut to the heart that I can't work as a able-bodied seaman should," Colley would say. "But God will reward you for your goodness to me and the boy."
The captain puffed his short pipe, and said:
"I am an old hand now; but I say, Once get a taste of shipwreck like yours, and you are cured of your craze for the sea. Not that I am chicken-hearted, and I'd stand to my ship as your captain did—ay, and go down with her if needs must; but for all that it is a roughish life, and a terrible trial for them that love you and are left ashore."
"Ay! ay!" old Colley said, "there's the pinch. The youngster's father made off to better himself now ten years agone, and he's never been heard of from that day to this. Dead, of course; only the poor woman, his wife, won't believe it—so the lad says."
A day or two after this the captain called Jack, and said:
"The mate wants a word with you in private."
"What have I done to offend him, sir?" Jack said.
"Don't jump at conclusions, youngster. Did I say anything was wrong? Be off with you."
Jack went to the mate's berth, and found him sitting cross-legged on the edge, and looking mysterious.
"Is your name Harrison, young 'un?'