CHAPTER II.
The cheerfulness which had animated the countenance of the Captain, deserted him when he quitted the presence of Mr. Talton; a deep dejection succeeded, and the half-stifled sigh evinced the recollection of events painful to remembrance. Frederick vainly endeavoured to divert his attention, but his voice had lost its wonted influence; nor, when returned on board, was the interesting St. Ledger more successful in dispelling the saddened cloud from his brow. The Captain regarded him for some time in mournful silence, then hastily bade him good night, and retired to his cabin, whence he was summoned in the morning, on the arrival of Mr. Talton. His pallid countenance sufficiently showed how ill he had passed the night, nor could his efforts to assume a cheerful ease succeed.
Mr. Talton beheld the alteration with concern, and took the occasion of his absence to ask Frederick the reason of it.
"Alas, Sir," replied Frederick, "I cannot resolve your question; my uncle is frequently—nay generally dejected; but with the cause I am unacquainted."
"I know," said Mr. Talton, "that early in life he experienced unhappiness from his family; yet, surely after so many years have elapsed—Yet it may: the enmity of his brother was too deeply rooted to yield to time—And shall I own my surprise at finding the son of that brother on board the Argo? Excuse my curiosity, young gentleman, but are you here with or without the knowledge and approbation of your father?"
Frederick sighed. "My father, sir, knows and approves of my being here."
"—Are you," said Mr. Talton, after a moment's pause, "acquainted with the cause of their quarrel!"
"I am not, sir," answered Frederick. "From my earliest remembrance the unhappy disagreement between my uncle and father has existed: and to such excess did my father carry his inveteracy, he would not permit even the name of his brother to be mentioned in his presence: and, except by name, I scarcely knew such a person existed. My early propensity for the sea, which my father in vain strove to eradicate, and the haughty ungenerous disposition of my elder brother, brought me continual anger and chastisement, till I was nearly fourteen; when I accompanied my father to a race near Salisbury; and, where my uncle, without knowing who I was, saved my life, by extricating me from an unruly horse, which my curiosity to see the course had tempted me to mount. He afterwards accompanied me to my father, who was beginning coolly to thank him, when he recalled to mind, his brother in my preserver, and rage, in an instant, took possession of every faculty. He struck me down, and severely should I have suffered for the involuntary offence, if my uncle had not interposed—desiring to speak with him in private. After a conference of about half an hour, they returned; my father's brow still exhibited a formidable frown; and, as he entered, I heard him say, 'If you take him—you take him entirely: nor, after he is once under your guidance, shall I think myself necessitated to provide for him in the least respect. I have other children, more deserving my care esteem: you have none—and, if you like, may adopt him; your dispositions are exactly similar!'
"My uncle smiled at the latter part of his speech, and asked if I would go to sea with him? I readily acceded to the offer, and that very evening bade adieu to a parent, whose harshness rendered him an object of dread, and repressed every sentiment of filial affection. My uncle wrote twice to my father; the first letter he answered, saying, he was glad I behaved to his satisfaction; and since that time, all intercourse has again ceased. My uncle, at his own expense, equipped me for the sea, and has ever supplied my wants with unbounded generosity."