CHAPTER X.
OLD JARVIS AND HIS DOG NEPTUNE.
“Ma’am, old Jarvis is in the kitchen. He has brought some fish, and wants to see you,” said Flora’s maid one morning, as her mistress had just finished washing and dressing the baby.
“The poor old man! I thought he was dead,” said Flora. “I have not seen him for such a long time!” and, with baby in her arms, she followed the girl into the kitchen.
David Jarvis was a fisherman, well known upon that coast,—an active, energetic son of the sea, though somewhat time-worn and weather-beaten. The person of the old man had been familiar to Flora since she was a little child; and many a stolen trip had she taken with her brothers in his cockleshell of a boat, which, tough as its master, had stood the wear and tear of the winds and waves for many years.
Since she came to reside at ——, she had often watched that little boat dancing over the waves, carried onward by a stiff breeze,—now hiding in the green valleys of the sea, now mounting aloft, like a feather floating on the ridge of some toppling surge. The old man seemed to bear a charmed life; for at all seasons, and in almost all weather, the little wiry seaman, with his short pipe in his mouth, and his noble Newfoundland dog, Neptune, in the bow of his boat, might be seen coasting along the shore, following his adventurous calling.
That large, deep-chested, powerful dog, was the admiration of all the children in the town. It was considered a privilege by the young fry to pat Neptune’s buff head, and call him the “dear, good, old dog!” and well did the fine animal deserve the title.
The good dog had, at different times, saved nine seamen from a watery grave, as the collar he wore round his neck recording the fact could testify.
Next to his two fine sons, Nep was the delight of the old man’s heart. They were never seen apart. In storm or shine, Nep accompanied his master in the boat; or, if fishing on the beach, he sat up on his haunches, with a calm, sagacious air, watching the accumulating pile of fish entrusted to his care. Sociable, affable, and gentle, he submitted good-humouredly to the caresses of all the youngsters who passed that way; but if any one dared to lay a finger upon the fish, the lion-like nature of the animal was roused into instant action. His mild eye became red and fiery, and his deep voice bade defiance to the incautious intruder on his master’s rights, to protect which Nep was ready to lay down his valuable life.
Jarvis and his dog enjoyed a great degree of popularity in an humble way; and were decidedly among the lions of the place. Gentlemen had offered large sums for the buff Newfoundland dog, which Jarvis had rejected without a second thought; declaring, that he would as soon sell a child for money, as his faithful Nep.
During the past year the old seaman had been severely tried. Misfortune had followed upon misfortune; until the hardy veteran looked like the spectre of his former self. His only daughter, a pretty girl of eighteen, was engaged to marry the ostler at the Crown Inn, a fine-looking young man, who had lately come from London. He saw Nancy Jarvis, became enamoured of the fisherman’s daughter, told his tale of love, and was accepted. The old man was rather averse to the match; for, in his eyes, no man was worthy of his Nancy, who was not a genuine son of the sea. Robert Green at last succeeded in overcoming his nautical prejudices; and a day was fixed for the wedding. Nancy’s rosy, artless face was all smiles and sunshine, as night after night she sauntered past Flora’s windows, leaning upon the arm of her betrothed. Only two days previous to the one appointed for the wedding, the father learned from old captain P——, whose vessel had just returned from London, that Robert Green had a wife and two children in the great city; that the poor young woman, hearing that his vessel was from the Port of ——, had come on board, to make some inquiries respecting her faithless husband; and that she and her little ones were now on their way to join him.