C. B. felt that he hardly understood the mate’s curious remarks, but he was glad of the permission, and going forrard he slipped down into the dark triangular space where the crew lived, a funny abode as shore-people would think for thirty-two men to spend all their leisure time in for nearly four years. To his modest surprise he was welcomed as if he had been an admiral, every man trying to show him some attention. And when all had settled down and had riveted their attention on him he said—
“Boys, I’m going to leave you, to look after the poor skipper on his long journey home. But I felt as if I couldn’t go without coming into your midst, and telling you how thankful I am to have got on so well with all of you. I feel that I haven’t done my duty by you in one respect: I might have tried to tell you something about the God I love, I might have tried to show you how much He loves every one of you and would, if you would let Him, make up to you the loss as you think it of most of the good things that people have ashore.
“As it’s too late to do that now I’ll ask you to forgive me for not doing it before, for being so selfish as to enjoy my communion with Him and not try to get others to share it. And if you’ll let me I’ll kneel down in the midst of you here and pray that you may all learn from him direct, how good He is in all His ways and how not one of you is forgotten by Him.” And without any further preliminary C. B. fell on his knees on the black planks, and said—
“Dear Father God, bless the good shipmates I’m leaving. They come from all parts of Thy world, but whether they know Thee or not, whether any one has ever spoken to them about Thee or not, they are all Thy well beloved children. Show Thyself to them in all Thy love, keep them in the hollow of Thy hand at all times, give them the assurance that Thou art their Father, and that Thy dear Son Jesus Christ is their Saviour. Bless all my dear shipmates, for Christ’s sake. Amen.”
It was over, and Yankee, Portuguese, and Kanakas stared at C. B. and each other with heavily throbbing hearts, as wondering what this might mean. Evidently they were half expectant, half afraid of some supernatural visitation, but as C. B. rose from his knees with a streaming face and they all followed his example, a big slab-sided Vermonter came over to C. B. and held out his hand saying—
“We’re all a lot of heathen, I’m afraid, but you’ve give us a better idea of God Almighty than any of us ever had or likely to have. This ship’s been better for you bein’ aboard. We shall be better for your little prayer here to-day. Now we’ll bid you good-bye,” and turning to the crew he said—
“Boys, all of us can say to him God bless you and keep you the same good clean strong man you’ve allus been amongst us. Ef you hain’t preached or prayed, you’ve done what’s harder than either, I guess. You’ve lived such a life as we’ve never seen lived before, and if we ain’t the better for it, ’tain’t any fault of yours. Good-bye and God bless ye.”
C. B. could only brokenly echo the blessing, and shaking hands all round, looked lovingly into each face with their variations of expression or utter want of expression. Then he climbed on deck again, feeling as if he had been through an ordeal of the toughest kind. And then he found he had to face his berthmates, who all appeared strange to him. It was just the old story—they had taken but scanty interest in him while he was one of themselves; now he was about to leave them they recalled numberless instances of his lovingkindness, patience, courage and industry, and were in danger of going to the opposite extreme. The three Yankee boat steerers shipped in Honolulu held aloof entirely. They knew very little of C. B., and probably felt some little pride of race, looking down on one whom they ignorantly took to be a mere Kanaka. But Chips, the cooper, cook, and steward, were for them unusually demonstrative, and each pressed upon C. B. some little memento, some piece of scrimshaw work to show that they remembered some act of kindness long ago forgotten by him.
When this part of his ordeal was over he was tired out and turned in, falling asleep on the instant. But he was aroused almost immediately as it seemed to him, though it was at 3 a.m., by a trembling hand laid upon him. He sprang up in his bunk with his hands outspread, and one of them was seized by the intruder, who said—