“Name it.”
Here Noah drew out of his pocket a sort of basso relievo carved in pine. It represented Neptune armed with a harpoon instead of a trident; the captain always contending that the god of the seas should never carry the latter, but that, in its place, he should be armed either with the weapon he had given him, or with a boat-hook. On the right of Neptune was an English gentleman holding out a bag of guineas. On the other was a female who, I was told, represented the goddess of liberty, while it was secretly a rather flattering likeness of Miss Poke. The face of Neptune was supposed to have some similitude to that of her husband. The captain, with that modesty which is invariably the companion of merit in the arts, asked permission to have a copy of this design placed on the schooner’s stern. It would have been churlish to refuse such a compliment; and I now offered Noah my hand, as the time for parting had arrived. The sealer grasped me rather tightly, and seemed disposed to say more than adieu.
“You are going to see an angel, Sir John.”
“How!—Do you know anything of Miss Etherington?”
“I should be as blind as an old bumboat else. During our late v’y’ge, I saw her often.”
“This is strange!—But there is evidently something on your mind, my friend; speak freely.”
“Well, then, Sir John, talk of anything but of our v’y’ge, to the dear crittur. I do not think she is quite prepared yet to hear of all the wonders we saw.”
I promised to be prudent; and the captain, shaking me cordially by the hand, finally wished me farewell. There were some rude touches of feeling in his manner, which reacted on certain chords in my own system; and he had been gone several minutes before I recollected that it was time to go to the Hotel de Castile. Too impatient to wait for a carriage, I flew along the streets on foot, believing that my own fiery speed would outstrip the zigzag movement of a fiacre or a cabriolet tie flace.
Dr. Etherington met me at the door of his appartement, and led me to an inner room without speaking. Here he stood gazing, for some time, in my face, with paternal concern.
“She expects you, Jack, and believes that you rang the bell.”