Mrs Ellice was a loving, gentle, seriously-minded woman. She devoted herself, heart and soul, to the training of her boy, and spent many a pleasant hour in that little unsteady cabin, in endeavouring to instil into his infant mind the blessed truths of Christianity, and in making the name of Jesus familiar to his ear. As Fred grew older his mother encouraged him to hold occasional intercourse with the sailors, for her husband’s example taught her the value of a bold, manly spirit, and she knew that it was impossible for her to instil that into him, but she was careful to guard him from the evil that he might chance to learn from the men, by committing him to the tender care of Buzzby. To do the men justice, however, this was almost unnecessary, for they felt that a mother’s watchful eye was on the child, and no unguarded word fell from their lips while he was romping about the forecastle.
When it was time for Fred to go to school, Mrs Ellice gave up her roving life and settled in her native town of Grayton, where she resided with her widowed sister, Amelia Bright, and her niece Isobel. Here Fred received the rudiments of an excellent education at a private academy. At the age of twelve, however, Master Fred became restive, and, during one of his father’s periodical visits home, begged to be taken to sea. Captain Ellice agreed; Mrs Ellice insisted on accompanying them, and in a few weeks they were once again on their old home, the ocean, and Fred was enjoying his native air in company with his friend Buzzby, who stuck to the old ship like one of her own stout timbers.
But this was destined to be a disastrous voyage. One evening, after crossing the line, they descried a suspicious-looking schooner to windward, bearing down upon them under a cloud of canvas.
“What do you think of her, Buzzby?” enquired Captain Ellice, handing his glass to the seaman.
Buzzby gazed in silence and with compressed lips for some time; then he returned the glass, at the same time muttering the word: “Pirate.”
“I thought so,” said the captain in a deep, unsteady voice. “There is but one course for us, Buzzby,” he continued, glancing towards his wife, who, all unconscious of their danger, sat near the taffrail employed with her needle; “these fellows show no mercy, because they expect none either from God or man. We must fight to the last. Go, prepare the men and get out the arms. I’ll tell my wife.”
Buzzby went forward, but the captain’s heart failed him, and he took two or three rapid, hesitating turns on the quarter-deck ere he could make up his mind to speak.
“Alice,” he said at length abruptly, “yonder vessel is a pirate.”
Mrs Ellice looked up in surprise, and her face grew pale as her eye met the troubled gaze of her husband.
“Are you quite sure, Frederick?”