“I knowed, sir, you wouldn’t blow the gaff on a old shipmate.”
“Good-by, then,” said Captain Forrester. “You shall be made a watchman; and remember, if you get in any trouble you must manage to communicate with me; but I hope that prosperity may attend all of you, whom I can never forget and must always feel grateful to.”
The Widow Stubbs made a low bow, Jack Bell saluted, and Dicky, getting a lantern, lighted the captain to his boat, which lay at the foot of the cliff.
CHAPTER III.
DICKY’S PATRIOTISM.
Jack Bell very promptly got his appointment as a watchman, and soon every night he paraded the streets of Newport with a stick and a lantern, calling out the hours as the night slipped away. He never could bring himself, though, to calling as the other watchmen did,—the hour, and then, “All’s well!”—but sung out every half-hour the time according to the ship’s bells, always adding what the weather was, and where the wind lay, such as, “Six bells! Wind sou’-sou’-east!”
The townspeople soon got used to the old sailor’s way and he was not molested in his peculiar ideas of the time. At all events, evil characters who prowled by night had great respect for him after having once felt the force of his stick, because in spite of his age Jack’s arm was still stalwart, and he was not given to arguing with offenders.
At that time there was a large British fleet under Admiral Wallace lying off Newport, besides a large land force under General Prescott. It was impossible for Jack not to have a great many more acquaintances than he desired among the sailors of the fleet. But although his true story was more than suspected, it was perfectly well known that he had a powerful protector in Captain Forrester. Jack’s bold dive into the icy water had turned out a good thing for him. So Jack walked his beat all night, and went back at daylight to the Widow Stubbs’ cottage where he slept in the loft until midday, and was as little unhappy as he could be on shore.
The Widow Stubbs had spoken quite confidently to Captain Forrester of Dicky’s capacity to make a living, but it turned out not so easy as she fancied in spite of the fact that Dicky was strong and bright and willing to work. But he was only a twelve-year-old boy, and the war times made business of all sorts dull. Dicky worked around the wharves, but there were scarcely any merchant vessels plying, and the waterfront was almost deserted except by the British warships and crews.
The Americans held the opposite shore of Narragansett Bay, and Dicky imagined that on fine days he could see the American flag flying there, and the sight always made him feel very well disposed to run away again, but he never did.
Dicky, however, discovered very unexpectedly that he possessed a means of livelihood in his beautiful young voice, and in the songs that Jack Bell had taught him. But the treasure of Dicky’s life was a little dog’s-eared, ill-printed book of patriotic songs, all predicting the speedy overthrow of John Bull, and the certainty that the patriots would soon drive every British soldier and sailor off American soil. The book had been smuggled over from the Narragansett side, and was rather a dangerous possession. But as Dicky soon learned the songs all by heart, it would not have mattered if it had been found and destroyed.