There was rejoicing fore and aft at the glad news; for if there is one word in our language that can convey a thrill of happiness to a sailor’s heart, that word is “home.” And every seaman on board a ship carries about with him all over the world affections and ties with the dear ones he has left behind that nothing but death itself can sever.
“In nine months’ time, my lad,” said Captain Herbert cheerily to Tom, who was walking the deck with his constant companion the cat at his heels. “In nine months’ time I hope we’ll be sailing up the Clyde. We shall touch at Ecuador and at Callao, then steer away south.”
It was not the first time since they had sailed from England that the Caledonia had touched at Ecuador, so Tom was not surprised at what the captain now told him; for the grave of his wife was there on that rugged shore, and it was there, too, he had lost his boy.
“I’m getting old, Tom,” he added. “I cannot do now what I could have done ten years ago, and I fear I may never be on this coast again.”
Tom could hardly repress a sigh as he looked at him. He certainly was getting old, and very white in hair and beard; but probably it was his never-ending sorrow that had aged him quite as much as his years.
The Caledonia lay for many days near the spot where the Southern Hope was lost. Captain Herbert seemed to find a difficulty in tearing himself away this time. But when at last the wind began to blow high off the land, sail was set and away southwards once more went the good ship.
The captain was inexpressibly sorrowful as the vessel left the land, and Tom felt he could have given all he possessed in the world to dispel the clouds that hung so heavily over his dear old friend’s heart.
But Tom was too young to let sorrow depress him long, and that night after he had retired—for it would not be his watch on deck till the morning—he lay awake for hours thinking of home. How would every one be on his return, and how would they look?—his dear mother and quiet kindly father, his sister, his brother, and little ’Theena? But she would not be so very little now; and he supposed she would have forgotten him to a great extent, albeit she had written many a dear affectionate child-letter, every one of which Tom had kept under lock and key in his ditty-box. His mother’s letters were there also, and a score of other odds and ends that no one knows the real value of except a sailor. He did not fall asleep until he heard the middle watch called, and Holborn came down below, and with him Tom the cat; for this strange animal evinced quite an affection for the second mate, and frequently kept watch with him even on stormy nights.
But he jumped now into Tom’s bunk with a little fond cry, nestled down in his arms, and the two Toms were soon fast asleep.
The Caledonia had cargo to leave at Callao and some to take on board; so the seamen and officers were busy for a time, almost night and day, as the captain was anxious now that no time should be lost.