“If I thought that you would stay with me, and do something for yourself,” said Captain Hyland, after hearing my story, “I would endeavour to make a man of you.”
My reply to this was, that I preferred a life on the sea to any other, and that I left Captain Brannon, for the simple reason that I did not like either him, or the man who had placed me under his control.
“Very well,” said the captain, “I’ll keep you awhile on trial; and if you prove ungrateful for what I shall do for you, you will injure yourself, more than you can me.”
After this conversation, he took me ashore, bought me a suit of clothes; and then told me to accompany him to his own home.
I found that Captain Hyland had a wife and one child—a girl about ten years of age.
I thought there could be nothing in the universe more beautiful than that girl. Perhaps there was not. Why should not my opinion on such subjects be as correct as that of others? But no man living could have looked upon Lenore Hyland, without being convinced that she was very beautiful.
Six weeks passed before the ship was again ready for sea; and during that time I resided at the captain’s house, and was the constant companion of his little daughter, Lenore.
In the interval, my kind protector asked me—whether I would not like to go to Dublin for a few days, and see my mother.
I told him that the “Hope” would then be in Dublin; and that I would certainly be handed over to Captain Brannon.
He reflected for a moment; and then allowed the subject to drop.