“I do forgive, sir, if that is what is requested: but I cannot, and will not, accept of further favours.”
The Dominie urged in vain, and left me. Mr Tomkins also came, and argued the point without success. I was resolved. I was determined to be independent; and I looked to the river as my father, mother, home, and everything. As soon as my health was reinstated, Captain Turnbull one day came to me. “Jacob,” said he, “the lighter has returned: and I wish to know if you intend to go on board again, and afterwards go into the vessel into which Mr Drummond proposes to send you.”
“I will go into no vessel through Mr Drummond’s means or interest,” replied I.
“What will you do then?” replied he.
“I can always enter on board a man-of-war,” replied I, “if the worst comes to the worst; but if I can serve out my apprenticeship on the river, I should prefer it.”
“I rather expected this answer, Jacob, from what you have said to me already; and I have been trying if I cannot help you to something which may suit you. You don’t mind being obliged to me?”
“O, no; but promise you will never doubt me—never accuse me.” My voice faltered, and I could say no more.
“No, my lad, that I will not; I know you, as I think, pretty well; and the heart that feels a false accusation as yours does is sure to guard against committing what you are so angry at being accused of. Now, Jacob, listen to me. You know old deaf Stapleton, whose wherry we have so often pulled up and down the river? I have spoken to him to take you as his help, and he has consented. Will you like to go? He has served his time, and has a right to take a ’prentice.”
“Yes,” replied I, “with pleasure; and with more pleasure, from expecting to see you often.”
“O, I promise you all my custom, Jacob,” replied he, laughing. “We’ll often turn old Stapleton out, and have a row together. Is it agreed?”