As for old Masters, his face became the picture of woe when I informed him I was leaving the ship and the company’s service.
“You mark my words, Master Haldane,” said he in his most sepulchral manner, “many a one afore you has throwed up the sea, and what good has it done ’em? No good! Them that goes to sea oughter stick to the sea, that’s what I says; and if they throws it up, though I hopes you won’t, they allus live to repent it. I be truly sorry you be goin’, and ah, Master Haldane, I sed as how summet ’ud come of our seein’ that there blessed ghost-ship!”
“And so something has happened, bo’sun, and a precious lot too, my hearty!” said I, jokingly, as I stood on the gangway preparatory to going over the side. “But never mind that now, old shipmate! Good-bye to you, men, and thank you all for your kindness to me from the time I first sailed with you as a youngster.”
I really believe I could see a tear in the old bo’sun’s eye as he wished me farewell with the rest of them, the crew manning the rigging to give me a hearty cheer and “send off” that could be heard across the Mersey.
Thus it was that I took leave of the old barquey, and, my mother’s consent having been obtained before I finally settled with the colonel, no further arrangements had to be perfected beyond obtaining and preparing my kit, and a hasty run to the cottage to pay a last visit to my old mother and sister Janet, and wish them farewell for a few years, when I looked forward to returning to England and finding them both well and happy, and in more comfortable and prosperous circumstances.
That same afternoon Colonel Vereker and I started off by train from Liverpool for Southampton, at which latter port we embarked in the outward bound West India mail steamer, sailing for Colon, en route to Venezuela.