Chapter Twenty One.
An Unexpected Meeting.
As the man was dead, it was useless to trouble further about him, especially as there were so many of the living to be attended to; I therefore turned again toward the occupants of the cabin and said: “Ladies and gentlemen, I am very pleased to be able to assure you that you have no further cause for apprehension; the privateer has been captured and this vessel retaken by the boats of his Britannic majesty’s schooner Dolphin, under my command; my men are now busy, on deck and on board the brigantine, securing the prisoners; and it will be my duty—Good heavens—it cannot be—and yet it surely is—my father!”
I had, whilst speaking, been gradually advancing nearer to the table, and consequently more directly into the full light of the cabin lamps; and my speech had been interrupted, and the above startled exclamation wrung from me, by seeing one of the occupants of the sofas rise with difficulty to his feet to gaze with an expression of intense eagerness in my direction. My attention had thus, naturally, been attracted toward him, and I could scarcely credit the evidence of my senses when, in the worn and somewhat haggard features of the gazer, I recognised the well-remembered lineaments of my father. Yet so it was, there could be no mistake about it; for as I sprang toward him, he ejaculated my name, “Lionel,” and, overcome with emotion, reeled and fell, bound hand and foot as he was, into my arms. As I embraced him our lips met, and I then received almost the first paternal kiss of which I had ever been conscious.
I tenderly reseated him on the sofa, and, throwing myself on my knees before him, busied myself in casting loose the lashings which confined his feet, glad to have so good an excuse for bowing my head, and thus concealing the tears of emotion which sprang to my eyes. My father was even more overcome than I was. I felt his hot tears falling upon my hands as he bent over me; and it was not until I had completely released him that he regained composure enough to ejaculate, as he fervently grasped my hand:
“Thank God—oh! thank God for this most unexpected and welcome meeting, my precious boy, my own Lionel; and still more for your opportune arrival. You and your brave fellows made known your presence just in time to prevent what in another moment would have become a perfect pandemonium of violence, and probably of murder also. You are welcome, my son, most welcome, not only to me, but also, I am sure, to everyone else in this cabin.”
This assurance was heartily echoed by everybody present, with the exception of the unhappy lady in whose arms lay the wounded child, and she was evidently too much absorbed in her own grief to notice or be conscious of what was taking place. The sight of her and her misery recalled me to myself, and reminded me of the many duties I yet had to perform; so leaning over my father and pressing a kiss upon his forehead - down which, by the way, the blood was slowly trickling from a slight cutlass wound—I said:
“Thank you, dear father, for your affectionate greeting. I must not remain any longer with you, however, for the present, glad as I am to have so unexpectedly met you; I have many matters yet which must be attended to; but I will rejoin you without fail the moment I feel myself at liberty to do so. Meanwhile, have no fear of any further violence; a strong detachment of my crew is in possession of both vessels, and the schooner herself is not far distant. I will send some men in to release your companions from their bonds and to help you all in putting matters straight once more; and, as I see that several of you have been wounded in defence of the ship, I will at once despatch a boat—if, indeed, she be not already gone—for the Dolphin’s surgeon.”