“Ah, yes, I remember,” said the captain. “Mr. Jones! Ha! ha! I remember Mr. Jones: a very gentlemanly gentleman; and stop—you, too, are the son of a wealthy French importer; and—let me think—was not your great-uncle a barber?”
“No!” thundered I.
“Well, well, young gentleman, really I beg your pardon. Steward, chairs for the young gentlemen—be seated, young gentlemen. And now, let me see,” turning over his accounts— “Hum, hum!—yes, here it is: Wellingborough Redburn, at three dollars a month. Say four months, that’s twelve dollars; less three dollars advanced in Liverpool—that makes it nine dollars; less three hammers and two scrapers lost overboard— that brings it to four dollars and a quarter. I owe you four dollars and a quarter, I believe, young gentleman?”
“So it seems, sir,” said I, with staring eyes.
“And now let me see what you owe me, and then well be able to square the yards, Monsieur Redburn.”
Owe him! thought I—what do I owe him but a grudge, but I concealed my resentment; and presently he said, “By running away from the ship in Liverpool, you forfeited your wages, which amount to twelve dollars; and as there has been advanced to you, in money, hammers, and scrapers, seven dollars and seventy-five cents, you are therefore indebted to me in precisely that sum. Now, young gentleman, I’ll thank you for the money;” and he extended his open palm across the desk.
“Shall I pitch into him?” whispered Harry.
I was thunderstruck at this most unforeseen announcement of the state of my account with Captain Riga; and I began to understand why it was that he had till now ignored my absence from the ship, when Harry and I were in London. But a single minute’s consideration showed that I could not help myself; so, telling him that he was at liberty to begin his suit, for I was a bankrupt, and could not pay him, I turned to go.
Now, here was this man actually turning a poor lad adrift without a copper, after he had been slaving aboard his ship for more than four mortal months. But Captain Riga was a bachelor of expensive habits, and had run up large wine bills at the City Hotel. He could not afford to be munificent. Peace to his dinners.
“Mr. Bolton, I believe,” said the captain, now blandly bowing toward Harry. “Mr. Bolton, you also shipped for three dollars per month: and you had one month’s advance in Liverpool; and from dock to dock we have been about a month and a half; so I owe you just one dollar and a half, Mr. Bolton; and here it is;” handing him six two-shilling pieces.