He was now called upon for his story. This he told frankly and without reservation to the captain and the passengers who had gathered about him. His manner was so modest, manly, and self-possessed, that no one for a moment questioned the truth of what he said, and all were prepossessed at once in his favor.
“Well, youngster,” said Captain Scott, “it appears that you’ve had rather a rough experience. I’ll try to treat you a little better than did Captain Brandon. We sea-captains are not all black sheep. There are some of us, I hope, that have common humanity.”
Captain Scott was a bluff, hearty sailor, with a large heart, full of kindly impulses. In times of danger he was rough and dictatorial, as was perhaps necessary, but at other times he followed the dictates of a kind heart and generous nature, treating the sailors under his command so well that no one would leave him unless obliged to do so.
Among those who listened with the greatest interest to Harry’s story was Maud Lindsay. When it was over she called her father aside.
“Papa,” she said, “I have a favor to ask.”
“Well, puss?”
“I want you to be kind to this boy,—Harry Raymond.”
“How do you want me to be kind to him?”
“I want you to pay his passage to Melbourne, and help him after he gets there.”
“Whew, Maud! You seem to have taken a sudden interest in the young man. I suppose you will be wanting to marry him when we get to Melbourne.”