But the parting was all over at last; and when the sun sank slowly behind the waves that night the Caledonia was far away on the western waters, ploughing her way southward, with the coast of Ireland a long distance on the weather-bow.
Tom was to be apprentice, and, as he was the only one on board, he messed in the saloon along with Captain Herbert and the first and second mate.
The boy had knocked about too long in his uncle’s little yacht to feel the effects of the ship’s motion in the shape of sea-sickness, so he sat down to supper that evening in very good spirits and with a healthy appetite.
They were just about to commence that meal, when in at the saloon door, with tail erect and something like a smile on his broad face, walked Tom the black cat.
“Purr-rrn!” he said well-pleasedly as he jumped on his master’s knee and rubbed his head against the boy’s chest.
Tom was too much surprised to speak, but the captain and mates laughed heartily.
“A stowaway!” said the former.
“Yes,” said Tom. “I have no idea how he got on board.”
“Well, never mind. I’ll wager a shilling he will bring us good luck.”
Black Tom was henceforth installed as ship’s cat; and the men were all most kind to him, for every sailor of them knew that though black cats will bring good luck to a ship, nevertheless if ill treated or lost overboard, the luck is sure to turn.