A moment’s reflection sufficed to convince Wilkins of the folly, as well as uselessness, of rebellion. Pocketing his pride and burning with indignation, he walked forward, while the tyrannical steward went grumbling to his own private den.
It chanced that night that the captain, ignorant of what had occurred, sent for the unfortunate stowaway, for the mitigation of whose sorrows his friend Ben Trench had, more than once, pleaded earnestly, but in vain. The captain invariably replied that Watty had acted ungratefully and rebelliously to a kind father, and it was his duty to let him bear the full punishment of his conduct.
Watty was still smarting from the rope’s-end when he entered the cabin.
“Youngster,” said the captain, sternly, “I sent for you to tell you of a fact that came to my knowledge just before we left port. Your father told me that, being unwilling to disappoint you in your desires, he had managed to get a situation of some sort for you on board a well-known line of ocean steamers, and he only waited to get the thing fairly settled before letting you know about it. There, you may go for’ed and think what you have lost by running away.”
Without a word of reply Watty left the cabin. His day’s work had just been completed. He turned into his hammock, and, laying his head on his pillow, quietly wept himself to sleep.
“Ain’t you rather hard on the poor boy, father?” said Polly, who had witnessed the interview.
“Not so hard as you think, little woman,” answered the captain, stroking the child’s head with his great hand; “that little rascal has committed a great sin. He has set out on the tracks of the prodigal son you’ve often read about, an’ he’s not sufficiently impressed with his guilt. When I get him into a proper frame o’ mind I’ll not be so hard on him. Now, Polly, go putt your doll to bed, and don’t criticise your father.”
Polly seized the huge whiskers of her sire, and giving him an unsolicited “nor’-wester,” which was duly returned, went off to her little cot.
We do not mean to trouble the reader with all the incidents of a prolonged voyage to southern latitudes, during which Philosopher Jack formed a strong friendship with Ben Trench and Watty Wilkins; continued his instruction of the amiable and unfathomable Baldwin Burr, and became a general favourite with the crew of the Lively Poll. Suffice it to say that all went well, and the good ship sailed along under favouring breezes without mishap of any kind until she reached that great ocean whose unknown waters circle round the Southern Pole.
Here, however, good fortune forsook them, and contrary-gales baffling the Lively Poll drove her out of her course, while tumbling billows buffeted her severely.