C. B. was completely taken by surprise and stammered out something, he knew not what in reply. But almost immediately there came bustling round a crowd of the passengers, as full of excitement as if the ship had been on fire, and poor C. B. wished he was anywhere out of it. Still the man who had first accosted him kept hold of his hand, occasionally patting it and murmuring disjointed sentences, until at last the captain of the ship burst into the group, saying—
“Now, ladies and gentlemen, this isn’t fair to our friend. As for you, sir,” turning to the man who was still holding C. B.’s hand, “you must think of yourself for your wife’s sake as well as your own. We shan’t be into San Francisco for three days, and you’ll have plenty of time between now and then to thank Mr. Christmas all you want.”
C. B. cast a grateful look upon the captain and fled forrard among the crew, where he was received as one of themselves, no fuss being made over him, but lots of questions asked about his swimming powers. Here he was quite at home, for such was the respect that every one down there felt for him that they modified their usual full-flavoured speech because they knew it was unpleasant to him, although the boss of the forecastle, a burly Californian, said after he had gone that he felt quite weak with the strain he had put upon himself in the matter of speech. “But,” he added, “I don’t grudge it him, for he’s the whitest man I’ve struck for a long, long spell, if he can’t stand a cuss word.”
The husband of the rescued lady having perfectly recovered begged to be allowed to meet C. B. again, and tender his thanks in company with his wife. So the meeting came off, when it appeared that they were a wealthy American pair, named Ogden, travelling in search of health, childless and most tenderly attached to each other. At first the gentleman’s proposal was to adopt C. B. as their son with all the advantages of such a position, but to this our friend returned so decided a negative that it was not again mooted. Then the pair wished to make C. B. a present of a large sum of money, to which he replied that he had no use for it, that he had done nothing that he would not have done for a beggar, and that he hoped they would think no more of the matter.
Thus coming to a deadlock there was no means of ridding themselves of their almost intolerable burden of gratitude, until C. B. said—
“I cannot take anything from you, not because of pride, but because I don’t want money; I hate the idea of getting fond of it, for I have learned how evil a thing it can be. But if you must do something to please me, help the poor whom I hear so much about and don’t know anything of. Our Lord says that the poor ye have always with you, and so you can never be short of means of doing good if you have got a lot of money. In any case, I won’t take your money; I’ve done nothing for it, and the only thing it could do for me would be to make me discontented with what I now see to be the happiest life on earth, that is, my dear island home.”
Gratitude and the business instinct struggled for the mastery in Mr. Ogden’s breast, coupled perhaps with a little resentment at C. B.’s attitude, for he was one of those men who hate being under an obligation. At last he went to Captain Taber and asked him to take C. B. in hand and show him the error of his ways. Of course Captain Taber flatly refused, knowing C. B. as he did, while his own fine honest pride gloried in the same quality being possessed by C. B., as he thought. So then Mr. Ogden was compelled to give up, and went about among the other passengers discontentedly airing his grievance and causing much mirth at the unusual spectacle of a man growling because he couldn’t get another man to accept his money.
The passage drew near to its close, and C. B., after rather anxious watching of his patient, came to the conclusion that there was some slight improvement in his strength. In consultation with the doctor that gentleman pronounced him as strong as he could ever expect to be, and that it would entirely depend upon his treatment during the long crossing of the Continent whether he would have a short or a fairly long lease of life with his friends. Upon this information C. B. devoted all his time to getting news about the travelling, best methods, little tips about accommodation, hotels, etc., secretly grieving for his lack of experience which might prevent him doing the best possible for his friend. The gentleman to whom he applied for information, purely by accident, was the millionaire father of Miss Stewart, who was apparently delighted to be of service to him. And during their conversation C. B. said in perfect innocence—
“I hope Miss Stewart is well; I haven’t seen her about the deck lately. I suppose I notice it more because she used to be the life and soul of the ship.”