For a moment the four young travellers stared breathless at this remarkable edifice, while Freddy eagerly explained:
“It’s my Great-uncle Joe’s ship that was wrecked here on Killykinick. He had sailed in her for years and loved her, and he didn’t want to leave her to fall to pieces on the rocks; and so he got a lot of men, with chains and ropes and things, and moved her up here and made her into a house.”
And a first-class house the “Lady Jane” made, as all the boys agreed when they proceeded to investigate Great-uncle Joe’s legacy. True, there was a lack of modern conveniences. The sea lapping the sands to the right was the only bath-room, but what finer one could a boy ask? There was neither dining room nor kitchen; only the “galley,” as Captain Jeb, who came up shortly to do the honors of this establishment, explained to his guests. The “galley” was a queer little narrow place in the stern, lined with pots and pans and dishes scoured to a shine, and presided over by another old man more crooked and leathery-visaged than Captain Jeb, and who seemed too deep in the concoction of some savory mixture simmering on his charcoal stove to give look or word to the newcomers who crowded around him.
“That is Neb,” said his brother, in brief introduction. “He don’t hev much to say, but you mustn’t mind that. It ain’t been altogether clear weather in his upper deck since he shipped with a durned pirate of a captain that laid his head open with a marline spike; but for a cook, he can’t be beat by any steward afloat or ashore. Jest you wait till he doses out that clam-chowder he’s making now!”
Then there was the long, low cabin that stretched the full length of the “Lady Jane,” and that—with its four cosy bunks made up shipshape, its big table, its swinging lamp, its soft bulging chairs (for Great-uncle Joe had been a man of solid weight as well as worth)—was just the place for boys to disport themselves in without fear of doing damage. All about were most interesting things for curious young eyes to see and busy fingers to handle: telescope, compass, speaking trumpet, log and lead and line that had done duty in many a distant sea; spears, bows and arrowheads traded for on savage islands; Chinese ivories and lacquered boxes from Japan. A white bearskin and walrus tusk told of an early venture into the frozen North, when bold men were first drawn to its darkness and mystery; while the Buddha from an Eastern temple, squatting shut-eyed on a shelf, roused good old Brother Bart into holy horror.
“I never thought to be under the same roof with a haythen idol. Put it away, my man,—put it out of sight while I’m in yer house; for I can’t stand the looks of it. I’ll be after smashing it into bits if ye lave it under me eyes.”
And his indignation was appeased only by the sight of the Captain’s room, which had been respectfully assigned to the “Padre,” as Captain Jeb persisted in calling his older guest.
Here Great-uncle Joe had treasures rare indeed in the good Brother’s eye: a wonderful crucifix of ivory and ebony; the silver altar lamp of an old Spanish monastery; a Madonna in dull tints that still bore traces of a master hand; a rosary, whose well-worn beads made Brother Bart’s pious heart warm.
“Indeed he was a God-fearing man, I’m sure, this uncle of laddie’s.”
“He was,” agreed Captain Jeb; “a little rough-talking sometimes, but all sailors are.”