‘Wall, Hepziber, yewrs ’s surely a hard case, ’n’ I kain’t fur th’ life of me see wut yew’re to do. Ef Pris is ’tarmined tu go her own way ’n’ wun’t listen to yew on the matter ’t all, ’n’ ef, ’s yew say, Jake’s doin’ his best t’ encourage her, yew’re jest brought face to face with th’ wall, ’s yew may say. My Rube w’d hev made her a good husband, an’ one ’bout whose record there couldn’t be any doubt; but I’ve seen fur a long time that she wuz jest puttin’ up with him like—she didn’t love him more ’n she did me, ’n’ you know she never took ter me, ner dad eyther. Go home ’n’ pray about it, Hepziber; it’s all we kin do. As fur myself, I’ve got ter wrassle with th’ Lord for my boy, fur how he’ll b’ar this I kain’t begin ter think.’
And with this cold comfort (to her), Widow Fish had to depart for the home she was beginning to feel a stranger in, after all these years, leaving Mrs. Eddy with a heart overflowing with sorrowful love for her only son. With a natural dread of the effect the news would have upon him, she put in practice all the simple arts she knew to keep him in ignorance of what was brewing, and finally succeeded, by the aid of her husband, in despatching him to Boston on business without his calling at the Fish place first. He was absent from home for a fortnight, and when he returned, after an hour or two spent with his father and mother, he rose and said, with a transparent attempt to conceal his eagerness:
‘I guess I’ll jest stroll over an’ see Pris. I’d like to tell her ’bout some o’ the Boston sights. ’N’ I’ve brought her a cunning little watch for a birthday present.’
The mother looked appealingly at her husband, who, answering her gaze with eyes full of fondness, rose, and laying his hand upon Rube’s shoulder, said:
‘My son, yew’re a man in years an’ strength, ’n’ I’ve brung ye up to be the good man I b’lieve y’ are. Y’ haven’t hed enny big trouble yet, but y’ know ther’ ain’t nothin’ in th’ world yew kin ’pend on till it’s tested. Yew’re goin’ ter be tested now. Priscilla’s married.’
The watch dropped from the young man’s fingers on to the stone floor and was broken. Except for that sound there was absolute silence: none of the three seemed to breathe. Presently Rube spoke:
‘Thank ye, father, fur tellin’ me plain ’n’ prompt. Now I think I’ll go upstairs ’n’ rest.’
And with heavy uncertain steps Rube left the kitchen, mounted to the little room he had occupied since he was a child, and shut himself in.
It was true. With a haste that was explained by the Captain as absolutely necessary on account of his ship being ordered to sea at a very short notice, he had pressed his suit when once he found how willing Priscilla was to take him at his own valuation. Mrs. Fish, thoroughly bewildered by the whole hasty proceeding, wandered about the house like an unquiet ghost, doing nothing either to help or hinder the preparations. Jake was unwontedly lavish with the funds necessary, and indefatigable in giving assistance, so that two days before Rube returned from Boston the newly married pair had departed for New Bedford with the intention of spending their honeymoon on board Captain Da Silva’s ship as she journeyed southward on the commencement of her long voyage. She was called the Grampus, and was one of the fine fleet of South Sea whaleships then sailing from New Bedford, although so ignorant were the farm-folk of Vermont of maritime matters that even Jake, smart as he fancied himself, had but the dimmest, vaguest idea of what the life was that his sister was going to be shut up to for the next three or four years. Still less did he care. As for Priscilla, she would have accepted unquestioningly any situation into which she might be brought so long as she was by the side of the man she worshipped with a fierce unreasoning intensity. Of Rube she never thought for more than a minute at a time, and then it was only with a sense of relief at the knowledge that he would trouble her no more. From her mother she parted without regret: there seemed to be no room in her mind for anything else but intense satisfaction in the prize she believed herself to have won. Even the prospect of seeing the great world which had once claimed all her desires was but a feeble unit now in the vast sum of her delight in the possession of Ramon Da Silva. Nor was her joy in the least damped by the masterful way in which he accepted all the affection she lavished upon him. To do him justice, he was hardly to blame for this. His career, from the time he had enlisted as a green hand on board of an American whaler at Fayal, in his sixteenth year, had been one long series of successes, due to the great force of his character, his utter unscrupulousness, and entire absence of fear. Step by step he had risen in his dangerous profession until he had become master of a whaleship, while his name was a household word among the fleet for smartness, courage, and—brutality.