Charlie put out his arms towards the honest captain, who took the little fellow warmly to his heart.
Louise held on to Daph’s apron with one hand, and the other she put out timidly towards her new friend.
That small, soft, gentle hand was placed in the hard, dark palm of the captain, quietly as a flower might fall on a wayside path. Captain Jones bent tenderly down to the fair, slender child, and kissed her smooth forehead. She loosened her hold of Daph, and nestled at his side. Again those stranger-tears filled the captain’s eyes, but he did not look the worse for them, or for the kindly smile that beamed from his frank, sun-burnt face.
An odd looking party sat round the breakfast-table, in the cabin, that morning. Captain Jones was at the head, with Charlie on his knee; opposite him was perched the little Louise, while the weather-browned faces of the mates appeared at the sides.
Daph had claimed the privilege of milking “Passenger,” the cow—which Captain Jones had taken with him on many voyages, and on which he had lavished much of the surplus affection of his bachelor-heart.
“Passenger,” would have found out that she had powerful rivals, if she could have seen Charlie, enjoying his cup of fresh milk on the captain’s knee, and Louise looking at him with mild trustful glances, that went right to his heart.
Daph saw all this, if “Passenger” did not, and with her white teeth in full sight she moved round the table, in the position of waiter, which she had assumed to keep her darlings in view, and to have a care that their new friends, in their abundant kindness, did not feed them too freely with sailor’s fare.
That was a happy day to the children—that first day on board the “Martha Jane,”—and the captain prophesied that Charlie would “stand the sea like an old salt,” and Louise would be as much at home on it as the “Martha Jane” herself.
There had been a fresh breeze all day, but towards evening the wind grew stronger, and Daph would have found it hard to carry even a trifle on that head of hers, which had so steadily borne many a heavy burden. She began also to experience certain strange internal sensations, for which she could not account; but the faithful creature bore up without a complaint, though she staggered to and fro in a way which made the rough sailors laugh merrily at her expense.
Poor Daph! Such sufferings as hers could not long be kept secret. Through the live-long night she lay in the anguish of sea-sickness, which can only be appreciated by those who have experienced its miseries. In her ignorance, she supposed herself to have been seized by some fearful malady, which must soon take her life.