I had, however, it appeared, struck upon a chord which jarred, and all the spirits of Mrs St. Felix vanished at once. So Virginia and I wished her a good evening, and returned home.
Chapter Twenty Eight.
Some little difference in the proceeds of this chapter, and my former “copper for Poor Jack, your Honour.”
On our arrival at my mother’s, I found a letter from Bramble, stating that he would be at Greenwich in two days, and, further, informing me that the honourable company had been pleased, in consequence of the report made of our good behaviour, to award to him the sum of two hundred pounds, and to me the sum of one hundred pounds, as a remuneration for our assistance in the capture of the privateer.
This was news indeed. One hundred pounds! I never thought that I should possess such a sum in my life. One hundred pounds! what should I do with it? My mother was astonished, and then fell into a very grave mood. Virginia was pleased, but appeared to care less about it than I thought she would have done. My father came in as usual with Ben the Whaler, and I read the letter.
“Why, Tom, that’s about as much prize-money as I have made in all my sarvice,” said my father, “and you’ve been afloat only four months. Come, missis, send for some beer, and let us drink Tom’s health, and success to him. God bless you, my boy! the papers say you deserved it, and that’s better than your getting it. I’m proud of you; I am, indeed, my boy: your father’s proud of you, Tom”—and here my father showed more emotion than ever I witnessed in him before; however, he put his lips to the porter-pot, and when he had drained it nearly to the bottom, he had quite recovered himself.
“Well, Tom,” said Ben, after he had finished the small modicum of beer left him by my father, “and what do you mean to do with all that money?”
“I’m sure I don’t know—I have no want of it—I have everything I wish for.”