This was said in a careless tone of command, but withal with frankness and civility. The captain led him aft toward the taffrail, but in crossing the deck the little tot of a boy followed closely in his wake, and getting hold of the officer’s sword, which trailed along by 18 its belt-straps on the deck, he got astride of it, and seized on to the coat-skirts of the wearer. The little tug he gave caused the officer to turn round, and with a cheerful smile and manner he snatched the urchin up in his arms, kissed him on both cheeks, and as he put him down again and detached his sword for him to play with, he exclaimed,
“What a glorious little reefer you’ll make one of these days! Won’t you?”
“Oui! oui! mon papa!” said the little scamp, as he looked knowingly up in the officer’s face.
“Excuse my little boy, sir,” said his mother, who was in chase of him; and then turning to the child with a blush spreading over her lovely face, “It is not your papa, Henri! papa is in Kingston.”
“Ah! madame, I love children. I had once a dear little fellow like this, but both he and his sweet mother are in heaven now. God bless them!”
A flush of sadness tinged his cheeks, and he passed his hand rapidly across his eyes, as if the dream was too sad to dwell upon; but changing his tone, and while with one hand he patted the little fellow’s head, he went on: “Madame lives in Jamaica?”
“Oh yes; I was born there, but my parents were destroyed by an earthquake when I was quite a little child, and this good captain here carried my sister and myself to France soon after, where Monsieur––” here she hesitated and blushed with pleasure––“where I married my husband, who is a planter on the island. Perhaps you may know Monsieur Jules Piron?”
“Piron!” said the navy man, with warmth. “Ay, madame, for as fine a fellow as ever planted sugar! Know him? Why, madame, it is only a week ago that a lot of us dined with him at his estate of Escondido; you know it, madame? in the grand piazza which looks down the gorge. But he behaved very shabbily,” said the officer, as his face lighted up gayly, “for he kept a spy-glass to his eye oftener than the wine-glass to his lips, in looking out seaward, and in talking of his wife and the little boy he had never seen.”
“Oh, monsieur! you make me so happy,” said the lovely woman, as with sparkling eyes and heaving bosom she cried, “Banou! Banou! this gentleman has just seen your good master.”
The black, who had been standing near and guarding every movement of his little charge, who was trailing the sword about the deck, immediately approached the officer, and, falling on his knees, seized his hand and drew it toward his face.