Noiselessly he ascends to his room, and taking his clothes from the drawer, where they had been placed with care, makes them into a bundle, not forgetting the little bible, which was given him by his mother only the day before, as a birthday gift. Pausing in the upper hall, he listens, if he may get one last faint sound from those he holds so dear; but save the uneasy slumbers of Vingo, nothing is heard. All is now ready for his departure; stepping into the parlors, where hang the portraits of the family, he takes a farewell of each. The Sea-flower and his mother! his eyes fill with tears, and his heart is swelling into his throat; he is upon the point of retracing his steps, when his eye rests upon the features of his father. The daring boldness of the expression, which the artist had but too well portrayed, fires him with fresh courage; every nerve thrills with new life, and kissing the inanimate canvas, as if it were indeed his dear mother and sister, he tore himself away from home. Walking rapidly down the deserted street, without venturing a look back, he passes many an endeared object; the old white church, where he has been accustomed to worship, Sunday after Sunday, for many years, holds high its head in the bright moonlight, and the hands of the old town clock upon the tower, seem to beckon him to return. He falters; it would seem as if the very doors of the church would open and receive him. Throwing down the bundle, he kneels upon the door-stone, and breathes a prayer to heaven, to bless those who will enter therein when he shall be gone. Pressing his lips to the cold stone where they have trod, he rises, when lo! standing by his side, with the package of clothes in his mouth, is the old house dog, Nep; and as the watch in the tower cries, "past eleven o'clock, and all is well," he looks wistfully into his master's face, as if he would ask, is all well? What is to be done? in less than half an hour the ship will be towed out into the stream; there is no time to be lost, but the dog will not think of leaving his master, for his experience of years tells him it is a new thing for the boy to be wandering from home at this unseasonable hour. In vain did Harry attempt to drive the faithful creature from him, for never having been an unwelcome companion before, the dog did not understand his master's threatening gestures; yet he could understand that something was amiss, and for that reason kept close upon his master's heels, to shield him from all danger.
Arriving at the wharf, the boy once more attempted to drive the dog from him, when looking around, he espied a bit of rope, with which he made him fast to a post, and then clambered up the ship's side. Poor Nep, keeping his eye upon his master, laid him quietly down, until the lines were cast off, and the ship began to recede from the shore. O, Harry, could you leave the companion of your infancy thus, made fast to a yard rope, to shiver in the night air? It was his only alternative, for in taking Neptune with him he well knew would be robbing the household of one more endearment. No sooner had the ship started from her moorings, and Nep saw that his master was being borne away, than he gave a piteous howl, and with one bound parted the line which held him, and plunging into the tide, made vigorous attempts to reach the ship.
"Breakers on the larboard bow!" sung out the captain, who stood laughing to see the labors of the poor animal, who was becoming exhausted; "let's see who'll have the first harpoon!" and he hurled a billet at the dog's head as he was going down for the second time. Harry, seeing the action, cried out, "Save him! who will save my poor Nep?" and fell fainting upon the deck. Fortunately the hard-hearted man had missed his mark for once, and by the light of the moon, the poor fellow was seen, just under the bows, struggling feebly, as if about to give up, when an old tar, who had heard Harry's cry for help, sprang with the rapidity of thought, and seizing a rope, made it into a slip-noose, throwing it over the dog's head, nearly strangling him as he drew him out of the water. Together they lay motionless upon the deck, Harry and Nep, when the captain coming along would have stumbled over them, had he not caught at a halliard near by.
"What in the name of things unheard of, is all this?" exclaimed he, with an oath; "this indeed is a curious beginning for the little land-lubber! I've the greatest mind to set him ashore, to come to his senses at his leisure, and if I'm not greatly mistaken, he's but a young runaway at best; but we might as well keep him now, he'll do for testing the strength of our cats, and as for that other critter, Mr. Sampson, you may hand him over to the steward, and tell him I shall want a nice over-all when we get out where the ice makes an inch a minute."
Mr. Sampson, who had shipped as boat-steerer, the same that had rescued old Nep from drowning, lifted Harry in his arms, and carrying him below, laid him in his own hammock, where he also brought the dog, who was apparently lifeless, and laid him by his side. It was a long time before Harry was restored to consciousness, and when he had gained strength sufficient to raise himself upon one arm, he looked around in the darkness, perfectly bewildered; but as the remembrance of his situation slowly came to him, he called aloud, in agony of spirit, "Nep! poor drowned Neptune!" tossing upon his hammock, his arm came in contact with the creature's shaggy coat. Could it be Nep? rescued from the inhuman treatment of the captain? but he did not move! was he alive? Harry sprang from his bed, and making his way in the darkness he knew not whither, finally found himself in the captain's state-room, which was unoccupied, and seizing a candle, reached his hammock just as Mr. Sampson returned.
"Man alive! where did you get that light?" asked Sampson, apparently much terrified.
"O, sir, I took the first one I could find, for I must see if my poor Neptune is dead!" and he bent over him, smoothing his head, calling loudly, "Neptune! poor Neptune!" Sampson, recognizing the silver candlestick as belonging in the captain's state-room, hastened to return it, knowing well what the consequences would be, if that dignitary discovered that any one had dared to enter his room without orders; and giving Harry a few friendly hints, as to what his liberties would be, under their commander, he drew out a mysterious looking bottle from his jacket-sleeve, and diluting a small quantity of its contents, gave it to Harry to drink, which in his weak condition did not come amiss. Turning to the dog, the kind old tar commenced rubbing him vigorously, bathing his cold limbs with the spirit, glancing occasionally at the gangway, to see who might darken the descent. The dog at last gave signs of life, and to Harry's great joy, he looked up and recognized his master, Sampson assuring him, in his rough way, that the old fellow would soon be as good as new.
It was the last watch in the morning, and Harry, hearing loud voices on deck, ventured out. It was a clear, cold morning, the moon had gone down, and Venus was just rising in the east; on every side was the blue rolling water. They had left Nantucket miles behind. Sampson, who was on duty, seeing the boy looking out, as if he had come to the conclusion that the island had been submerged, shook out a reef in the line which he was making fast, that he might catch the boy's ear, and pointing to a dim light far down in the distant horizon, he remarked, "Look well, it's old Sankoty; I'm thinking you'll have seen different days when you make her again."
"Halloo, there, aft!" called out the captain; "has that kitten got to mewing? Bear a hand there, and square your mizzen topsail," added he, a tone of mockery.
The order had hardly left his lips, when Harry, with a hearty "aye, aye, sir!" sprang into the cross-trees, and in a twinkling had reached the masthead, calling out in a voice which brought to the mind of each old tar that he had once a mother,--"square away it is, sir."